Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I mean, Tikki, it’s not like I don’t love Adrien anymore!”

Tikki, who had not said anything to provoke this outburst, nodded sagely. Marinette got like this every now and then. As a being of more than a thousand years of age, Tikki possessed a good sense of when a person simply needed to vent their frustrations, and she was more than willing to do what she could to ease the burden that the Miraculous placed on Marinette.

The girl took this as an invitation to continue. She kicked her legs off the edge of the bed where she sat, sighed, and said, “He’s just as beautiful and kind and selfless, and I still want to be there for him when he’s hurting. I mean, he’s Adrien, how could I not be in love with him?”

Tikki floated over from the plant she had been inspecting and hovered in the air in front of Marinette. After making sure she had her attention, Tikki gave the girl her best reassuring look.

“It’s just…” she started, before trailing off and chewing her lip, obviously at a loss for words. “Chat,” she finally said, fixing Tikki with a flat look.

“Is it stupid that I really like it when he compliments me?” Marinette mumbled. “Don’t answer that, I don’t wanna know,” she said before Tikki could open her mouth to respond. She settled for moving to Marinette’s shoulder instead.

“I mean, yeah, I push him off when he gets all flirty. He’s a huge goof, it’s just how the guy is. I’m never going to be swooning over Chat Noir. But sometimes he gets all… honest. And I think he means it, like, the way he looked at me when he thought I’d been- I just can’t forget about him! He’s so… good. He really cares. About me, and about Paris.”

Marinette swallowed, falling silent after her monologue. It soon became apparent that she had nothing more to say. Tikki decided that it was finally time to give some words of encouragement.

“It’s okay to feel like this, Marinette,” she said, in a motherly tone. “The heart wants what the heart wants, and besides, Chat Noir isn’t a bad option. You said it yourself, he really does care. And,” she said, adopting a teasing lilt, “he’s pretty good looking too, isn’t he?” Marinette scrunched up her eyebrows and stuck her tongue out at Tikki.

“He is and I hate it,” she quickly said, still scowling.

“I’m just teasing,” Tikki said with a comforting pat on her charge’s cheek. “It’ll be alright, Marinette. I just know things will work themselves out.”

It wasn’t the first time a Ladybug and a Chat Noir the gotten tangled up in such a way, after all. None of the kwami knew if it was the magic of the stones that drew their bearers lives together, or if it was simply the natures of those chosen to take on the mantle of the two heroes. It had simply been accepted as fact for a long time now.

Marinette drew her legs up from the edge of the mattress, careful not to knock her knees against the metal trim of her bed. With a look of determination, she spoke while she started climbing down the steps of her loft.

“You’re right, Tikki, I can do this. I’m not going to let it be a problem.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Marinette smiled at her kwami, feeling intensely fond of her friend at the moment.

“God, what would I do without you, Tikki? You’re the best,” she said, the tension in her shoulders from moments before suddenly alleviated. “Oh! That reminds me, I need to water your plants,” she said, nodding to the feathery fennel plant in the corner and a small potted geranium on her desk. She grabbed a small watering can from under her desk and bustled to the door. Suddenly filled with energy, she resolved to go help her maman with dinner as soon as she was done watering the plants. As she closed the door behind her, Marinette spoke softly to herself, almost too quiet for Tikki to hear.

“Not going to be a problem.”

This was absolutely a problem.

Ladybug had met up with Chat Noir twenty minutes ago for patrol. It was a warm evening, the sun painting the horizon purple despite having slipped out of view soon after their patrol had begun. She was ready for a quick, easy patrol. Something well within her comfort zone.

Instead, Chat Noir had shown up with his stupid handsome smile and stupid genuine joy at simply seeing ‘his Lady.’ A nickname that was absolutely not endearing, not even in the slightest. No, she thought to herself. Get it together before he notices you’re all-

“You seem distracted, my Lady.”

Ladybug snapped her gaze over to her partner, who was leaning on his staff. Fuck. She hadn’t even noticed the past block. Some patrol this was.

“Apologies, chaton,” she said easily. “Just got caught up in my thoughts.”

“Something on your mind? This cat’s a good listener,” Chat Noir replied. He stowed his staff on his back and slunk over to her, trying to look inviting.

“Not a chance, Chat,” Ladybug said with a smirk. She reached out and pushed his bell before turning away, then realized how dismissive she had sounded.

“Not about this, I mean. This thing I’m thinking about. Was thinking about,” she hastily corrected. And then, to her absolute horror, Ladybug blushed. Walking quickly over the rooftop of the apartment building they had stopped on, she quickly cast her yoyo out and swung to the adjacent building. Seconds later, she heard Chat Noir land behind her with a soft thump. He started talking before he had fully caught up to her.

“Aw, my Lady, give this poor kitty a chance! I have a great ear for troubles,” he said, wiggling the leather ears that made up one of the more mystifying parts of his suit. Chat quickly walked past her, twirling his staff. Planted the magical weapon on the blacktop and leaned forward, using it to support his weight. Leaned towards Ladybug and winked for effect. There was no way Chat didn’t know what he was doing. Hip cocked slightly to the side, arms tensed slightly to show off the muscles that came with living a double life as a superhero.

The dim light played off his back wonderfully, emphasizing his sharp shoulder blades. No one should look that good in leather.

“It’s something personal, Chat,” she said evasively.

“Ah, say no more. Identities are secret, I know how it is.”

Well. She hadn’t lied, per se.

“Shall we continue?” Chat asked. Ladybug’s gaze lingered- just for a second- as he flowed into animated movement. She ignored his offered hand, but skimmed her fingers over his arm as she stepped past him to take her position in the lead. Because casual touching like that was normal between friends. It didn’t mean anything.

All thoughts left her mind as she stepped up on the edge of the building. The city moved, stories below her, but Ladybug felt no fear. A black boot on the ledge marked Chat Noir’s arrival at her side. With no more thought than it took to breathe, Ladybug pushed off the ledge, throwing her yoyo as she fell. The string pulled taut and she was flying up again, the air rushing past her. She alighted on the roof of an office building, Chat behind her as he always was. But as he landed, he looked to her in alarm.

“Did you hear that?” He said, brow furrowed in worry.

“Hear what?”

Her partner’s ears twitched, and this time she did hear something. A faint voice shouting out in panic: “Ladybug!”

Chat Noir was off like a flash, launching himself in what she assumed to be the direction of the noise. She followed suit, catching her partner extending his staff and sliding down into a small alley that split off from the more busy street. Not wasting a second, she threw her yoyo to a fire escape and swung down into the valley to find-

Oh.

A short woman wearing nondescript clothes in shades of black and gray was holding a knife to the neck of an older woman and holding a high quality designer handbag. Ladybug assumed it belonged to the one with the knife to her neck. This woman looked to be in her late forties, and carried herself with dignity, glaring at her attacker seemingly without fear. The would-be thief was currently swearing at her victim.

“Really? Fuck! You had to call in the fucking superheroes, didn’t you? You stupid little-”

Chat Noir was standing a few yards away, staff held warily. Clearly, the mugger had noticed his presence, but still seemed more interested in taking out her frustrations on her hostage than actually confronting him.

Ladybug coughed loudly.

“Oh, fuck, there’s two of you now,” the mugger said acidly. Her grip on the knife shifted as she turned to face the superheroes properly. She glared at Ladybug. Ladybug stared back, unimpressed.

Abruptly, the mugger turned to her victim. “Leave the purse. Get out of here,” she barked. The older woman did no such thing, and instead snatched her purse out of the thief’s grasp, who made a strangled noise of disbelief and nearly moved to attack her before she remembered the presence of two masked heroes. Instead, she turned to face them once more as her victim, reunited with her purse, walked swiftly away.

“Fucking great,” she said. “Let me guess. You’re here to arrest me?” The mugger’s voice was sarcastic and disdainful. Ladybug found herself a little miffed that this brazen woman wasn’t more worried to be facing down the heroes of Paris.

“To be fair,” Chat said diplomatically, “you were holding a knife to that woman’s neck.”

“Oh, whatever, I only wanted her fucking purse. I wasn’t going to kill her, that would be ridiculous.”

“Why don’t you tell that to the police- ‘The knife was a joke, I just wanted to steal from her!’” Chat fired back.

“Oh, it’s always the cops with you types, isn’t it?”

Ladybug growled. This was going nowhere. Spinning her yoyo, she slowly walked down the narrow alley towards the girl, who finally stopped arguing with Chat and shifted the knife from her right hand to her left, holding it out warily before her.

It would be a little difficult to subdue her without causing any serious injury, but it wasn’t as if this was the first human criminal they’d come across. Ladybug walked, deliberately slow. The red yoyo spun in a circle, and the seconds seemed to tick by sluggishly, until without warning, Ladybug snapped the yoyo towards the girl.

The mugger barely moved her arm out of the way in time. The yoyo missed, shooting past her instead of wrapping around her wrist. She pulled it back and the girl was on her, lunging with the point of the knife- a switchblade, she identified- forward and her entire weight behind it.

It was Ladybug’s turn to throw herself to the side, the desperate stab missing as she twisted her abdomen out of the way. Her knee shot up and she landed a good hit on her attacker’s side, who grunted in pain, but didn’t fall. She slashed with the knife and Ladybug had to step back again, the blade passing her by inches. The girl was fast. But she was faster. When the mugger swung the knife again, Ladybug wrapped her yoyo around the girl’s ankle and gave a vicious tug, pulling her from her feet. She landed hard and before she could think to fight back, Ladybug was on her. She grabbed the girl’s wrist, forcing her to drop the knife as she slammed her arm onto the ground. Weapon disarmed, she finally took a second to breathe.

“Hey, Chat, can you call the police?” Ladybug said.

At this, the girl beneath her twisted, and there was a flash of silver, and-

Of course there was another knife.

Ladybug somehow managed to get her hand between the knife and her face, where the clumsy slash had been aimed. The steel bit into the palm of her hand and she staggered back instinctively, trying to put some distance between herself and the blade. The pain hadn’t set in but she could feel something trickling down her fingertips. The girl had gotten to her feet and was glaring at Ladybug triumphantly as she switched hands again. She set her feet like a fencer, ready to lunge out again--

and was slammed in the solar plexus by Chat Noir’s staff, which he had extended with the same force he used to launch himself onto buildings. The girl was knocked off her feet and fell on her back, where she lay unmoving.

“My Lady! Are you alright? You’re bleeding, you need to get to-”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Ladybug demanded.

“My- what?” Chat Noir stopped abruptly.

“That was a civilian,” she hissed. “You can’t just go hitting them with metal staves!”

Chat took a step back, his tail lashing defensively. “She stabbed you!” he said angrily. “With a knife!”

“That doesn’t matter! We’re supposed to be heroes, we can’t be hurting people,” Ladybug retorted. Wait. Speaking of civilians…

“Shit! The girl, is she okay?” Ladybug said frantically. She twisted around, Chat craned his neck to look behind her.

The girl was gone.

“At least we know she was alright,” Chat said wryly.

“Chat! You seriously could have-”

“I know. You’re right,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m sorry.” Instead of the way he usually addressed her, all dramatic gestures and ridiculous faces, he was looking down, away from her. That was what managed to permeate her frustration and set worry bubbling in her stomach. She took a step towards him.

“Chat?”

He turned his head down even more, almost staring at his boots. “I know I shouldn’t have-” he finally said, his voice wavering. “I just. I got so scared,” he said, his voice cracking on the final word, and Ladybug realized why he wouldn’t look at her.

Chat Noir was crying, and Ladybug felt it tug at her heartstrings like the moon pulls the tides. Her partner was crying.

She couldn’t have that.

She took another step towards her partner and she was inches away. Pressing her forehead against his, she took his hand in her clean one, lacing their fingers together.

“Hey.” Ladybug spoke softly, almost afraid to startle her partner, who had closed his eyes. When he didn’t respond, she reached for his other hand, which was laying limp at his side. Her fingers were slick with blood and her palm stung horribly as she pressed it against his, but she could deal with that later. She fit her fingers between his and sighed. Chat exhaled shakily, and finally opened his eyes.

“I’m here,” she offered. Chat Noir looked away again.

Ladybug waited a minute. A minute more. The last vestiges of light faded from the sky. Finally, Chat spoke, looking at her as he did.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, my lady,” he said. His eyes still glistened but he was looking at her like she had hung the stars in the sky. He carefully disentangled his fingers from hers, and brought her bloody knuckles to his lips, kissing her hand delicately.

(It wasn’t too weird that she found the image extremely cute, Marinette would tell herself later.)

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to, kitty,” she said simply. Not giving him any chance to mope, she wrapped her arms around him in a firm hug. He stiffened in surprise before relaxing, tentatively bringing his arms up around her. Ladybug only pulled him closer, her arms wrapping around his neck. This proved to be all the encouragement he needed, and Chat pulled her into a tight hug. She allowed herself to close her eyes for a moment. Her hand traced its way up his back and she began to absentmindedly play with her partner’s hair.

The realization of what she was doing hit her all at once, and she pulled back, disentangling her fingers from Chat’s hair. The moment was broken, and her hand throbbed, and- shit, she had gotten blood on her partner’s hair. “Sorry!” she said quickly, resenting the way her voice squeaked. Chat Noir opened his eyes and gave her a quizzical look.

“I sort of got you a little… bloody,” she explained. Chat Noir started.

“Your hand!” he said, worried once more.

“Yeah,” Ladybug agreed, grimacing. “It looks like it might need stitches.”

Ladybug had given herself stitches once before, in the aftermath of an incredibly taxing akuma fight. They were horribly messy and barely got the job done, and she was not eager to repeat the experience. It was with this in mind that she spoke up.

“Actually…” She started. Chat looked to her in askance, waiting for her to continue. She swallowed, ignoring her discomfort at asking for help.

“How’re you with a needle and thread?”

Chat gulped, the understanding of her implication plain on his pained face. Still, he nodded.

“I’ve done it before. I can help you, if you want. But where…?” He trailed off, at a loss for a location where they could safely and privately treat a wound.

Ladybug thought quickly. “Marinette, she might be able to give us her room. She’s helped us before, remember?”

“Of course,” Chat Noir said. “You should have seen her with the Evillustrator, my Lady.”

Ladybug ignored the small thrill of pride that sent through her and made a show of getting out her yoyo. “I’ll send her a message. Can you go buy medical supplies? I’ll pay you back, of course.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get everything we need. Just wait here, I’ll be back soon.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes at her partner’s doting. “I’ll be fine, Chat. And I am going to pay you back.”

“That's what you think, buginette.” Without waiting for a reply, Chat sprung off into the darkness, taking his quest every bit as seriously as she’d expected.

Ladybug finally allowed herself to relax, sitting on the ground with her back to the cool stone wall of the alleyway.

Despite how wrong this had gone, she felt… good. There was a burning pain in the palm of her right hand, of course, but she had helped her partner when he needed it. When before she might have brushed off his worry.

And if she still needed to explain to Chat that she’d need him to carry her home, that was a problem for later.

Chapter Text

Ladybug was in damage control mode. It was what she had come to call the mindset that allowed her to compartmentalize all the havoc of akuma attacks and focus on subduing Hawkmoth’s latest champion.

This time, however, her mind froze as she tried to figure out some way out of her latest situation.

The situation (as she deemed it) was Chat Noir, carrying her carefully towards her home, which he thought was just the home of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, helpful civilian and occasional friend of Ladybug.

Ladybug wasn’t stupid, she’d had no illusions of trying to play the lone wolf and yoyo home using only one hand. That kind of foolishness was more her partner’s style, something that worried her to no end. With her usual means of transportation out, asking Chat to carry her was just common sense, really.

What she hadn’t thought about in her urgency to get out of the alley was just how Chat Noir was planning on carrying her to her room above the bakery. After making sure none of the medical supplies he had fetched (each double bagged for safety) were in danger of spilling, he planted his staff in the ground and climbed up in that ridiculous pose, with one knee out to provide a seat for her. Ladybug put her arm around his waist, and stood on the tips of her toes before hopping up on his knee. Just like they always did.

Three stories passed in seconds and they jumped off onto the roof, but not before Ladybug made the unfortunate realization of how intimate some of their superhero maneuvers felt when you were kind of maybe a little attracted to your partner. She shook the thought off and walked briskly towards the other end of the building. Chat made to put down his staff, but she shook her head.

“It’s a short jump,” she said, nodding to the next building over. If he had any protests, Ladybug didn’t hear them as she took a step back, then launched herself off the building. She landed smoothly, her hand only giving a small pulse of pain with the impact.

When she turned around to look for her partner, she found him still on the other rooftop, staring obviously at her..

“You coming?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.

Chat collected himself. “Simply in awe of your grace under pressure, my Lady.” A quick jump and he was with her.

The duo made their way down the city blocks like this, jumping from building to building when possible and having Chat vault them both to a more distant structure when they needed to cross a street or bridge a larger gap. Ladybug said nothing, busy with the existence of butterflies in her stomach. Chat Noir was uncharacteristically silent for nearly the entire trip to 12 Gotlib Street. When they were almost there, however, he finally spoke up.

“You’ve been quiet, bugaboo.”

“I’m trying to bear my wound stoically,” Ladybug said. “Is it working?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Chat replied, putting on a tone of complete sincerity. “You’re the picture of stoicism.”

Ladybug laughed, the butterflies in her stomach melting, and God, it was embarrassing how much better their banter made her feel. On impulse, she reached out and batted her partner’s bell playfully. Chat grinned at her, catlike and triumphant that he had gotten her to pay attention to him.

“Come on, kitty,” she said. “Marinette’s house- the bakery- is right across the street.” That finally got him to attention.

One pole vault later and they were on her balcony, the plants and chair arranged just as Ladybug had left them. She waited a second before moving to open the trap door; she didn’t want to appear overly familiar with the place. Going to her house in the first place was far from ideal, but there was no one else to treat her wound who wouldn’t ask questions, and it really needed tending to.

After a single beat of hesitation, Ladybug pulled open the trap door and dropped down into her room. She landed on her bed, quickly moving so as to not get her boots on the bedsheets more than she had to. Chat landed with a thump behind her.

They had gotten home, fine. Her parents should be busy in the bakery for some time, and have no reason to check their daughter’s room.

Now it was time for the hard part.

Chapter Text

Iodine. Sutures. Special needles. Antibacterial ointment, painkillers, medical tape, cotton pads, a washcloth, and an actual pre-prepared butterfly bandage. Several different kinds of scissors, some with hooked tips or in smaller sizes. Chat Noir had definitely gone overboard on the medical supplies, but Ladybug couldn’t help but feel touched. The boy was hovering over her shoulder as she looked at the supplies spread out on her desk.

“Is it ok? I tried to get--well, I kind of got everything I thought of.”

Just because she was touched didn’t mean she wasn’t going to give him a hard time for spending so much money on her, though.

“It’s more than okay, Chaton. You’d better have gotten a receipt so I can pay you back.”

“Oh, how clawful! I must have forgot.”

She turned to her partner. He refused to meet her gaze.

“You’re the worst, Chat! I told you I was going to pay you back.”

“My Lady, there is nothing I can think of that I’d rather spend my money on than aiding you,” he said, and of course now he could look at her, his eyes shining with adoration. Ladybug’s heart did a flip and she quickly decided it was time to get to treating this wound.

“So,” Ladybug started. She uncurled her left hand for the first time since entering, wincing as the dried blood tugged at her skin. That was one ugly wound. Fresh blood welled up from the wound, and she bit back a curse as a drop spilled onto her desk. Chat Noir snatched the washcloth from the array of items and doubled it up before clasping her hand between his, effectively applying pressure to the wound.

“Not one word about hand holding, cat.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my lady.”

If that wasn’t the lie of the century, Ladybug would eat her yoyo. She didn’t contest it, though.

For quiet minute, she allowed herself to sit and just breathe, feeling her partner do the same beside her.

She couldn’t actually rest until this had been dealt with, though, so Ladybug reluctantly peeled her hand from Chat’s and the bloody washcloth from her hand.

“Tikki said that I can cut the glove off and it’ll be fine next time I transform.”

“Ah, the conveniences of kwami magic.”

Chat pulled out a small pair of surgical scissors and took her hand in his. He cut down from the gash in the fabric on her palm to her wrist, then around in a circle. Carefully, he peeled the fabric off of her hand. It now looked like she was missing a glove, with her suit ending before hand began.

“You know, I think this whole purrocess would go better at the sink,” her insufferable partner said with the kind of smirk reserved for terrible puns. “We shouldn’t repay Miss Marinette’s pawspitality by making a mess.”

“Okay,” Ladybug started, letting herself be lead over to the sink. Chat still cradled her hand in his but she would not be distracted. “That wasn’t even that good, but you’re right.”

“You liked it,” he singsonged.

“I tolerated it.”

They were at the sink. She turned on the faucet, and Chat Noir dragged over the rolling chair on which were the medical supplies. Ladybug tried to steel herself and examine the wound, but couldn’t bring herself to. Dealing with the pain during a fight, sure, but up close it just looked… wrong. She shuddered and Chat came up beside her, once again taking her hand gently.

“Here, I can tell you how it looks.”

Ladybug nodded and looked away, allowing her partner to take her hand and peer at it more closely. At his request, she opened and closed her fingers, relieved to note that it didn’t cause her too much pain. Finally, after an agonizing 90 seconds of staring at her hand, Chat gave his verdict.

“Well, she got you good.”

“Wow. Are you sure?” Ladybug said in the flattest tone she could muster.

“Yeah. It’s gonna need a lot of stitches, ‘cause the hand bends a lot, too. Sorry bugaboo, this isn’t gonna be pretty.”

“This situation’s been nothing but ugly ever since she pulled out that second knife. Are you ready? We should get this over with.”

Chat sprung to motion. He uncapped the iodine and poured it over her palm. The caramel colored liquid was cool but offered no sensation other than that as it trickled down the drain. She flipped her hand over and washed it off with warm water, trying to avoid any actual contact with the wound.

“Okay, now we need to thread the needle,” Chat said, seemingly to himself. He took out a sharply hooked needle and attempted to poke the black thread through the head.

Miss. Miss. Miss. Hit the side of the needle, try again. Miss.

Ladybug had sympathy-- she’d once been a novice seamstress- but time was slightly of the essence.

“Let me, chaton,” she said, reaching with her good hand. Making sure to keep her left hand still over the sink, Ladybug placed the sharp end of the needle between her teeth and carefully speared the black suture thread through. Grabbing it by the head, she passed the needle and thread to Chat Noir, who looked dumbfounded.

“I’ll need you to tie it, can’t really do that with one hand,” she said.

“Are you just perfect at everything?” her partner demanded, tying it off with a simple box knot.

Oh, if only you knew, kitty.

“Not everything,” she said instead, because normal people aren’t obsessed with every one of their flaws.

It wasn’t a big deal.

Chat brought the finished needle and thread up to the mirror. “Looks good. Let’s get you over to the operating table,” he said, pushing the chair over to her desk. She placed her hand palm up on the table with the plastic bag under it. Chat sat on the table right next to where she sat, and leaned over her hand.

“Hrm,” he said, and she felt the strange texture of his glove grip at her skin as he poked and prodded her. “Well… here goes nothing.”

Ladybug flinched as the needle pierced her skin, and flinched again as it left the other side of the wound. Chat froze.

“I’m fine, keep going,” she said, and was damn proud to note that her voice didn’t shake one bit. Still, she laid her other hand on his knee. Just for comfort.

Two more pricks, the disturbing sensation of something tugging at her skin, and another stitch in. Chat Noir spoke to her softly.

“You doing alright, Ladybug?” he murmured, and the needle dipped down again. She waited until the stitch had been tugged tight before responding.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re handling this amazingly, .” She made a soft noise of agreement, and squeezed his knee. Another stitch done. He worked faster, having found his pace, and the black thread crisscrossed its way over her palm. As he worked, he talked, and Ladybug allowed herself to get lost in the meandering thread of his one sided conversation.

Before she knew it, he was (albeit with some difficulty) tying off the final knot, and they were done.

Chapter Text

She flexed her fingers. The stitches held.

Chat sighed in relief, and put down the needle before taking a step back.

“Whew. Looks like they’re good. We should cover it now- 24 hours, at least.”

With the care of someone familiar with the act, he covered the stitches with a gauze pad and medical tape.

“Thanks,” Ladybug found herself saying.

“You can always count on me, Ladybug,” Chat said, trying to catch her eye.

Oh. He was being all sincere again.

Well… there was only one thing to do about that.

“I know, Chat. That’s why I’m thanking you.”

His ears perked up as she took a step towards him. Another step and he froze, looking at her like a deer in the headlights. Without speaking, Ladybug wrapped her partner in a tight hug. After an agonizing second, Chat Noir finally relaxed, his arms coming up questioningly behind her. Her chin fit over his shoulder like a dream, her fingers curled at his back, chest pressed up against his. Ladybug took a deep breath, trying to memorize the moment. Finally she let her partner go, leaning back, and tried to put all of her appreciation, all of her fondness, all of her love into her words.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re the best part of this whole crazy superhero life, you know that? Not just that you have my back in a fight, but that you care enough to go out and get me a ridiculous pile of medical supplies. I just need you to know… I’m so lucky to have you, Chat.”

Chat Noir stared at her for a second, dumbfounded. A few more seconds of silence were then interrupted by a loud sniffle, followed by several more. As Chat began to rub at his eyes, Ladybug realized that her partner was crying.

“Kitty? What is it?” she asked, concerned. This was not the reaction she’d been hoping for by baring her feelings, not even close!

Chat let out a teary laugh, his voice wobbling as he tried to speak.

“It’s just--I just realized how long it’s been since someone’s hugged me like that, and said such nice things, and all of a sudden I started crying. I was so happy, Ladybug, and now I’m…” He trailed off, gesturing to his puffy red eyes and dripping nose. Ladybug tried not to react, but he did look quite a far cry from his normally well put-together self. His words were more troubling still. Marinette rarely went a day without a hug from one or both of her parents. What was her partner’s life like that a close hug and genuine praise had apparently been rare enough to cause him to break down crying?

“A mess,” he finished bitterly. Ladybug felt her heart clench, and she tried to think of something to say. Chat Noir filled the silence instead.

“I’m sorry I’m like this,” he said quietly, and if Ladybug’s heart had been hurting a minute ago then it was breaking now. He wasn’t meeting her gaze anymore, looking down at his boots. That the universe could allow something like this, that someone like her selfless, wonderful Chat could be so miserable… it was wrong. She was going to fix it.

Ladybug wasted no time, taking Chat Noir gently but firmly by the arm and walking him up the steps to Marinette’s bed. As she walked she talked, her words flowing comfortably. She might stumble over phrases and mangle her sentences sometimes, but this was her partner, and he needed her. She would be there for him.

“First of all, minou, you’re not a mess. You’re just crying, it’s okay to cry. I cried yesterday because I forgot to do my trig homework before I went to bed and ended up missing the assignment.” Ladybug planted her hands on Chat’s shoulders, pushing him into a sitting position onto the bed, where she quickly joined him. She would have liked to wrap the boy in a blanket or two (a longtime Dupain-Cheng cure for the blues), but it would probably seem a little presumptuous of her to just take the blankets from the bed of a civilian. Chat blinked, trying to process this information.

“Really?” he asked, and there was a little bit of that Chat Noir curiosity creeping back into his voice like new growth after a frost. This was progress.

“Yes “really,” Chat. Trigonometry is an upsetting subject,” Ladybug said. “That’s not the point, though,” she said quickly, before she could be derailed any further. “The point is that you’re my kitty and you don’t have to be scared to cry in front of me. I would never look down on you for that.”

“Your kitty?”

Ladybug blushed. She hesitated, then leaned out to lay a hand atop of his.

“Yeah. My kitty.”

Chat Noir grinned and leaned into her side, resting his head into her shoulder.

“My Lady.”

Though she would never admit it to Tikki, Ladybug would have been more than content to remain pressed up against her partner for a while longer. Much to her irritation, Chat Noir’s ring let out a quick beep nonetheless, and the number of paw pads left on the face dropped to four. Neither of them made any move to get up.

When the ring beeped again, louder this time, Chat heaved out a sigh and drew himself up.

“I guess that’s my cue, then,” he said. Slowly, as if stalling for time, Chat pushed the trapdoor open, then turned back to her. Every movement of his spelled hesitation to Ladybug, like there was something on the tip of his tongue that he just couldn’t spit out.

“See you around, Ladybug,” he said.

Chat crouched, preparing to jump, and Ladybug made an impulse decision.

“Wait!” She said suddenly. She leapt down the stairs and grabbed a sheet of loose paper. She tore it in half roughly and began to write furiously on one half. Satisfied that the result was legible, she rushed back up the stairs with pen and both pieces of paper in hand. She presented the items to her partner, who was quite confused until her turned one of them over to see what she had written on the other side.

It was a phone number.

Her phone number, to be specific.

“You do yours, now,” Ladybug said.

“My Lady… you don’t need to do this for me,” Chat said, honored. She shook her head.

“You don’t have to be alone, Chat.” She met his eyes and found them watering again, but there was an absolutely enchanting--enchanted, she meant an enchanted smile on his face. He took the pen and paper without further protest and wrote down his own phone number in surprisingly neat script. When his fingers brushed against her own as he returned the half sheet of paper, Ladybug couldn’t ignore the small thrill it sent through her. Chat Noir looked as if he had felt it too, and was gazing intently at her.

His miraculous ruined the moment by beeping even more insistently, bringing them both back to reality. This wasn’t really the place, and definitely not the time.

“Alright, get outta here, alley cat, or you won’t make it home,” she said playfully. “I’ll clean up our mess.”

“Truly you are as kind as you are beautiful, my Lady.” Ladybug simply rolled her eyes as he sprang upwards through the open trap door. “I’ll text you as soon as I’m home!”

Chat Noir must have set a new record for superhero movement speed, because not two minutes later she heard her phone buzzing against her desk. She had just detransformed and was tidying up her room, but she shut off the sink and crossed the room when she heard the text arrive.

One unread message, from a new contact surreptitiously named ‘CN.’ The message had no words, but she thought the point got across nonetheless.

The sight of that little pink heart made her heart beat a little faster, but the realization didn’t bother her as much as it had earlier. As Marinette tapped out a familiar greeting, she allowed herself to think that maybe, just maybe, this really wasn’t going to be a problem.