Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘Grandpa! Grandpa! I found something!’

Adrien stuck his head inside the library. ‘What are you doing here, Dottie? I thought you were in the playroom?’

‘I was looking for a book,’ his granddaughter fluttered her lashes, a perfect picture of innocence filled her green eyes. ‘but I found this instead.’ She presented him with her discovery, a black wooden box, already missing the lid. ‘There are all these funny things inside. What is it, Grandpa?’

Adrien sighed. Dottie was a curious little kitten and once she set her head to something, there was no way to discourage her until her curiosity was fed. He smiled, suppressing a chuckle. Nosiness was definitely a Cesaire streak, as were the gentle chestnut curls Dottie inherited after Grandma Alya.

‘You shouldn’t take things that aren’t yours, kitten. Not without asking me or Nana,’ he admonished her, but entered the library anyway. He crouched next to the girl and peered inside the box, although he knew exactly what he had put in there forty years ago. But he hadn’t opened it in a long time and now as he eyed the content, he couldn’t help feeling more than a little nostalgic.

‘This is my keepsake box, see,’ he reached to the bottom and found a slightly faded picture of his first class at Françoise Dupoint. ‘I wonder if you recognize any of your grandparents in this photo, sweetie,’ he waved the photograph in front of Dottie’s eyes.

She scrunched her nose as she studied the image. ‘This girl…’ after a while she pointed to a bespectacled redhead, ‘she looks a bit like me. Is this Grandma Alya?’

‘You’re a bright little kitten. Yeah, this is Grandma Alya,’ Adrien chuckled. ‘You look a lot like her. Wanna keep guessing?’

‘Not really. No one else looks familiar. But this is more interesting!’ Dottie grabbed a few items from the box. ‘What are these?’

Adrien put the photograph aside. ‘Let’s see, shall we?’

‘This looks like a scarf,’ the girl pointed out. ‘It’s pretty. Can I try in on?’

‘Okay, but be careful,’ he frowned when she wrapped herself in the light blue fabric.

‘Smells a bit like you, Grandpa!’ she exclaimed and he couldn’t help but to burst into laughter.

‘That’s because it’s mine. I used to wear it a lot,’ Adrien admitted, ruffling her hair. ‘But then I got scared it might get damaged so I put it here to keep it safe.’

‘Ooooh,’ Dottie cooed. ‘It that case you better take it away. Nana says that I am a little cataclysm on two legs!’

‘Well, she should know best I suppose,’ he snickered. ‘She was once declared the Clumsy Queen,’ he winked and the girl giggled.

Dottie smiled, showing the cute little dimples he adored so much. ‘‘She told me! Nana said I shouldn’t worry about that, because I am good at so many other things. It’s okay to be clumsy,’ she stated proudly.

‘Otherwise people would think you’re too perfect,’ Adrien bumped her gently on the nose. ‘What else do you have there, kitten?’

‘A hat!’ The girl pulled out a black derby and plopped it on her head. It immediately fell to cover her eyes and only her nose was visible from under the rim. She turned her head blindly a few times eliciting another bout of laughter from Adrien. He adjusted the hat so that she could get her vision back, using this occasion to brush a speck of dust from the top. The feathers have long ago been replaced with fake ones, but he still had to suppress a sneeze at the memory. ‘How do I look, Grandpa?’

‘Pawsome, I mean awesome!’ he rushed to take his mobile and shoot a few pictures with Dottie striking funny poses. ‘You’re certainly the cat’s meow!’

‘Was it your hat?’ she asked putting it on his head.

‘Yes, I once modeled it for my father.’ Adrien skewed the derby to the side aiming for a rakish look. Dottie scooted closer and pecked a kiss on his cheek, while he managed to snap a selfie.

The girl pushed a few CDs into his hands. ‘Ooooh, what are these? I’ve never seen anything like this!’

He couldn’t help but to smirk at her enthusiasm. ‘These are called discs. When I was young people recorded files on them, including music,’ he explained. ‘This is a record of one of my favorite artists - Jagged Stone. Have you heard of him?’

Dottie nodded and clasped her hands, ‘Nana likes him too! Can we listen to it now, Grandpa?’

‘Sure, but like this,’ he waved his device at her and pulled up the music app. ‘I no longer have a CD player, though I’m almost sure Grandpa Nino still has one.’ He pulled up his playlist and in a few seconds Jagged Stone’s music filled the library.

‘Oh, Grandpa, someone drew something on your discs,’ Dottie saddened and pointed to the signature scribbled on the cover. ‘That is rude. Maman says no one should draw in books and such!’

Adrien laughed at her indignant pout. ‘That’s okay, sweetie. This is a signature of the person who designed this cover. I asked her to sign it for me.’

‘Hmmmm,’ the girl hummed biting her lower lip. ‘Then I guess it’s okay,’ she finally declared. ‘There’s lots of things here,’ she ducked into the box and returned with hands full of new items. ‘Why did you put these in the box?’ she asked inspecting a pair of rag-dolls, one in a red black dotted suit, with blue pigtails, and one dressed all in black, with tail and cat-ears.

Adrien lifted the Ladybug doll from Dottie’s hands with a gentle reverence and brushed his fingers over its hair and suit. His eyes glazed with sudden affection and prickled with unexpected moisture.

‘Grandpa?’ his granddaughter called, taking his hand.

‘I’m okay, kitten, I just… remembered something,’ he replied with a weak smile. ‘These are just a few things that I’d put here to remember a very special person; the one who made them,’ he said after a moment. ‘This is my secret treasure,’ he whispered taking the things scattered on the carpet and reverently putting them back in the box, ‘don’t tell anyone I showed it to you,’ he winked, pushing the memories to the back of his mind. It wouldn’t do to scare his granddaughter with sudden display of emotions.

‘That person… the one who designed the cover? She made all these?’ Dottie asked, her eyes blown wide. She rummaged in the box again and this time, much to Adrien’s dread retrieved a picture of his fourteen year old self posing for a photo next to a masked girl clad in a tight red suit. There was a yoyo and a few hearts scribbled on the side and a handwritten inscription, which Dottie thankfully wouldn’t be able to read yet with her beginner’s level reading skills.

A sparkle of recognition flickered in his granddaughter’s eyes and Adrien already knew there was no other way out of it. The photo cemented his fate. ‘Is this her?’ she asked. ‘What was her name?’

Adrien sighed in defeat and sunk into his armchair. ‘Ladybug. Her name was Ladybug, sweetie,’

‘Like that girl from the books Grandma Alya wrote?’ the girl turned to look at him. She couldn’t have read Alya’s books, they were way to advanced for her, but she must have seen the pictures in them.

‘That’s the one,’ he confirmed waving Lady-doll’s hand at her.

Dottie was clearly impressed, her eyes skipping over the contents of the box with a newfound respect. ‘Did you know her?’

Adrien’s smile grew wide. ‘Everyone in Paris knew her. She protected the city,’ he stated proudly.

‘Duh, I know that,’ she whined rolling her eyes in a manner so similar to Ladybug that he had to suppress a gasp. ‘But did you know her like, talked to her, spent time with her, or… or…’

There was fondness in Adrien’s voice when he replied softly, ‘Yes. She was my friend.’ He reached out and pulled Dottie onto his lap. ‘Wanna hear more about her?’ he asked, walking the Ladybug doll towards her Chat Noir partner that his granddaughter still firmly held in her grasp. The black rag hero waved his tiny hand courtesy of Dottie’s fingers and sat on the armrest.

‘Yes, please,’ the girl breathed, her big green eyes boring intently into him.

‘Okay, then listen up,’ Adrien took a deep breath. His eyes glazed again as he travelled almost fifty years back. ‘Once there was a heroine, Princess of Paris…’

‘My Lady,‘ he thought.

Chapter Text

Adrien stared at the Ladybug rag-doll in his hands, thinking about what to say next. How do you take an idea as big as Ladybug and shape it into mundane words? How do you take a memory dearest to your heart and share it so clearly, you don’t lose a single dot?

His thoughts ran to breezy rooftops, to chases under the halfmoon, to cold metal of Eiffel Tower and gutters, to battles and alleys, balconies and confessions. And suddenly there was a blush on his cheeks. His heart sped up. His eyes stung with the prickly feeling of accumulating moisture. He never felt more alive than at his Lady’s side.

‘Grandpa?’

Dottie’s small voice managed to break through the haze of memories filling his mind.

‘Earth to Grandpa Adrien!’ she waved a hand in front of his unseeing eyes and with a jerk he snapped back to reality.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, ‘I was just wondering what to tell you first.’

‘How about, what was she like?’ the girl prompted. ‘Was she brave and fearless? Like in fairy tales?’

‘She was very brave, kitten, unbelievably so,’ Adrien replied. ‘Did you know she was only fourteen when she became a heroine? Many people wouldn’t be brave enough to manage the task. But she did, and she was amaaaaaziiiing!’

Dottie chuckled at his admiration.

‘This isn’t funny, sweetie. You can’t image the monsters she had to fight, the obstacles she had to work through. Yet she never wavered, always did the job that was in front of her.’

‘Wasn’t she scared?’ The girl wriggled excitedly. ‘I would be scared of monsters!’

‘She was, kitten. She was,’ Adrien sighed. ‘She wasn’t stupid, you know. She had her doubts and she feared for the safety of people, especially those close to her. And that was what made her stronger. She didn’t cower in the face of danger. She made it disappear.’

‘Wow,’ Dotties eyes lit up with appreciation. ‘I wish I knew how to do that.’

‘What made her special was that she always remembered who the real enemy was. Not the victims bent to his will, innocent and manipulated to serve his purpose,’ Adrien’s features hardened at the memory of who the enemy turned out to be. ‘One of the things I admired about her was that she had respect for everyone, even those who had done her wrong, who had tried to bully her or lie to her. Everyone could count on her when they needed help.’

He smirked when he saw that Dottie was enchanted, turned into stone on his lap; mouth agape, eyes as big as saucers. That was Ladybug’s magic.

‘While in her famous super red costume, she was stronger, tougher, faster, and she had some special powers,’ he continued. ‘But she was the hero in and out of the suit. That’s what made her so special.’

‘She was a hero without her suit? What did she do then?’

‘She never tolerated injustice and she always called out those doing bad things,’ Adrien replied cryptically. It had been really hard to accept that his own friend had been among those people. ‘But she could see good in anyone and had her ways to bring it to light,’ he smiled at the thought how far Chloe had gone from class bully to responsible and respected politician. ‘With great results.’

‘The girl behind the mask was a brilliant leader,’ he supplied. ‘People followed her because she cared for them. They knew she would help them; they trusted her. She could move mountains with her enthusiasm and it was contagious,’ Adrien chuckled. ‘Once she even took command of the City Hall, and the Mayor listened to her orders - her, a barely fourteen year old girl in pink slacks!’

Dottie laughed with him, clearly amused at the possibility of a grown man listening to little girls. ‘She must have been very smart then.’

‘She was. Oh, she was so smart, kitten! You have no idea!’ he exclaimed. ‘She could think her way out of any trouble. Finding solutions was her specialty as a hero, but she was very creative on her own. I’ve already told you - she had made all the things in that box. Every one of them is her unique creation.’

‘I like her,’ the girl decided.

‘I’m not surprised, kitten!’ Adrien bumped her nose again. ‘You’d have a lot in common!’

Dottie perked up at this news. ‘Really? Like what?’

‘She liked video-games, like you do. In healthy amounts,’ he added before she could argue about the time he let her play. ‘She cared for her friends and family. She was passionate about everything she did, like you are, my little kitten.’

‘I am?’

Adrien hesitated, thinking of the best way to put it to words simple enough for a child, but close to what he had in mind. ‘When you dance, you become the music. You forget about everything and everyone. There’s a saying that I think suits you both so well.’

You’ve gotta dance like there’s nobody watching

Love like you’ll never be hurt

Sing like there’s nobody listening

And live like it’s heaven on earth

‘She did that. She lived like that. She made the world a better place. By being herself,’ Adrien quickly wiped the lonely tear that appeared in his eye. Dottie didn’t notice. She was too excited with that bit of cheap poetry.

‘And she defended the city!’ she exclaimed. ‘She fought the bad guys!’

‘That she did, sweetie,’ he nodded. ‘And she won. Like good guys always should.’

Chapter Text

‘Can you tell me what this is?’ Dottie asked pushing a delicate piece of paper into Adrien’s hands.

He carefully deposited the rag dolls on the side-table and took a closer look at the item. It was a pink paper heart, a Valentine card. The color had faded with time but he was relieved to notice the ink of the writing inside had not.

Adrien chuckled inwardly at how silly he had acted when he had received it. He had been so happy when he discovered it was a reply to his own poem to Ladybug, that he failed to question how would she see his pathetic attempt at poetry that he had thrown away. All it took was one stray red beetle with good timing and he just melted into a pile of goo, to Plagg’s utmost disgust. When the matter came up later, the little shit actually admitted that he had smelled Tikki on the card and decided to help destiny a bit. Plagg, despite carefully maintaining an opinion of a useless, lazy glutton and snark master, turned out to be quite a sap at heart. Which was one of the biggest surprises of teen Adrien’s life, though not as big as the greatest surprise of all.

‘What does it say, Grandpa?’ He felt Dottie’s elbow gently but firmly nudging him to finally reply to her questions.

Adrien cleared his throat and started reading, mindful to keep his voice neutral. He tried to ignore the persistent memories these words brought.

His voice faltered near the end as the lump in his throat got bigger with every line.

‘Did Ladybug write it?’ Dottie asked, suddenly cautious.

‘Yes,’ Adrien didn’t trust longer words to come out as more than a squeak.

‘Pretty,’ the girl declared, thankfully giving him a few moments to calm down. She gnawed at her lower lip, clearly considering something. Her gaze shifted from him to the card and back.

‘Did you love her?’ she finally asked. Ah, nothing could be hidden from a curious little kitten.

Tricky question, if Adrien ever heard one. But he didn’t hesitate when he replied wholeheartedly, ‘More than anything.’

Dottie frowned at this declaration. ‘Did she love you back?’

Adrien pondered upon the consequences his answer might have. Maybe it would be better to tell only part of the truth?

‘She did,’ he nodded stretching his lips in a small smile, ‘but not in the way I wanted her to.’ He closed his eyes, though he wasn’t sure if it was out of fear Dottie might read the truth in them, or to recall that scene from the past once again. ‘She was in love with another boy - she wrote this letter for him. I was a goofy friend to her. A dear friend, but just a friend nonetheless.

He felt warm hands on his cheeks. ‘Don’t worry, Grandpa!’ A gentle kiss landed on his nose and he chuckled. ‘I love you very, very much!’ Dottie whispered. ‘But…’

Adrien’s eyes shot open at the doubt and seriousness he heard in his granddaughter’s voice.

‘Does Nana know?’ she asked after a dramatic pause. Her eyes zeroed on his and her brow furrowed wildly. Great Grandpa Gabriel would have been so proud.

Despite her visible concern Adrien couldn’t help but to burst into laughter. It was just to much - her seriousness, his father’s face reflected in her features and the ridiculousness of the inquiry that he couldn’t explain to her.

‘Don’t worry, kitten,’ he replied, when she pouted at his antics. ‘Nana knows all right. I made sure of it. We wouldn’t be together this long if I kept such secrets away from her.’

Dottie sighed theatrically in relief and another chuckle escaped his lips. She was just adorable. The girl jumped from his lap to rummage in the box again.

Adrien was left alone for a moment, the Valentine still in his hand. His fingers brushed over the neat, familiar handwriting as he recalled a particular February 14th from a few decades away - so long ago it seemed like in a different lifetime. And in a way, it had been.

Eventually, she was.

Chapter Text

Dottie patiently studied the contents of the box, until her little hand closed over something. An end of red string dangling outside of her fist was all Adrien could see and it still made his breath hitch. He hadn’t held this keepsake for a very long time, but suddenly his hands started itching. The impulse to make a grab for it startled him.

His granddaughter climbed back onto his lap with her trophy. ‘I found a bracelet!’ she announced, as if it wasn’t obvious. ‘It’s really pretty! I like the colors.’

‘May I?’ Adrien slowly reached out and Dottie deposited her finding in his hand. His fingers closed over the beads and he sighed in relief, his urge to have it back satisfied.

‘Is it your bracelet, Grandpa?’ the girl asked.

‘My lucky charm,’ he nodded. ‘This brought me luck so many times I can’t even count them all.’

‘No wonder,’ Dottie shrugged unimpressed.

‘No wonder?’ he raised a brow in confusion.

‘If Ladybug made it, it must be very lucky,’ she shook her head in disbelief and rolled her eyes again. He really needed to stop making her do that. It brought back too many memories.

‘Can I try it out?’ she searched his eyes, pleading for permission.

‘Sure,’ Adrien reluctantly put the item around her little wrist and tied a loose knot. She inspected his work critically and then looked closer at the beads.

‘One, two, three, five, seven, ten,’ Dottie counted confidently. ‘Ten beads.’

‘You sure?’ he suppressed a snort. ‘Last time I checked there were eight,’ he suggested innocently. ‘Have they multiplied?’

She pursed her lips in determination and counted again. ‘Eight. I got distracted by that big green flower one,’ she grumbled, tracing her finger over the carving. ‘I think…’ she examined the other beads and got back to the biggest one, ‘I think this green one is my favorite,’ she decided.

‘Mine too, kitten,’ Adrien smiled at her.

‘But I don’t feel very lucky,’ she complained. ‘How does it work?’

‘Work?’ Now he was at a loss.

‘As in, how do you use it to have some luck?’

‘Oh, Dottie,’ he laughed wholeheartedly, ‘it’s just a bracelet, kitten. It’s special to me because…’

‘Ladybug made it,’ the girl sing-sang, a tad of exasperation in her voice. She looked a bit disappointed.

‘She did,’ Adrien confirmed. ‘She made gifts for all of her friends.’

Apparently Dottie had an endless supply of questions at hand. ‘Did she have many friends?’ she shot him with another inquiry.

‘A few. She got on with most people,’ he pondered. ‘But there was only a bunch of those closest to her.’

‘What was it like?’

‘Being friends with Ladybug?’ he raised a brow. ‘Pretty cool, I guess? It was…’ he thought about the answer. ‘It was like being a part of a family. For me at least. And I know her best friend was like a sister to her.’

Dottie frowned in calculation, ‘So you were her brother?’

‘Ah.. uh…,’ he choked, treacherous blush blooming on his cheeks. ‘Not really,’ the denial came out a little too squeaky for his liking. That would be very far from it, but he didn’t feel particularly keen on introducing his granddaughter to the nature of his relationship with Ladybug. ‘We were just great friends.’

‘Did she have a big family then?’ his granddaughter took no notice of his slip. ‘Or maybe not, if her friend was like a sister?’

‘She was an only child, like me,’ Adrien admitted.

‘And me!’ Dottie exclaimed pointing to herself.

‘Well, technically you’re not an only child anymore, kitten, remember? In just two months Renée is going to join you and you’ll have a baby sister,’ he reminded her. ‘I always hated being an only child. I’m glad you’re getting a sibling,’ he confessed, knowing that Dottie had mixed feelings about it and she was a bit jealous of her parents’ attention. One of the reasons of her visits at his house was to make her feel special (the other to give Melanie and Hugo a helping hand and some rest before the next member of the family appears).

‘I already have a lot of cousins,’ the girl reminded him, as if he could forget how extensive their family tree got.

‘We do have a very special family,’ he cast her a knowing smile. ‘Your great aunts Etta and Ella are mainly responsible for that.’ Who would have thought that the twins would also have twins, and not even once. And then those twins would continue this tradition. Well, exponential growth turned out to be a thing for the Cesaire family. He chuckled amused by this conclusion.

Dottie giggled. ‘You do have three children, Grandpa,’ she pointed out. ‘And six grandchildren. That’s a lot.’

‘I guess,’ he shrugged. He always knew he wanted a big family. But the reality exceeded his expectations by and large. ‘Nana says the more the merrier,’ he winked.

‘Then we must be the merriest family in Paris!’ she cackled, clutching at her stomach.

Adrien tickled her for good measure and she collapsed onto the carpet in a giggling heap.

‘So…’ Dottie said as she regained her breath, ‘Ladybug didn’t have any brothers or sisters?’

‘No, she wasn’t as lucky as you in the family department,’ he replied causing another round of giggles. ‘She did however have very loving, warm and wonderful parents, who made everyone welcomed in their home. She always came out of her way to share the love she received from them.’ Adrien’s voice trembled a bit, when yet another memory surfaced from the depths of his history. ‘She made me a part of her family,’ he whispered more to himself, than to his granddaughter, ‘even when she didn’t know me all that well.’

‘I bet she would make everyone her family if she could!’ Dottie cried, unaware of his inner quiver.

‘Hmmm,’ Adrien was grateful for the change of topic, ‘it’s an interesting way to look at it, but in a sense I think Ladybug made all Parisians her family,’ he offered. ‘She cared for them. She made a lot of sacrifices, some personal, for them. She fought for them and risked her life. Not many people would do this for total strangers.’

‘Wow, so everyone was Ladybug’s family?’

‘In a way.’ Warmth filled his heart. ‘Yes, definitely,’ he agreed. He really believed it was true. Who would do the things she had done for people they didn’t care for? Who would find the courage to face monster after monster? Who would stand in the way of danger that tried to hurt people if they didn’t mean anything to them?

‘Can I make one too?’ Another one of Dottie’s questions came out of nowhere. She rattled the bracelet on her wrist and Adrien shook off the big thoughts in favor of the little mundane things like string and beads.

‘That’s a great idea!’ He beamed at her. ‘I’ll have you know I’m an expert at making bracelets.’

‘Oh, oh, oh,’ his granddaughter cooed. ‘Please, please, let’s do this! Can I have a bead like the green flower one for my bracelet, Grandpa?’

Adrien scratched his chin. ‘Well, I have no idea where Ladybug got her beads from, so that might be difficult. But I’m sure we’ll find something green with flowers out there somewhere. Although… ‘ he glimpsed at his watch, ‘I’m afraid this will have to wait until after our walk, sweetie. And we should eat something before that.’

‘Can we hurry then?’ Dottie was close to self combust, bursting with enthusiasm. ‘I want to make my bracelet!’

‘I suppose we could take the food with us and make a picnic? What do you say?’ Adrien asked with a sly grin. He was answered with an excited screech as Dottie threw her hands around his neck and squealed her consent right into his ear.

‘A picnic it is, little Lady,’ he winked and led her to the kitchen.

Chapter Text

‘I am Ladybug and I will stop you, Carrot-man!’ Dottie cried striking a dramatic pose. ‘You won’t make anyone eat your disgusting carrots!’

‘You won’t win, Ladybug!’ Two carrot pieces wedged between Adrien’s teeth and upper lip wobbled, as he growled and clawed at her theatrically. ‘Every kid should eat carrots! They’re good for you!’

A long orange sabre with green leaved tail appeared in his hand. ‘En garde, Ladybug!’ he called out taking a well practised stance. The girl eyed him curiously and reached for her own carrot sword, mimicking his pose.

‘Pret,’ Adrien droned, his lips stretching in an amused grin.

‘Alez!’ They roared simultaneously launching at each other. Their carrots met mid-air with a quiet chunk. Leaves rained to the pavement.

He easily bypassed her outstretched arm and nudged her with his vegetable. ‘Touch!’

‘Not fair!’ Dottie pouted. ‘You have longer hands, Grandpa!’ she waved her carrot at him accusingly.

‘You have a longer carrot,’ he retorted. ‘I win.’

‘Not fair!’ she grumbled. ‘Ladybug should win. She always won!’

‘She also always ate her carrots,’ Adrien raised a brow at her. They both knew Dottie wasn’t a sore loser, she just didn’t like orange vegetables very much and him winning meant she would have to eat all of them from her lunchbox.

He made a rabbit face offering her the snack. ‘A cawwot, m’lady?’

Dottie giggled. ‘Okay,’ she scooted closer. He should have known the smile that crawled onto her angelic face brought bad news.

‘Riposte!’ she yelled into his ear as she nudged him in the ribs with her carrot sword.

‘Ow, ow, owwwww,’ Adrien moaned, feigning agony. ‘Murdered with a carrot!’ He clutched at his side and dropped onto a bench. ‘Oh, brave Ladybug, you win again!’

‘Yes!’ his granddaughter raised her fist.

‘Now eat your carrots,’ he whispered with a corner of his mouth.

‘... And this is the first of many monuments the city founded to honor the brave heroes, Ladybug and Chat Noir, as early as 2015,’ a steady voice filled the air. Another group of tourists surrounded the statue at the park. ‘The common opinion says that the sculptor, Théo Barbot, managed to capture Ladybug’s essence perfectly. The heroine liked this monument a lot better than any other. That’s why there are always fresh flowers here. Parisians often bring them as a tribute to Ladybug.’

Dottie craned her neck to see who was talking. ‘Can we go there, Grandpa? This is interesting!’ She grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction of the bronze monument.

They made their way to the statue accompanied by strong clear voice of the guide. As the tale of the rise of Hawkmoth and the appearance of the heroes unravelled, the tourists stared at the figures immortalized on the pedestal with awe. The guide recalled some of the akumatized villains, dropping names that elicited excited gasps from her audience. Jagged Stone, Gabriel Agreste, Aurore Lambert née Beauréal, Chloé Bourgeois, Alya Césaire, Nathaniel Kutzberg, Max Kante. There were many, many more, but Adrien knew, that these names were famous and meant something to people - they could cause that thrill a good story should induce.

With every familiar name Dottie shot him a questioning look and squeezed his hand, as if seeking confirmation if this was true. She had been too little to know the full story before, so probably no one, including her grandparents had shared those details with her. But he imagined that hearing her own surname, as well as the names of family friends in front of Ladybug and Chat Noir monument, could come as quite a shock. He nodded and mouthed “later”. This wasn’t the time and place for such an introduction.

The guide peppered her tale with some juicy trivia, especially if a famous name was involved. She colored, she dramatized, she hyperbolized. Some things she clearly made up, others she borrowed from reports and books. Adrien picked up whole passages from Alya’s published works. Yet he listened as fascinated as each and every other member of the crowd. The guide was clearly good at her job. She pitched her voice perfectly, an impression of a whisper, a secret shared among very few people, and she held her audience in the palm of her hand way before she got to the final battle.

‘No one knows what really happened,’ she drawled in that captivating voice. ‘There were no witnesses in the close vicinity. Thankfully, because they probably wouldn’t have made out of there alive.’

Someone in the crowd snickered. ‘If no one knows, maybe there was no final battle?’

‘Oh, believe me, there was a battle. Fireworks brighter than during Bastille Day,’ she pointed at the sky. ‘Fire so fierce it melted the asphalt off the streets. Lightnings in colors hitherto unseen,’ she painted the picture punctuating it with wide waves of her hands. ‘Roaring thunders, screams, thuds, you name it,’ the guide cast a satisfied smirk at the person who dropped the question and they nodded appreciatively.

Adrien cringed at the reminder of the last time Ladybug had been seen. From the distance of forty years it all seemed like a bad dream, only a few sharp moments carved in his memory, everything else a haze. Contrary to public knowledge there were a few witnesses, but they all were either sworn to absolute secrecy or couldn’t remember a thing due to shock and memory loss.

He glimpsed at Dottie, immovable at his side. She was hypnotised, mouth agape, eyes wide. She barely remembered to breathe. The only thing anchoring her to here and now was his hand, which she squeezed with surprising force.

‘There wasn’t a single intact window in the neighbourhood,’ the guide continued. ‘The explosion made a dent in the Eiffel Tower and destroyed each and every piece of glass within a two kilometer radius from the epicenter. Soon we’ll move onto that location,’ the woman continued, ‘and you’ll see the scorched walls. There’s one building that was kept unrepaired for people to witness the scale of the damage.’

It was all coming back to him now. All those memories, locked in a safe, forgotten place at the back of his mind suddenly started surfacing one by one. Their flawless teamwork, practised movements, perfect sync, all falling apart under the sheer force of their enemies’ assault. Every blow Chat Noir landed, every hit he received and every one he couldn’t prevent Ladybug from taking. The fear and determination to execute their plan, no matter the cost. And then the look in her infinitely blue eyes just a second before the explosion, a second that stretched to eternity, the look that would stay with him forever.

‘So did the heroes win?’ A listener clearly got impatient, eager to know the outcome of that final encounter.

‘They did. From then on the akuma attacks stopped entirely. No one ever heard any more of the supervillains named Hawkmoth and Paon. And the city could finally take a breath and go back to normalcy.’

‘And the heroes? What happened to them?’ Someone in the crowd called.

‘They died,’ another tourist interjected before the guide could pick up her tale. He waved a guidebook pointing to a page. ‘It says here, no bodies were found - neither the bad guys, nor the heroes.’

‘Yes, they most certainly died,’ the tour guide confirmed, lowering her voice dramatically. ‘They sacrificed themselves to defeat their enemies. No one could possibly come alive out of that inferno. And Ladybug never released her curing spell. No ladybugs to clean up the mess at that time.’

Dottie squeaked and covered her ears. Adrien crouched and hugged her. The girl was shaking and sobbing. He narrowed his eyes at the woman leading the tourists. She really should have known better. But dramatics sold and this was probably the reason why still, after forty years, there was a constant influx of sightseers interested in Ladybug and Chat Noir. Could he really blame Parisians for using this occasion to make a living?

He heard footsteps and when he looked up he saw that the tour guide noticed Dottie’s distress and came to them. She cast him an apologetic look and put a hand on Dottie’s shoulder prompting the girl to withdraw from the hug. The woman smiled gently at his granddaughter and continued in a softer and comforting tone.

‘But the legend says that they still look after Paris,’ she was talking loud enough for the group to hear, but she was addressing Dottie. ‘And some people say they see them sometimes, running over rooftops and laughing.’ She gestured to the roofs and the nearby tower.

Now Dottie’s green eyes were as big as saucers, still glistening with spilled tears, as she drank every word from the guide’s lips.

‘Two good ghosts of the city, hand in hand,’ the woman’s smile grew wider, a twinkle of passion in her eyes that sparkled hope in Dottie’s. ‘Patrolling together, just like in the old times. Guarding us from whatever evil might come.’

Chapter Text

The encounter at the park shook Adrien to his roots. There was probably a sleepless night ahead of him, but he was grateful for Dottie’s presence - a welcomed distraction from reliving that nightmare. Her warm hand firmly gripping his felt more real than anything in the world, reminding him of all the reasons they had fought for. Of the future that came and was brighter and more beautiful than he could dream of.

‘Can we go to the bakery?’ Dottie asked as they were collecting their things and preparing to leave. ‘I want to say hello to Maman and Papa.’

Bakery sounded good, great even. Bakery smelled like home should have. Bakery was definitely something he could use right now, even if he knew he wouldn’t find her there.

‘Sure, kitten,’ he keenly agreed.

‘A ride?’ Dottie asked hopefully, fluttering her lashes.

‘Aren’t you getting too big for that?’ he laughed but easily sat her on his shoulders. He might have had six decades behind him, but there was enough of Chat Noir’s strength left in his limbs to carry his own granddaughter like that. She wrapped her hands around his forehead and they set off in the direction of Rue Gotlib.

‘Duck,’ Adrien commanded, hunching a bit and Dottie lowered her head as he carried her on his shoulders over the patisserie’s threshold.

‘Nana!’ the girl cried at the top of her lungs and all but jumped to the ground. He prepared for a scream of pain. He was almost two meters tall after all. But Dottie bounced gracefully and made a beeline for the woman at the counter. When they entered, she was chatting with Hugo, who manned the shop today, but as soon as she heard Dottie’s cry, she turned and flashed them a surprised but beamy smile.

A smile that shot him right in his heart and weakened his legs.

Maybe it was because of the little sentimental journey he had taken earlier with Dottie. Maybe the guide and her miraculous tale of Ladybug and Chat Noir were to blame. Maybe he was a bit tired. And maybe it was all of this. But when Marinette smiled at him from the counter, Adrien felt as if he saw her for the very first time. He could have sworn he felt her crashing into him and tangling them with her yoyo string.

His Lady Luck was here, when he so desperately needed the reassurance that she was real, that she was alive, that they’d made it.

He hadn’t seen her in just a few hours, yet the sight took his breath away. How she held herself with dignity and confidence, that surpassed the experience of fulfilled, mature womanhood, and let the heroine underneath shine through. How her hair slipped from the bun she tied on the top of her head, mostly silver strands with shots of midnight blue here and there, bringing the starry night sky to mind. How her cheeks covered with a fresh coat of blush and pink lips parted in a silent gasp. How her blue eyes, enveloped in dark veil of lashes, bore into him. He got lost in them so many times and he still didn’t have enough of them. A new Gabriel creation tenderly hugged her magnificent figure, bringing out all of her assets and cunningly hiding everything she didn’t want to show.

Adrien would be the first to admit that he was absolutely smitten, had been for over forty years and never minded. His wife was a gorgeous, stunning, mighty woman, a masterpiece, that would make Van Gogh, Renoir and Degas bite their brushes in half and give up painting forever.

She was all he ever needed, and in return for his love and adoration she had given him the world, home, family and inexhaustible happiness. She had helped him to find himself, never judging, never doubting, showering him with affection and acceptance he craved so much.

As joy, relief, love and exhaustion fought for dominance over his heart Adrien stumbled in his step towards the counter; just for a split of a second, but that was enough for Marinette to frown in worry. One look was all it took her to see right through him.

She was already coming to him, prompting Dottie to move with her, as the girl clung to her dress. ’Kitty?’ her voice was soft, but laced with concern. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Everything is fine, love,’ he uttered, a bit too fast for it to be believable.

Marinette’s questioning stare left no doubt that she didn’t buy it. ‘Hugo, why don’t you pack Dottie and Papa some of those fresh rolls, hmm?’ she asked, never taking her eyes off Adrien. ‘I’m sure she’d love to help you choose. She knows which ones we like.’

‘Sure thing, Mom,’ their son replied, knowing exactly what she meant. ‘Come on, sweetie, let’s pack you something for the afternoon snack,’ he extended his hand. Dottie squeezed her Nana one more time and ran to her father, a wide smile on her face. Soon she started babbling excitedly about their visit to the park.

As soon as their granddaughter was out of earshot, Marinette started her friendly interrogation. ‘Is it your blood pressure again? Did you eat anything today? Is Dottie too tiring? Maybe I should cancel on Alya and come home early?’

She shot him question after question until he laughed wholeheartedly and pulled her in for a hug. ‘I’m okay, bug,’ he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, taking a deep breath full of her enchanting scent. ‘I promise. Things just got a little bit too emotional and overwhelming at the park.’

Marinette withdrew from his embrace to look him in the eyes. ‘At the park? I don’t think I follow.’

‘I’ll explain it in the evening,’ Adrien assured her, ‘but I’m purrfectly fine now that you’re here, my Lady. Cat’s honor,’ he promised with right hand on his heart.

She giggled lightly and hugged him again. Everything was nicely warm and soft with her in his arms, but good things never last as long as they should.

‘Is this a spontaneous Agreste reunion at my bakery?’ A deep voice boomed over the shop. Tom Dupain was standing in the back door with a steaming tray of buns in his huge hands.  ‘Give me a hand, Hugo, will ya?’

Even at 93 he still was an impressive man. His bulky form shrunk only a bit with time and just as before he could easily loom over most people. His silver hair had thinned, but he still sported his trademark mustache. Age didn’t take away his skills nor energy, the years his body had accumulated only slowed him down a bit. 

‘Technically it is an Agreste bakery,’ Hugo admonished lightly, taking the tray from his grandfather’s hands, ‘at least since someone retired and left all this mess to me.’

‘Dottie, you’re here already?!’ Tom exclaimed when he saw her peeking from behind the counter. ‘I thought you were at the mansion today?’

‘Nah, Great Grandpa, we’ve come to say hi and take some rolls, and will be going back,’ Dottie smiled sweetly.

‘Hi, Tom!’ Adrien waved at his father-in-law.

‘Hi, Papa!’ Marinette followed suit.

‘Hello to you too,’ the old man replied. ‘Am I interrupting something?’ he asked with a sly grin that earned him a snort from Adrien and an eye roll from Marinette. ‘Just kidding, take your time, I’ll keep this mademoiselle company,’ he waved at them and turned to Dottie. ‘Go ahead, Hugo, take a break and check on Melanie. I’ll take care of the shop for a while,’ he added, putting a hand on his grandson’s shoulder.

Hugo nodded. He crouched in front of Dottie. ‘See you in the evening, sweetie,’ he tickled Dottie under her chin, earning a chuckle, ‘Have fun at Grandpa Adrien’s and be nice, okay?’

‘I promise, Papa,’ she replied earnestly. ‘Hug Maman and Renée from me,’ she called as he was already at the door.

‘Wait for us!’ Marinette rushed past the counter. ‘We’ll come for a minute to say hi. Come on, hon,’ she prompted Adrien to join her.

‘Tom, would you-’ the older Agreste gestured to Dottie and the half packed bag of rolls.

‘I’ve got this,’ his father-in-law man winked at him. ‘Go say hello to the girls.’

‘So, what are you up to this afternoon, cupcake?’ Tom asked as he was finally left alone with his great granddaughter.

Dottie’s eyes lit up as she remembered their plans for the rest of the day. ‘Grandpa Adrien is going to teach me how to make lucky bracelets!’

‘Really?’ her great grandfather sat her on the countertop, ‘I’m sure you’ll have a lot of fun, cupcake! Maybe you could do one for your future beau?’ he winked at her curling up his mustaches. ‘Your Nana gave her lucky charm to your Grandpa when they were fourteen and look at them now.’

Dottie would have fallen down from the counter if Tom wasn’t there to still her. ‘Do you remember how that bracelet looked, Great Grandpa?’ her voice trembled as the old man gave her a puzzled look.

‘Oh, cupcake, it was more than 40 years ago!’ he chuckled. ‘There’s plenty more important things I’ve forgotten since then.’

‘Please, Great Grandpa,’ Dottie went straight for kitten eyes, ‘you really don’t remember?’

‘Well, let me think,’ he hesitated under the force of the emerald gaze. ‘I’m sure there was a red string involved, because as far as I know it’s mandatory for lucky charm bracelets. And there must have been…’ his forehead wrinkled with the effort, ‘a few beads, but I honestly don’t remember them at all.’

The girl pouted in disappointment.

‘Oh, I remember the large one!’ Tom slapped his huge hands onto his thighs. ‘It was kinda green, a rectangle I think, with a sort of flower engraved on it? I’m not sure though,’ he faltered. ‘Why do you even ask?’

Dottie positively beamed at him, her chest so swelled with happiness it was a miracle she didn’t hover over the counter. ‘I just wanted to know what worked for Nana and Grandpa,’ a sly grin split her face in half. ‘In case I want to make one for my future beau, you know.’

Chapter Text

Chat Noir lightly stomped over the tiles of Parisian rooftops as he sneaked his way between the chimneys and gutters in the fading light of dusk. In his black suit he was nothing more than a shadow, hidden from curious eyes, as stealthy as a ghost. The fat, obnoxious pigeons were the only witnesses of his stroll, and they surely wouldn’t coo to a soul.

The last part of open space was a bit tricky, but with proficiency that comes with years of experience he vaulted himself over the iron grating and onto the balcony, to the safety of overgrown hortensia shrubs that had wrapped the whole gazebo in a greeny-white blanket. In the last few decades they’d been living there Marinette worked miracles with the little space between the walls of the fence and the mansion. She transformed a place that he used to think of as his prison into their green haven, a garden of Eden blooming secretly in the heart of Paris.

Chat drummed his clawed fingers over the glass door. Marinette’s alert face appeared on the other side. She gasped and pulled him inside.

‘Does this have anything to do with things going emotional at the park earlier?’ she asked going back to her armchair and the abandoned sketchbook. ‘I thought after taking Dottie home, you’d go back the usual way.’

He hummed noncommittally in reply, sauntering in her direction. His tail winded languidly behind his back and his electric green eyes danced over her hunched figure.

‘Dottie found my keepsake box today,’ he murmured taking her hand away from the sketchbook and placing a customary, but tender kiss over her knuckles; a habit he hadn’t abandoned even after they got together. ‘There may be questions.’

Marinette smiled at him, amused by his antics. ‘Thanks for the heads-up, Kitty. Oh!’ she released a startled squeak when he pulled her to her feet. The sketchbook dropped to the floor with a thud.

Chat Noir ducked his head and nuzzled her neck. ‘Wife of mine, you smell divine,’ he purred into her ear and started trailing kisses over the column of her throat and her shoulder.

‘Good to hear your - ah - poetry got better, darling,’ Marinette leaned into him, her hand slipping into his hair and rubbing circles between his real and false ears.

‘That’s not the only thing I got better at,’ he murmured against her skin, reveling in the blissful pleasure of her caress. A few decades of enthusiastic experimenting and he knew exactly what to do in return to make her melt into his touch. He pulled the pin from her bun, and a silvery-blue veil spilled over her shoulders. Chat pulled her flush against his chest. His clawed hands roamed at her sides. Marinette closed her eyes and hummed appreciatively. Those sounds stirred something within him. Something that took over and initiated a well known and well used script.

One of his arms snaked its way around her waist, the other cradled her head and in one well practised motion he dipped her for a kiss.

He loved to kiss her as Chat, when his senses were enhanced. In the dim light of their bedroom the night vision allowed him to count every freckle on her cheeks. Her heartbeat drummed in both pairs of his ears. Her perfume mixing with her own scent was driving his senses crazy. Their lips moved in a familiar routine, softly, tenderly brushing against each other, teasing and tantalizing. It was magical, how much they could convey in this simple contact. The easy comfort between them that came from shared years. The tranquility built on trust and love. And the hint of passion simmering underneath, just waiting for the right moment.

The lid on that kettle was already quivering when Chat’s tail wrapped itself around Marinette’s ankle and the kiss turned into something a tad more heated. He ran his claws through her hair and a craving filled him, a desire to touch it without the gloves covering his hands, a need to feel her body heat without the restraints of his suit. Adrien almost gave in to that temptation, but he pushed back all the ideas that popped to his mind, putting them away for later use. He had other plans for now.

‘Why are you transformed?’ Marinette whispered, a bit breathlessly, when they broke for air. A delicious coat of blush adorned her cheeks.

‘I got extremely sentimental today,’ Chat admitted going back to nuzzling the nape of her neck. Her scent was mesmerizing, intoxicating, distracting. Once again he almost lost himself in her. ‘Hmmm?’ he rasped realizing she said something.

Marinette pushed his head away. ‘You already told me that, Kitty. Stop it,’ she chided when he tried to resume his caress, ‘or you’ll never actually explain anything to me.’

He pouted and blinked at her. ‘And I was hoping to talk you into a little… chase?’ he ventured nodding invitingly to the balcony.

Her lips stretched in a calculated smirk. ‘Let me just fix my hair. You wake up Tikki and we can go.’

Soon they were leaving the balcony again.

‘How would you feel if we went past a certain window?’ Chat asked as they leaped to the nearest roof.

Ladybug cast him a puzzled look. ‘What window do you have in mind?’

‘12 Rue Gotlib?’ he supplied innocently. ‘I have a hunch there might be a little girl plastered to the glass tonight, looking for the legendary Paris heroes as they run in the moonlight.’

‘What have you done, Kitty?’ Her laughter filled the night.

‘Tell you if you catch me, my Lady,’ he called, increasing the pace and taking the lead in their run.

She caught up with him at the Trocadéro before he could reach their favorite spot at the top of Palais de Chaillot. They took a rest there, required by their 60 year old bodies despite the magical suits. Hidden in the darkness they watched the lights of the city, their city, flickering in the night mist. 

‘I’m glad we went out tonight,’ Ladybug scooted closer to Chat. His tail flicked behind him for a few moments. After a while it lashed out and wrapped around the heroine’s waist eliciting a giggle from her pink lips. ‘Thank you for the idea. It’s been too long since our last run,’ she flicked his bell and it rang joyfully over the roof.

‘The pleasure is all mine, bug,’ he put an arm around her and started playing absentmindedly with her pigtails.

They sat, admiring the view, lost in their own thoughts. Chat couldn’t stop himself from casting side glances at her, immovable at his side. Her eyes were trained on the horizon and filled with hundreds of stars. The lights of Paris played a trick on him, he knew, but her sapphires gleamed in the night like the most precious gems he’d ever seen. The rosy hue blooming on her cheeks due to their race added a nice shade to the red of her mask. When she flew over the Parisian landscape only the silvering pigtails revealed her age. Every time they went out like that she reverently put her locks into the trademark hairdo, just in case they were spotted. He loved this woman beyond words and years. Sometimes it scared him how strong and deep his feelings went.

Comfortable silence stretched between them until Ladybug broke it with a sigh. ‘Do you think it was a right choice, Kitty?’ she asked, gently pulling her hair out of his claws.

‘Which one?’

She turned to look at him and he saw the seriousness in her eyes when she replied, ‘To pretend that we died?’

‘I’ve always believed in life after death,’ he quipped in vain attempt to lighten the mood.

‘You know what I mean though,’ Ladybug gestured to the crippled form of the Eiffel Tower in the distance. The beams around the dent were purposefully lit with red spotlights.

Chat pondered over her query. The events of the day prompted him to think over their whole vigilante career even earlier. When his nerves were calmed thanks to their unexpected meeting in the bakery, instead of recalling the battle, he started reminiscing on what came afterwards. The capture of Hawkmoth and Paon. Taking away their miraculouses. Altering their memories with the invaluable help of Master Fu. Getting rid of the butterflies and dismantling the lair. Going back to normal, for a given amount of normal. Trying to live their lives as if nothing had happened. It had been difficult, especially dealing with his father and Nathalie, at least until she quit her job. And without Marinette’s unwavering presence and support it would have been impossible.

But even if time hadn’t healed all wounds, it certainly made them bearable. Adrien was able to reconnect with his father. The birth of Emma, Louis and Hugo made Gabriel focus more on present than the past and he finally came back from his inner exile. They managed to salvage their bond before the older Agreste passed away a few years later. Maybe it wasn’t fair, that the former Hawkmoth escaped justice, but Adrien figured that partial amnesia and the permanent injuries, a memento of the final battle, could be considered enough of a punishment. He liked to think of this as the heroes’ prerogative of mercy, one that him and Ladybug earned through years of their service. In return as the heir of the Agreste fortune he made sure a fair share of Gabriel’s revenue went to charity. And that was only a part of the equation, concerning him and his father. There were more reasons to believe their decision was justified.

‘I think it was a right choice, Bug,’ Chat finally replied. ‘Otherwise there would always be a matter to attend to, a fan to greet, a madman to stop.’

Ladybug didn’t reply, but she gnawed at her lower lip, a clear indication this was still eating her.

‘We’ve talked about this a hundred times and it still bugs you?’ he jested earning a playful shove from her. ‘It’s better,’ he assured her, this time in a more serious tone. ‘Our kids were safe. You were safe. Besides, don’t tell me you wouldn’t jump right back in if our powers would be required again.’

‘Of course I would,’ she spluttered.

‘And I would too. But our services thankfully aren’t needed,’ he pulled her closer and squeezed her arms. ‘You gave birth to three wonderful catbugs. You continued my father’s legacy and made it into a model CSR company. We had the time. Tikki and Plagg had the time. We’re happy and they are too.’

‘Okay, okay, I get it,’ she raised her hands in surrender. ‘But it doesn’t mean I don’t wonder what if. Sometimes.’

‘As I do,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s all said and done. It’s history and it’s better that it stays this way.’

Ladybug smiled at him. ‘I’m so lucky I have you, Chaton,’ she ruffled his hair and landed a squelchy smooch on his cheek. ‘Take me home, please.’

He could argue that it was his luck to have her, but he only said, ‘Your wish is my command, my Lady.’ He offered her a hand. ‘Home sounds purrfect.’

As they broke into run again, he couldn’t stop thinking that home was never a place for him, but always a person. The person fleeing over the rooftops ahead of him in a red dash.

They ran past the bakery, making sure to stay in sight long enough and then disappeared among the chimneys, giggling like the pair of teens they had been forty five years ago. And on 12 Rue Gotlib a small girl smiled to herself as she made her way to her bed.

‘Goodnight Grandpa, goodnight Nana,’ Dottie whispered, cuddling her cat plushie. ‘Your secret is safe with me.’

- THE END -