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It's late, and she's tired, and Marinette should not be scrolling on her phone, but that's exactly what she's doing. Her mind is a little too awake to actually go to sleep. She can afford to doomscroll for a few minutes.
At some point she'd gotten distracted by a cute video of a kitten and made the mistake of pausing to watch it all the way through, so her carefully curated feed of fashion, art, and crafting is now also full of cats, kittens, art featuring cats, cat in tiny sweaters, and lists of fun facts about cats. It's cats as far as the eye can see. Marinette sighs. Is it really worth the effort it'll take to fix this?
She moves to close the app and look at something else when the next post catches her eye.
How to Train Your Cat:
An awful, wicked impulse begins to brew in the depths of her heart, the place that births all of her worst ideas.
Marinette flicks her thumb to pull up the rest of the post.
Cats aren't as easy to train as dogs, but that doesn't mean it's not possible. Here's three ways to train your cat:
- Positive Reinforcement: Cats don't have the inherent desire to please that dogs do, but that doesn't mean they don't care, especially if it comes with petting. Try scratching them behind the ears or under the chin when they've done something right!
- Treats: Some cats are more food-driven than others, but treats are a universal motivator! Give it to them immediately, or as close to the behavior you want to reward as possible. Wait too long, and the link between that behavior and the treat will vanish.
- Clicker Training: Some cats respond extremely well to the positive reinforcement of the click. Use it to mark the behavior, and follow up with a treat for best results!
- Above all, don't be surprised if training your cat takes a while. It takes time to build the right connections between the desired behavior and whichever reinforcement works for you.
She really, really shouldn't be thinking about doing what she's thinking about doing. Chat would actually murder her when he figured it out. And he would figure it out eventually – he's not stupid.
But if she could pull it off... God, that would be so funny. And she could hold it over his head for years.
Marinette tries out a couple of clicks that she can make just with her mouth and tongue, eventually settling on one that's soft and very similar to a noise she's heard her mother make when she's thinking about something. Plausible deniability is everything with this kind of prank.
Marinette turns off her phone and looks at herself in the dark mirror that her screen makes, silently asking herself if the joke is worth it.
She laughs. What is she saying?
Of course it is.
———
1. Positive Reinforcement
The akuma throws another blast of scalding hot coffee at Ladybug, who's plainly silhouetted against the roof eaves, and she ducks down to hide behind them with a grimace.
"He is really mad," she says to Chat.
He makes a face, too. "If he freezes the sewers again, we might be in trouble. Expansion-contraction cycles aren't good for... well, for anything, but especially for old buildings."
"We need to get him somewhere his powers are neutralized," Ladybug says, thinking out loud. "The river?" She glances at Chat. "Do you still have your power-ups on you?"
"Of course," he says, hefting his staff. "Never leave home without them. It's gonna be tough to dodge superheated water attacks," he warns her.
"Of course," Ladybug says with a shrug. "But he'll have to be more careful, too, unless he wants to hit himself at the same time. Go lead him to Pont des Artes – but take the long way around. I'll set up a little welcoming party."
Chat gives her a salute and leaps away, and Ladybug zips away in the opposite direction – just in time, too, because Lukewarm drops a huge block of frozen latte on the roof where they were standing not two seconds ago. Ladybug looks back at it over her shoulder and winces.
Ouch.
She heads to the river and swings her way along its length, staying close to the water and passing under each bridge, counting them off in her head: Alexander III, Concorde, the pedestrian bridge her father still calls Solférino, Pont Royal, the Carrousel, and there's Pont des Artes, with its metal beams and thick concrete feet. They can use those as cover...
The string of her yo-yo is nearly invisible unless someone knows exactly what to look for and where, so Ladybug spins an intricate web spanning the entire bridge at about five centimeters below the waterline. All they'll need to do is knock Lukewarm out of the water, or let him chase Chat upward, or anything that makes him retreat out of the water, and he'll be caught in the net. Easy pickings.
Ladybug perches on the edge of the bridge, tapping her blue macaron against her thigh as she keeps watch for Chat and the akuma. She checked the map in her yo-yo before she jumped up to the top, and his tiny pawprint was moving this way, but it's possible that Chat got hit and he's hurt, which means she'll need to be ready to take over diversion duty when he's here –
But when Chat does eventually come into sight, there's no one behind him. He's bounding along the walkway at the edge of the river on hands and feet, a playful arch to his back, his tail whipping in the breeze created by his passing. He looks like he's out for a stroll, not in a fight for his life with a supervillain.
As he comes closer, Ladybug realizes there's something in his mouth.
Chat leaps up onto the bridge and bounces along the top of each streetlight until he reaches her. He takes the thing out of his mouth and offers it to her. It's a paper sleeve, like some of the cafés use to insulate to-go coffee cups.
Ladybug blinks. Is this –
"I Cataclysmed a fire hydrant as I was going by and it got him in the face," Chat says with a shrug that doesn't hide how pleased he is with himself. For once, Ladybug doesn't feel the need to tease him back to a normal level of ego. This is great.
She has to go get her yo-yo before she can do anything. After that, it's easy. She rips the sleeve in half and the butterfly squeezes itself out of the crack, flapping away desperately, like Ladybug's going to let it get away. She cleanses it and sets the city to rights, smiling as the ladybugs do their work.
That's when Ladybug remembers her prank.
She turns to Chat and offers him the usual fistbump, but afterward, she reaches up and scratches him behind the ear, too. "Really good job today, kitty," she says with a smile. "I could get used to having the items delivered to me!"
Chat's eyes go hazy, half-lidded, and there's a hint of a purr under his voice when he speaks. "I doubt it'll be that easy next time," he says, chuckling. "But you deserve a break."
"So do you, kitty," she says, allowing her hand to drop away from him. "Patrol tomorrow night?"
"Yeah, I'll be there," Chat agrees with an easy smile. "See you, bugaboo."
"Don't call me that!" Ladybug shouts after him as he poles away, snickering; when he's disappeared over the edge of the roof, she sighs, and smiles to herself.
He never changes.
———
2. Treats
Just after closing, Marinette puts her head through the door into the bakery to find her mother counting the register. "Maman, can I pick through what didn't sell?"
Her mother casts an experienced eye over the cases and displays. Most of them are nearly empty. They get a lot of foot traffic after the schools let out and the office workers descend for le goûter, so this is what's left of the last round of baking her father did in the afternoon.
"Not the petit fours," her mother says after a minute. "There's a lot left. I'm going to package them for half-price tomorrow morning. If there's any left when you leave for school, you can stop in for a box and take it with you. Other than those, go ahead and take whatever you like. Are you meeting up with Alya?"
"Yep!" Marinette goes over and takes two flattened boxes, popping the top one open to hide the second one underneath. Two croissants, a chocolate croissant, a few stray chouquettes, a single chocolate-dipped madeleine for Tikki – she skips the fruit tarts, because they're more expensive and she knows her mother likes them, but the cheese twists are fair game.
She drops a kiss on her mother's cheek as she goes by, reddening as Sabine glances at the stuffed box of treats. "Studying," Marinette groans. "We need brain food."
"I remember those years," her mother says, laughing. "And I'm glad I'm past them! Have fun, sweetheart."
"Thanks, Maman. I love you," Marinette says happily. She calls toward the back, "I'm going out, Papa. Love you!"
She knows her father is probably cleaning and won't be able to come out, but his voice drifts back to her through the door. "Say hi to Alya for us, my mini baguette!"
How is it possible to feel so utterly mortified and so well and truly loved at the same time? Parent magic, maybe.
"Will do!" she calls back cheerfully and escapes for her life.
Marinette does meet up with Alya to work on assignments, but she only takes half of the treats. The rest, she wraps up for patrol later on.
Swinging through Paris with a pastry box in one hand is annoyingly complicated, so Ladybug only does it when she's craving something sweet or if Chat asks in his best pleading kitten sort of way, so it's very easy to let herself stumble as she lands on the rooftop where they're meeting tonight. A couple of the pastries fall out of the box; one of the chouquettes actually tumbles off the side and down to the street below, which is a shame. Chat spins around, his expression astonished.
"Damn," Ladybug says, diving for the other one. "Chat, can you grab that?"
That is a croissant rolling end over end toward the gutter. Chat leaps for it, his face lighting up as he realizes what it is. "Oh, man," he says happily. "You're the best, LB."
"Oh, no," she says at once, spinning around and pointing at him. "Bring that here, please." She holds out her hand for the pastry, and Chat sighs and comes over to give it to her. The second he does, Ladybug makes that soft clicking sound in her mouth she'd practiced and smiles at him.
"You shouldn't have to eat that, kitty, you don't know where it's been. Here, have this one instead." She offers him the chocolate croissant and watches him light up again.
Why isn't she doing this more often? It's so easy, and it makes him so happy.
"Chocolate, too? What did I do to deserve this?" Chat bites off the end of the croissant and groans. Through a full mouth, he says, "I could eat these every day for the rest of my life and never get sick of them."
She very nearly tells him that the sweet stuff can get old if you eat enough of it, but thinks better of it at the last second. That's too close. Paris is full of bakeries on every street corner, of course, but Chat knows Marinette. Who knows what kind of associations he might make if she slips up?
"Is that your life's dream?" Ladybug teases instead. "To be a spoiled little house kitty who gets fed treats every day?"
Chat swallows, smirking to himself in a private joke Ladybug doesn't get. "Nah, I'm not into the rich bitch lifestyle," he says easily. "I'm more interested in being sweet to someone special. You wouldn't happen to know anyone who was interested, would you?" He leans in to examine her with his big, mischievous eyes intent on her face.
Ladybug wrinkles her nose and pushes him away with one finger. "Not unless you count Hawkmoth."
He breaks out into laughter, letting her move him where she pleases. "Gross," he says with the squirmy delight of a little boy. "Ew, ew, ew. You win. Let me die here."
Chat collapses backward in a dramatic heap and lays there, not even twitching, like he really did just fall over and die –
But Ladybug notices that he keeps a firm grip on his croissant.
Sometimes she wishes she could give Chat what he wants. He would be so good to her. She knows that in her heart of hearts. And it's not that she never...
Identities are in the way, of course they are, but really, the thing that stands between them is Adrien. Always and forever Adrien.
Heavy thoughts for such a nice night.
Ladybug nudges the unnaturally still figure of her partner with her toes. "Come on, kitty, we should go pretend to fight crime."
"You want me to move?" Chat says without opening his eyes.
"There's another croissant in it for you..." Ladybug says in a singsong voice she normally uses on Manon.
She doesn't need a croissant for herself, to be honest. It's hard to get enthusiastic about stuff she helped make.
In an instant, Chat's flipped up onto his feet and he's bounding toward the end of the street. "What are you waiting for, slowpoke?" he calls back over his shoulder.
"Hey!" Ladybug shouts, instantly outraged, and chases after him.
———
3. Clicker Training
The post wasn't lying – it really does take a long time. And after looking it up, it seems like only reinforcing it intermittently makes it take even longer.
That can't be helped, though. Sometimes Ladybug is too focused on the fight to remember to do the click, or she misses the right moment and thinks of it too late, or it's just really, really not the time. Like when Chat almost bleeds out on the street and the akuma was so close to catching Ladybug that she couldn't stop to save him, couldn't do anything, she was useless –
The stupid prank was the furthest thing from her mind that day. After the fight was over, the only thing Ladybug wanted was to hug Chat and listen to him breathing, listen to his heart beat. For once, Chat doesn't say anything. He curls his arms around her, buries his nose in her hair, and breathes with her.
That helps more than anything else.
So this joke is more of a long-term thing. That's fine with her. It's starting to work, anyway; when Ladybug absent-mindedly tosses a bottle at a nearby trash can and misses, Chat goes for it instantly and actually turns around with it in his hand to come back to her before he stops. He blinks at himself, looking confused and shaking his head, and throws it away himself instead.
But that's progress.
He did ask her about the clicking once. Ladybug tries to pass it off as a noise her friend makes while she's thinking, a habit, one that Ladybug must have picked up accidentally.
"Are you sure it's not some sort of buggy tendency?" Chat teases. "You must have something."
"You mean like your purring?" Ladybug asks, raising one delicate eyebrow.
Chat scowls at her. He seems horribly embarrassed about it, though Ladybug has no idea why; she thinks it's adorable. She's been giving him more scratches than she used to just to hear it. It's really soothing, actually. She might have been spending more time on patrols and after akuma fights with Chat because –
Because he makes her feel safe.
That's it. That's all. He's her best friend, and Ladybug never feels as safe as she does when he's nearby, or when he's purring for her.
(Chat only purrs for her. Ladybug refuses to think about how that makes her feel.)
"I have that shit, and the tail, and the ears, and the heightened sense of smell," Chat says, counting them off on his fingers. "And you got, what, getting extra cold in winter? That seems so unfair. How can I tease you when your lips are turning blue?"
"You manage it somehow," Ladybug says dryly.
"Well, yeah," Chat says like it was a stupid thing to say. He flops down next to her on the roof. "But tell me you're clicking because of the miraculous. Lie to me, if you have to. It'll make me feel better." He turns his head to give her that grin of his, the one she loves because it makes him look wild and uncontained, like a tiger she's somehow tamed to her hand.
Ladybug doesn't want to lie to him, though. She does enough of that as it is.
"I wouldn't give you the satisfaction," she says instead, and smiles when Chat laughs.
Clicking's not going so badly, actually, for all of the things that get in the way, civilian life and akumas and dying and the terrifying process of growing up in a world that's not sure what to do with teenagers or how to treat them; sometimes she can see the results of it in Chat's instincts, which makes Marinette hope that the whole thing will come together soon.
She could really use a laugh one of these days.
———
4. The Desired Behavior
Marinette knew the second she woke up that today was going to be miserable. It was in the pounding in her head, and the way she felt sticky and sweaty even though it's a cool spring day outside. There's a tickle in her throat and she thinks something might have taken up residence in her sinuses.
Would Tikki go in there and clear it out if she asked nicely?
The small god in question touches her little arm to Marinette's forehead, her eyes concerned. "Marinette, you're burning up."
"I know," Marinette moans. "I can't miss any more school, Tikki. They're going to try to talk to my parents if I miss any more classes."
Since most of Marinette's absences are unexcused, due to the wholly illegal and frankly unfair number of akumas over the last year, she can't allow this to happen.
"It's really early in the cycle, Marinette. You might be contagious," Tikki warns her.
This actually makes Marinette pause for a minute. She has zero desire to get her classmates sick. On the other hand, she has to weigh that against her being able to live a relatively free and unsupervised sort of life so she can defend Paris. And –
Marinette squints at Tikki. "I thought that by the time you start showing symptoms, you're not contagious anymore."
Tikki shrugs.
Groaning, Marinette reaches up for her phone and consults Doctor WebMD. She diagnoses herself with a head cold, and luckily, she was right about the chances of her passing something on to other people. As long as she washes her hands, wears a facemask, and doesn't sneeze on anyone, her classmates will probably be fine.
A hot shower clears out her head enough that she doesn't sound that stuffy when she says goodbye to her mother, speeding past her and out the door before Sabine can do more than narrow her eyes. Her mother has the eyes of a caring and devoted hawk, and if she even suspects that Marinette is sick...
But no one calls out behind her for her to come back, and Marinette breaths a sigh of relief.
She hefts her bag higher on her shoulder. She has cough drops, tissues, and paracetamol, just in case, and she ties on her pink face mask as she crosses the street and turns toward the school.
"Hey, girl," Alya says, tilting her head curiously. "You okay?"
"Just a little tickle!" Marinette makes her voice as bright as she can, given that she's feeling like someone rolled her across the street for all the cars to drive over on the way here. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."
Alya links their arms together and steers Marinette inside and toward the stairs. "I'm going to keep an eye on you," she says suspiciously. "I trust you with everything except your own well-being."
"Rude," Marinette says unhappily. Alya is like a foxhound on the scent when she thinks someone is hiding something from her.
"Come on," Alya says, tickling Marinette's side a little to make her giggle. "It's just because I care about you."
"I know." Marinette smiles at Alya, forgetting for a second that Alya can't see her mouth, but Alya grins back at her anyway.
They play a game on Alya's phone until Nino comes in, rubbing his head and scowling; he and Alya immediately get into a playful bickering fight about something he'd sent her last night, which allows Marinette to rest her head on her hand and just watch instead of holding up her part of the conversation. She's not really feeling all that funny right now. Her head feels like there's lead inside of it, instead of air. Ick.
Nino's actually more used to Marinette's facemask than Alya is; he knows that she wears it sometimes when she's not quite feeling well, so he doesn't ask questions. It's funny to remember that she's known Nino the longest, out of the three of them, even if they weren't close before this year...
The others trickle into the classroom in ones and twos until it's almost time for the bell to ring. Adrien slips in just before it goes off, smiling apologetically at Ms. Bustier as he flies over to his seat. "Hey," he whispers to Nino, and turns to smile at Alya and Marinette.
His smile turns confused when he sees Marinette's facemask, which changes swiftly to concern. "Are you okay?"
"Adrien," Ms. Bustier calls. "Eyes front, please."
Adrien hesitates for a moment, looking at her intently, and Marinette can feel herself flushing – or is that the fever? Either way, it's making her feel things, and she needs it to stop.
"I'm okay," she whispers. "Promise."
He gives her a grateful smile and turns around to face the board. Marinette sighs a little, willing her temperature to return to normal, or as close as it's going to get right now. She doesn't like lying to Adrien, but sometimes it's necessary if she doesn't want to explode.
Her first two classes go okay, but toward the end of the second one, Marinette realizes that she's starting to get even more tired than she was before; she's used up a lot of her energy, and her headache is getting worse. She sounds stuffy, too. Alya has been giving her the squint eye for about ten minutes when the bell for lunch rings.
"Can we eat outside?" Marinette asks immediately. If she has to take off her mask, then she should go where there aren't a ton of her classmates. She doesn't bother to try to ditch Alya; her best friend isn't letting Marinette out of her sight right now, and Marinette knows that.
"Sure," Alya agrees. "Want to find a bench? I'll get us food."
They eat in the courtyard, sitting on the ground and using the corner of one of the benches as a table. It's only when she looks at the food Alya brought that she realizes she's not all that hungry, after all, and she has to force some of it down before Alya does it for her.
She does a lot of picking at what's left, though, and she knows Alya notices.
"Are you sure you don't want to go home?" Alya asks gently.
Marinette shakes her head. "I can't afford any more absences," she says. "Mr. Damocles said he'd call my parents next time. And I can't explain it to them."
"But if your mom called it in, it wouldn't be an unexcused absence," Alya says, her eyebrows forming a thick line. "Did you not tell her you were sick?"
Marinette opens her mouth to explain her very well thought out reasons, only to realize that they seem to have vanished somewhere between waking up and now. That there were very good reasons, Marinette is willing to swear to; but what they are? Who knows? Maybe they vanished to the same place most of her dreams disappear to.
"No," she says miserably, sniffling. The sound is thick and wet. She sounds pathetic, and she feels it, too.
Alya reaches over and lays the back of her hand on Marinette's forehead. "You're burning up, girl. Come on. We're going to the nurse, right now."
Adrien and Nino come through the door, laughing about something on Adrien's phone, just as Alya steers Marinette past the door and toward the nurse's office. "Hey," Adrien says, looking from Alya to Marinette as his smile loses some of its luster. "What's up?"
"My best girl here was lying to us about how garbage she was feeling," Alya says grimly. "You probably want to hang back, Adrien. You know your father won't like it if you get sick."
Adrien ignores her entirely. In fact, he does the exact opposite, coming straight over to Marinette and feeling her forehead for himself. "Why didn't you say something?" he asks, his beautiful eyes worried.
It's a lot of focused attention that Marinette isn't used to, doesn't know how to handle; she already felt like she was overheating, and now? Adrien is looking at her like there's nothing else in the entire world, and his hand on her forehead is so gentle, so soft and warm, that Marinette feels like she's floating in a thick, white cloud.
"How else am I supposed to see you, pretty boy?"
Adrien's eyes go wide. He starts turning pink, then chokes as red washes over his entire face all the way up to his hairline.
"Whoa," Alya says, her voice very amused. "Maybe I should get M to the nurse now. I'll meet you in class, okay? Tell Ms. Bustier where I am if I'm late." She wraps her arm around Marinette's shoulders and steers her around Adrien's motionless body.
Marinette is staring into the middle distance. "Alya," she whispers. "Please tell me it wasn't me who said that."
"Oh, that was you, all right," Alya says in a low, laughing voice. "I'm just really sad I wasn't filming. I could have lived on that video for months."
Marinette closes her eyes and groans. "Please just let me die. You can have the box. The earrings. I will you all of my earthly belongings."
"Oh, no," Alya says, a huge grin in her voice. "Didn't you see that boy's face? I cannot wait to see what happens the next time you two have to talk to each other. I'll nurse you back to health myself, if I have to. I am not missing this, girl. Not for any reason."
———
5. Consequences
Her mother comes to the school to walk her home and tucks her straight into bed with a cup of tea on one of the shelves above her bed. Marinette sighs, turning into her pillow, and smiles as her mother presses a kiss to her forehead. "Get some sleep, okay? I'll bring you something plain for a snack later."
"Thanks, Maman," Marinette says sleepily.
After her mother leaves, Tikki crawls out of her purse and comes over to examine Marinette, too. "You're worse than this morning, but not by a lot," she says critically. "It probably won't be too bad, but you seemed to be out of it earlier. Try to be careful about what you say, okay?"
"Mmmkay..." Marinette says, trailing off into a yawn. She snuggles down into her blanket and drifts off immediately into a thick, heavy kind of sleep, like a weighted blanket over her whole mind. She doesn't dream.
It feels like hours pass before she feels someone brushing the bangs away from her forehead. "Hey, sleepyhead," he says quietly, so, so quietly, so soft and caring. She knows that voice. "I came by to bring you your homework. I wanted to see how you were. I noticed you didn't drink all day long. I've got a water bottle here, do you want it?"
Now that he mentions it, her throat is killing her. "Mmm," she manages. She pries her eyes open; they feel crusty and gross, so it takes her a minute. There's a blur of bright blond hair and concerned green eyes looking at her over the edge of her bed.
Wait, she's supposed to... do something? He brought her what she needed, and that means –
Oh, right.
She makes the clicking noise and reaches out to scratch his head right behind the cat ears. Though it feels different for some weird reason... "Good kitty. Good job, kitty cat. I would love some water," she says with some effort. Ew. Is that her voice? It's all thick and snotty. It sounds like something died inside of her nose. Come to think of it, that's how it feels, too.
But he doesn't give her the water. Instead he's just standing there, staring at her, his eyes growing wider and wider – his face is going pale, too, which is weird because –
Because she's not used to seeing so much of it.
Chat's not wearing his mask. Or the kitty ears. And his eyes are just green, not the unearthly green-on-green she's used to.
Marinette wakes all the way up in an instant, a wave of panicked adrenaline surging through her whole body and forcing her to sit straight up in bed and stare at Adrien Agreste.
She stares at him, panting, and he stares right back, his pupils shrinking into tiny, shocked dots; only the slight rise and fall of Adrien's chest sets him apart from the wax statue of him at the museum. He looks like he's freaking out. She must have startled him out of his mind. Marinette doesn't touch Adrien very often, both because the thought of it terrifies her, and she's not sure her heart could handle it, no matter if he welcomes it or doesn't; either way, she's going to explode. And she was petting his hair, fuck fuck fuck –
"I'm so sorry, Adrien," she says all at once in a jumbled heap of words. "I was half asleep, I didn't recognize you, I thought – I thought you were another friend of mine, please, I'm so sorry!"
Something intense and focused comes into Adrien's eyes. "Did you really?" he asks softly.
To her own horror, Marinette hears herself stumbling through a rambling explanation of the entire stupid joke and how long she's been working on her friend to get him to fetch for her with petting and positive reinforcement. The longer she explains, the more she reveals and trips over and talks around very very badly, the more Adrien relaxes, a tiny smile forming on his face as he moves closer to the bed.
"You've been clicker training your friend? Marinette, that's kind of evil. I didn't know you had it in you."
She laughs nervously. He doesn't seem to be upset anymore, but now she doesn't know what Adrien's thinking. He's got a gleam in his green eyes that she's never seen there before, like he's enjoying how flustered she's getting. She groans and covers her face with one hand.
"It was going to be so funny," she grumbles. "I'm a jerk, aren't I?"
Adrien laughs. He sounds really close now; Marinette drops her hand and finds that he's resting his chin on the rail that runs around her bed. He's not that much taller than she is – is he? When did Adrien grow so tall? "You could never be a jerk," he says, grinning at her toothily. "But you are in so much trouble, little bug. I'm going to get you back for this, you know."
What.
What.
"...What did you just say?" Marinette whispers, a huge, hard knot gathering in her stomach.
"Hey, don't worry," Adrien says immediately, snaking his arm through the rail to grab her hand and hold it tight. "It's just me. You know me, bugaboo. You had me figured out before. Trust yourself."
Earlier... But how much earlier? When she lied to him in class? When she absolutely lost her mind and called him pretty?
Or when she'd mistaken him for Chat Noir?
Marinette looks at Adrien; she looks at him and looks at him and looks at him some more, her mouth trembling, tears coming hot and hard to blur her vision.
Was it a mistake?
She tries to form the word a couple of times, but she's so exhausted and stressed and overemotional that she's having a hard time controlling herself. Marinette swallows, and tries again. "Kitty?"
Adrien gives her Chat's wild, untamed smile. She would never have imagined that it would look so good on him, that it would fit him so well, even with Adrien's buttoned-up, clean aesthetic. "In the flesh," he says easily. "Everything is fine. I promise. We can talk later, okay? You're sick, and you need to rest." He squeezes her hand again. It's Adrien's hand, Adrien's warm skin that sends her entire head into a tailspin, but it's also Chat's steady, comforting presence, the only person she trusts without question or reservation holding her steady. "Text me when you're well enough to schedule a patrol."
Marinette nods slowly, obscenely grateful that he's willing to wait to have the really long conversation that they need to have. She has time to think of plans and contingencies to keep them safe.
And she will keep them safe. No matter what.
Adrien squeezes her hand again and lets go. She opens her hand reluctantly, suddenly loathe to let him leave, but if Adrien has to go, Marinette knows that there's nothing she can do to change it. He takes a few steps back from her bed, looking around her room with curious eyes, and something under her bed in the vicinity of her desk makes him smirk.
"Hey, Marinette?" Adrien asks, amusement heavy in his voice. "Did you mean it when you called me pretty?"
She gasps, inhaling so hard that it hurts her chest a little, and hectic color floods her face, so hot that she can feel her own skin trying to burn itself to ashes to get out of answering that question.
Adrien takes one look at her and laughs a little, a quiet little thing, scratching the back of his neck at the same time. The tips of his ears are pink. "Okay, I'm gonna take that as a yes," he says, still amused, but kind of shy, too. "That can be a later chat, too. I just wanted... Actually, I was taking advantage of you being sick. Sorry. That was kind of shitty. I'll text you, okay?"
He gives her a wave and one long, lingering look, burning with a kind of intensity that makes Marinette feel squirmy in her stomach, and then he disappears down the stairs, closing the hatch behind him. Like he was never there at all – except there really is homework on her desk waiting for her, and the water bottle in her bed is cold and damp with condensation.
So that probably wasn't a dream.
———
Later that night, Adrien texts her.
[Adrien]
Hey, you
How are you feeling?
[Marinette]
um, either the bakery is wobbling or my balance is. and I ache all over.
but I've been worse!
[Adrien]
Okay, I think you need more rest.
[Marinette]
I've rested all dayyyyyyy :(
[Adrien]
Do you need kitty purrs to put you back to sleep?
Marinette chokes out loud. Tikki rolls over, her face alarmed; when she realizes that Marinette's on her phone, Tikki crawls over to look at the screen and starts giggling way harder than Marinette thinks necessary. Wincing, Marinette types a reply.
[Marinette]
...you noticed that?
[Adrien]
Of course I did. The girl I'm in love with wanted to listen to me purr. I've been over the moon about it for months.
Right now Marinette doesn't quite have the breath support to scream as long and as loud as she wants to, but burying her face in her cat pillow and giving it her best try feels pretty good, anyway.
If Chat still loves her now that the masks have come off – if Adrien's realized that he's actually in love with one of his best friends – then Marinette is so close to having everything she's ever wanted. She just has to be brave enough to reach out and take it.
Her fingers are shaking as she taps out her reply.
[Marinette]
how do you think I feel? the boy I'm in love with only purrs for me.
His reply is instant.
[Adrien]
Only ever for you. 💖
Marinette's shriek of delight scratches her rough throat from the inside, but it still feels so, so good.
———
6. Revenge
Ladybug's sitting on one of the open girders near the top of the Eiffel tower. She and Chat arranged this patrol a couple of days ago. She might be a little early. She thought Chat would be early, too, but he's left her kicking her heels. Ladybug's mouth twists reproachfully. She hasn't even gotten to see him at school, since her parents are being so cautious about making sure Marinette's all better before she goes back.
She sighs.
"Missing me, bugaboo?" says Chat's voice in her ear.
Ladybug gasps and jerks sideways, only saved by Chat grabbing her elbow at the last second. He's laughing, which is not calculated to make her forgive him. Ladybug squints at him, and he holds his hand up defensively. "Sorry, sorry," he says, still grinning. "I shouldn't have crept up on you. You sure you're feeling up to this?"
"I'm all better, kitty, I promise," Ladybug says, gesturing at herself. Chat's eyes follow her hand, sweeping over her body in a swift look that shouldn't make her feel like it does.
But he doesn't flirt with her, or try to kiss her, or any of the other hundred scenarios Ladybug imagined when they were arranging this patrol.
"Good," Chat says, smiling at her with all of his teeth exposed.
Have his canines always been so long and pointy? And – and gleaming?
Ladybug only realizes Chat's been hiding his other hand when he brings it out of the shelter of his body and shows her what he's holding. It's a huge bag that could have come from any of the grocery stores around Paris; many of them use this kind of bag to sell the same thing.
It's packed full of ice.
"I'd start running, if I were you," Chat says, the glint in his eye growing, growing, until Ladybug realizes that he's absolutely, deadly serious about this. "I spent the whole time you were sick practicing my aim. I've gotten pretty good." He takes a piece of ice out of the bag and flicks it at her nose.
Ladybug dodges it, her heart pounding.
He wouldn't – would he?
The smirk on Chat's face tells her:
Yes. Yes, he would.
Without any warning at all, Chat lunges for her. Ladybug shrieks, instinctively throwing herself off the tower. She picks a distant building and lassos it to yank herself away; as she's flying, she looks over her shoulder to find Chat in hot pursuit, the bag of ice clenched tight in his hand.
"You're dead meat, my lady!" he shouts to her, his voice mostly lost on the wind. But the grin on his face – that's unmistakable.
Ladybug throws her head back and cackles.
She doesn't regret a single moment of the last six months.
Not even one.