Chapter Text
Paris, Occupied France
October 1942
The city was dark by order of Berlin.
The lamps along Boulevard Saint-Germain had been extinguished hours before to save electricity and deny British bombers an easy target. Only the moon reflected faintly off the Seine, where German sentries paced the bridges with slung Karabiner rifles and flashlights that cut through the darkness in narrow white beams. A slow, warm rain had set in around eight-o-clock, and their jackboots splashed in the puddles as they trudged along the ragged cobblestone roads.
Far above, near the outskirts of the city, a single figure watched carefully from a rooftop. A young woman with long dark hair, highlighted by the red and black checkered scarf she wore, and a small mask of the same material. Below her, a team of soldiers shouted to one another. They loaded wooden crates, hastily stenciled with a black eagle and the word Heeresmunition, into idling trucks. She observed through field binoculars for a long time, scribbling notes on a tattered piece of paper. Suddenly, she was joined by another shadow.
"You're late," she whispered without looking away.
He swung around the chimney with practiced grace, easing into a crouch beside her. "I was waiting for a dramatic entrance," he said. The black mask covered his eyes, but did nothing to hide his broad grin. "Did you miss me perhaps, my dear bugaboo?"
If the woman was amused by the comment, she didn't show it. She carefully adjusted the focus on her binoculars. "Looks like five vehicles. Three for the ammunition, two armored cars to protect the convoy. They're big ones, from a proper military detachment. Do you think you'll be able to handle them?"
The man chuckled. "My dear Ladybug, the armor on the car is somewhat irrelevant when the bridge beneath it explodes."
"I suppose that's true," Ladybug nodded, speaking in her usual serious tone. She grimaced and finally turned to face him. "I still can't believe you got Libération to actually publish that ridiculous headline after the last operation."
"What, 'A Complete Cat-aclysm?'" he asked, sounding almost offended. "It was inspired."
"It was awful." For the first time, the traces of a smile rose on the corners of Ladybug's lips. "You're impossible."
"And yet for some reason, you can't help but bring me along," the man responded easily. "Is it love, perhaps?"
"No. It's because you're the best demolitions expert we have."
For a moment Chat Noir looked serious. His smile faded away, and the pair looked every bit the disciplined, fearless Resistance fighters that were published in underground papers all across France.
After a moment of silence, Ladybug glanced at her watch. They'll be leaving in about ten minutes. That's our cue."
"So it is."
And with those words, Ladybug and Chat Noir, the most famous members of the French Resistance, faded silently into the night.
The next morning, a train from Le Bourget eased into the Gare de l'Est beneath a cloud of steam and coal smoke. The station clock read 07:18 as steam drifted beneath the great iron-and-glass roof, mingling with cigarette smoke and the smell of coal. Feldgendarmes in polished gorgets barked orders to a column of weary French laborers unloading crates. Nearby, a woman clutched her ration book while her son stared silently at a German sentry eating real white bread- something few Parisians had seen in months.
Above the platforms hung banners in two languages.
NICHT RAUCHEN.
DÉFENSE DE FUMER.
Everything in Paris now existed twice: German first, French second.
Captain Roger Raincomprix of the Vichy police removed his hat as a young German officer stepped off of the train.
The German's boots shone despite the October rain, and his field-gray tunic bore the silver shoulder boards of a Wehrmacht Hauptmann. The ribbon of the Iron Cross rested neatly above his breast pocket, while a leather map case hung from one shoulder. He paused only long enough to adjust his gloves before returning the salute of the waiting guards.
"Hauptmann Agreste," Raincomprix said in careful German. "It is good to have you back in Paris. I hope your father is doing well."
Adrien smiled with practiced politeness and began to walk with the policeman towards the exit. "It is good to be back. I apologize that I had to disappear for a little while, especially when such a vicious attack was carried out on our convoy."
The policeman swallowed visibly. "It is nothing, Herr Hauptmann! Only some deserters and old men from the defeated French army."
"You consider the loss of two 222 Armored Vehicles to be nothing?" Adrien raised an amused eyebrow as the police captain squirmed, but relented. "In any any case, do you have my staff car ready?"
"If course, Herr Hauptmann," the Frenchman said, relieved.
As they left the building, Adrien saw that his staff car was indeed parked outside the train station. It was a black Mercedes that carried no divisional markings, only a small pennant bearing the eagle of the German military administration in France. A young private was smoking in the driver's seat, seemingly oblivious to the civilian traffic that was forced to reroute around him. A corporal left the passenger seat and opened the door for Adrien as he approached
"If I may ask, where are you going at such an early hour?" asked Captain Raincomprix.
"Where else?" Adrien sat down in the car and turned back to the policeman, his eyes sparkling. "To class, of course."
Marinette Dupain gazed across the classroom and out of the foggy window on the far side. High on the second story of the Sorbonne- the University of Paris-, it commanded an extensive view of the front lawn below. As always, a black Mercedes was parked along the street, and two German soldiers leaned against it while they chatted and smoked cigarettes. Today they wore long grey coats to try and protect themselves from the rain. She wondered absently if they might be talking about the raid that she and Chat Noir had carried out the night before.
As always, her mind drifted to her "night job", and her partner. Who could he possibly be? He spoke very good French, but it was clear he had an accent, and he made no attempt to hide the German way he pronounced his vowels. Indeed, the rumors said that he was very high up in the German resistance, and had been involved in an attempt to assassinate Hitler only two years previous. That, combined with the accurate intel he was able to provide, seemed to imply that he held a high position in the occupying government. That gave her a strange set of mixed feelings, even though he was using that position to work against the Germans. She wondered what kinds of things he might have to do in the daytime to continue working at night without suspicion.
"Mademoiselle?"
She was drawn out of her thoughts by a voice. She looked down to see the smiling face of Adrien Agreste, who was sitting below her.
"Mademoiselle, I believe you dropped your pencil?"
He was an extraordinarily handsome young man, with short blonde hair and piercing green eyes. He held the pencil out to her with a large, strong hand. Blushing from embarrassment and a whole different set of mixed feelings, she took the pencil gingerly.
"Th-thank you…"
Adrien Agreste- Hauptmann Adrien Agreste, although it never ceased to be strange to think of him in that way- was an absolute enigma to everyone at the university. He was a young German officer attached to an engineering and logistics company that oversaw the construction of roads and railways across occupied France. He had started attending some classes at the Sorbonne shortly after the occupation, saying that he wanted to learn better French, and take some engineering classes in French to learn the terminology. Despite the general hatred of the students towards the German occupation, the school administration had little choice but to allow him to attend.
To the surprise of the whole class, not only was Agreste not a disruption, he was almost comically courteous. He paid rapt attention, took perfect notes, and didn't hesitate to ask intelligent questions. Perhaps the most famous example of his La Chevalerie Guerrière or warrior's chivalry as some of the students had taken to mocking him behind his back, had happened several months before. His unit had suddenly been transferred to an anti-aircraft battery on the Atlantikwall for several weeks, causing him to miss classes. Upon his return to the Sorbonne, he stood before a flustered Professor Haprèle, bowing and apologizing profusely for the inconvenience his military duties had caused. There has been a change in the winds that day. Nino Lahiffe, the son of an NCO in the disbanded Tirailleurs Sénégalais had offered Agreste the seat next to him, and they chatted daily after that.
So despite the strong political mood at the Sorbonne- Marinette was not, by far, the only Resistance member attending the school- Agreste had managed to avoid any direct conflict with his classmates. Some viewed him as a brainwashed dupe of the occupiers, others as a naive boy who didn't fully understand what he was doing, and still others as "one of the good ones", doing his best in a bad situation. The net result was that he was able to exchange some careful smalltalk with his fellow students, although the atmosphere was still charged whenever he spoke.
"Oh, Hauptmann Agreste?"
"Yes, Mademoiselle?"
Blasting through this carefully-arranged and unspoken truce like a demolition charge, was Chloe Bourgeois, who had an uncanny knack for saying what everyone knew was best left unsaid. Apparently unsatisfied with her already privileged position in the occupation, she took every opportunity to try and gain favor from the young German officer, and she was not particularly subtle with her efforts. Nino looked away awkwardly as she barreled ahead.
"My father- Deputy Prefect Bourgeois, as I'm sure you remember- is holding a reception for some of the officers tonight. Some senior officials from Vichy will be there, even some members from the military administration." She preened her hair vainly as she spoke. "You know, I'm sure it would greatly enhance your career if you were to attend with me."
Adrien smiled politely as he packed books into his leather satchel. "That is very kind of you, Mademoiselle Bourgeois, but I'm afraid that I have a previous engagement, so I must decline."
"Military business?" Chloe frowned. "Surely you can make an exception. Daddy could-"
"I really must insist," Adrien cut her off but his tone was friendly. "There is a planning session for the construction of a new railroad, and I could not possibly miss it. Perhaps another time. In any case, I must be going. Take care today, Mademoiselle Bourgeois, Monsieur Lahiffe."
With a nod, Adrien slung the satchel over his shoulder and exited the room. Nobody spoke until he was gone. They were almost able to forget, sometimes, that he wasn't just another student. But Chloe reminded them consciously that he was not. He was a German officer. And no amount of kindness on his part would be enough to bridge that chasm.
Marinette had long ago made peace with her own feelings on the matter. Obviously her feelings were anathema. Even so, she assured herself that it was a quite harmless crush. It did not change her attitude towards the occupiers in the slightest, except to hate them even more for sending such a kind, polite boy to do their dirty work. Nor was it likely to affect her "night job" in any other way- Hauptman Agreste worked for a logistics unit that was unlikely to cross her path after dark.
And above all, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that if by some cruel twist of fate she was forced to deal with him as she had so many other officers, she would do so without hesitation.
So her heart and her mind had entered an uneasy alliance for the time being, and she had given up fighting her feelings in the matter. She allowed herself to indulge the small blush that rose to her face when she thought about how their hands had brushed against one another.
And so continued another day in Paris. Just as so many others, they had to live two lives. By day, Marinette Dupain worked at her parents' bakery while Adrien Agreste attended a dizzying number of meetings at the lavish Hôtel Le Meurice, taking careful notes and asking all of the right questions. By night, they struck at the occupiers in any way that they could. The ever-present spectre of capture meant that they could never reveal their true identities to anyone, not even each other. They could never imagine that their most trusted ally was also a classmate.
As Paris endured another autumn under crimson German flags, the game of survival would only become more challenging. New enemies would surface, old friends would disappear and danger would lurk increasingly behind every street corner. In the shadow of occupied Paris, the lives and adventures of Ladybug and Char Noir would continue.
A/N
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Thank you for reading! This idea has been floating around in my head since I very first got into the community around 2017. I definitely want to continue it if there's any interest!