Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The swooping motion of Alya’s pen against her notebook lulls Marinette into a state of suspension. Despite it being only the second day of the school year, she knows she should at least pay attention to some of what Ms. Bustier is saying, but another late night battle has her eyes drooping. 

“Woh, there’s an akuma at my aunt’s ècole maternelle,” Max exclaims from the other side of the room. 

Ms. Bustier looks over at Max and the phone he’s trying to hide in his lap just underneath the desk. 

“Max, you know the school’s policy on cell phones in class.”

Max quickly stows the device away in his backpack, but his eyes stay trained on the smart watch on his wrist. 

“Isn’t your aunt’s ècole maternelle like a block from here?” Nino asks, perking up from his chair. 

His head, no longer resting in the palms of his hands, has turned towards the window where he preens to see anything outside. 

“I don’t see anything from here,” Alix says, now standing from her chair to look out the window next to her. 

“Okay, okay,” Ms. Bustier says trying to settle the class. “If any danger comes near we will head towards the center of the lycée, but for now, please stay seated. Let’s leave the akuma for the super heroes.”

“But,” Max cuts in, “It’s akumatized one of the—” He trails off when he sees Ms. Bustier’s stern eyes land on him. 

There’s a pause before Marinette stands from her seat. 

“I actually just need to use the bathroom,” Marinette says behind a weak smile. 

“Me too,” Adrien adds, standing up in front of her. 

Ms. Bustier takes a deep breath before she nods for them to leave. 

Once Marinette it outside the classroom, she hurries towards the Girls bathroom, taking only a second to note Adrien running in the opposite direction of the Boys. 

“Tikki, spots on,” she whispers once inside a stall. In a flash of light, her red and black polka dotted suit replaces her civilian clothes and she bursts out of the stall, swinging her yo-yo towards the window to slide out of the building unnoticed. 

“So you heard about the akuma too?” A voice purrs beside her once she’s reached the street. 

“Yes… I heard someone’s been akumatized inside that building there.” 

She points towards a white one-story building with a gated playground area outside. 

“Me too,” Chat Noir replies, a hint of confusion in his voice. “Wait, how’d you find out?”
“I… Um….”

Chait Noir slows to a jog as he watches Ladybug fumble for an answer. Just as he’s about to reach out to lay a hand on her shoulder, she grabs his hand in hers and jerks his body forwards to quicken their pace. 

Within seconds they’re standing outside of the ècole maternelle with not a clue where to go. 

“I thought you said there was an akuma victim here?” Chat questions. 

“Me?” Ladybug retorts incredulously. She drops Chat Noir’s hand and looks around.

“Well I don’t hear anything, so where is it?”

They shrug, almost in unison, before approaching the front entrance. Still no screams, no broken windows, nothing. 

“Ladybug. Chat Noir.” A lady wearing a mismatched skirt and blazer opens the front door. Her eyes flit between the two heroes. “Good. Come with me.” 

She grabs Ladybug by the hand and motions them into the school. Inside the front hall it’s quiet. Light from inside the adjoining classrooms leaks under the doors. 

“Follow me,” she says, flustered. 

Chat Noir and Ladybug exchange worried glances before the lady comes to a stop and ushers them into one of the classrooms. Once inside, Ladybug scans the room noting the letters of the alphabet along the back wall and children’s drawings underneath the windows. 

“One of those black and purple butterflies was flying around my classroom. I thought I recognized it, so I went to my phone to call someone. That’s when I looked up to see Jack, one of my students, had suddenly shrunk himself into well…That.” 

She points across the room to where a group of students are huddled around a battleship play set. An action figure in all black is running across the miniature ship shooting the inanimate soldiers scattered about the play set. 

“Well that’s not what I expected,” Chat Noir says, laughing to himself. 

Ladybug elbows him in the side, before kneeling down to get a better look. 

“Has he caused anyone harm?” Ladybug turns back to the teacher and asks. 

The lady shakes her head no. She looks across from her where Chat Noir has sat down, cross legged, and is watching the miniature boy run around like he’s a cute kitten chasing a toy.

“You’re sure he’s been akumatized?” Chat Noir asks. 

“And just how would a regular sized boy make himself small if he wasn’t?” Ladybug interjects. 

Chat Noir shrugs. 

“Can you get him back to normal?” The lady asks, peering over Ladybug’s shoulder. 

“Of course,” Ladybug assures her, standing up to place a hand on the lady’s shoulder. “We just need to figure out where the akuma is,” she ponders to herself. 

“Look, My Lady,” Chat Noir pipes in, “I’m great with kids and all, but something tells me my cataclysm will probably do more harm than good right now.”

Ladybug nods, absentmindedly, still deep in thought. Without much warning, she throws her hand up in the air and summons her lucky charm. A small pair of black and red tweezers drops down into her hand. 

“I hate to tell you this, Ladybug, but I don’t know if you can get much eyebrow plucking done with that mask covering your face.” 

Ladybug shushes Chair Noir as she scans the room for something…something…

“Those! I need those.” Ladybug points at the reading glasses on top of the teacher’s desk. 

“Sure, of course,” the lady answers, retrieving the glasses for her. 

Ladybug crouches down once more and holds the glasses in one hand at a distance from her face. Through the lens she’s able to see more details of the miniature boy’s costume. There are flecks of silver in the jacket and the toy gun he’s using flashes every time he knocks over another toy soldier. 

“The akuma is in the gun,” Ladybug informs them, still laser focused on the victim in front of her. 

Chat squints, but doesn’t notice anything particularly significant about it. 

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

“Absolutely,” Ladybug replies. 

She reaches for the tweezers at her side and leans in closer. While the miniature boy stops behind a plastic wall covered in stickers on the upper deck of the battleship, she plucks the toy gun from his hands.  

“Hey that’s mine,” a small voice calls below her. 

In one sweeping motion with his hand, the child sizes up until he’s eye to eye with the crouching Ladybug. 

“I am sorry, garçon.” Ladybug smiles wistfully at the boy. “I’m sure we can find something to replace it.”

Ladybug sets the tweezers down on the windowsill beside her before grinding the gun between her index finger and thumb. An akuma escapes from within, flapping higher into the classroom. 

“Time to free you from evil,” Ladybug says, before slinging her yo-yo to retrieve the creature. 

Like magic, a glowing light pulses from within her yo-yo before the de-evilized butterfly escapes out the window. 

“Bye bye little—”

Ladybug doesn’t get the chance to finish her line when the sound of a desk crashing against the wall of the classroom breaks her reverie. 

“Ladybug!” 

She hears Chat Noir’s voice calling out from behind her. 

“We have to go,” he shouts again. “There’s another akuma!”
She’s obviously not moving fast enough for his liking, because in an instant Chat has his arm wrapped underneath hers and is hoisting them out of the broken window with his baton. 

Once outside, the light is blinding. Ladybug sees the next akumatized victim easily as a path of destruction leads up to the woman whose mismatched clothes have been replaced by a collage of fabrics over her skin tight costume. 

“Oh Mark!” the lady sings, hovering towards the center of the city. A large fan attached to her suit keeps her suspended off the ground. “Am I boring now? Do you want to break up with me now?”Ladybug and Chat Noir exchange a wide eyed glance before taking off down the street towards the woman. Another fan, attached to her arm, blows everything near her away. Cars roll down the street and people cling onto the sides of buildings in an attempt to stay grounded. 

“If you can distract her, maybe I can get close enough to destroy that giant fan on her arm,” Chat says. 

“Do you think the akuma is in the fan?” Ladybug asks. “Did you happen to see what happened back there?”Chat shakes his head. 

“One second you were talking to that boy, reassuring him you’d find a replacement for his toy, and the next, the teacher had transformed into that,” he says, shaking his head at the monster before them. “I didn’t even know there could be two akumas at the same time.” 

“Me either,” Ladybug replies quietly to herself. 

Just then, she hears her Miraculous produce a single beep from her ear. 

“My lucky charm… I’ve already used it.” 

Ladybug grabs Chat Noir by the wrist and diverts their run towards an alleyway.  

“I need time to fuel up,” she tells him. “I need to have my lucky charm available, just in case.”Chat nods, completely focused on the heroine before him. 

“Whatever you need, I’ll do it,” he tells her. 

“I need you to follow her and distract her so she doesn’t get too far away.”
“No problem,” Chat replies with a smile. 

He runs out of the alley as Ladybug whispers for her kwami to de-transform her. 

“Tikki,” Marinette breathes with a huff. 

The kwami yawns as she glides down to Marinette’s shoulder. 

“I need to transform again,” Marinette tells her, handing her a small macaron. 

“Were you not able to capture the akuma?” Tikki asks, worried. 

Marinette shakes her head no as her kwami bites into the sweet. 
“There’s a second one!” 

If Tikki is shocked, she doesn’t show it. 

“Oh,” Tikki simply replies. “How different.”“Yeah!” Marinette almost shouts. 

The kwami finishes another couple of bites before she is ready to go again. 

“Tikki, spots on!”

Just five blocks away from where Marinette had left Chat, the black cat and the oddly dressed woman are fighting. Chat continues to run circles around her as she tries to blow fire hydrants, cars, and mailboxes towards him. Chat stops for a moment and a smile spreads onto his face as he sees Ladybug swinging towards them.“Ladybug,” the woman drawls turning to face her. “I’d say your Miraculous could make an excellent addition to my outfit, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think they’re quite your style,” Ladybug quips back. 

She can see Chat out of the corner of her eye as his clawed hand reaches into the air. 

“Cataclysm!” he mouths, although the sound is inaudible from her distance. 

He winks at Ladybug before vaulting towards the akumatized woman with his claws of destruction high in the air. Before he can make contact with the giant fan, the woman spins around and uproots a lamppost, heaving it towards him. His claws make contact and the metal pole disintegrates before them. 

The woman lets out a cackled laugh, before lunging at Chat Noir once more. 

“No!” Ladybug winces.

She comes skidding to a halt and once again calls upon her lucky charm. This time, a deflated balloon lands in her hands. 

“A balloon?” she asks outwardly. “It’s not even blown up…Wait! Blown up. That’s it.”

As Chat continues to battle the akumatized woman, Ladybug yo-yos up to a perch on the side of a building close by. She yanks the extension of an exhaust pipe from the building beside her and attaches the balloon to the narrowed end. She has one shot at this and she cannot miss. 

“I’ve got this,” she whispers to herself. 

With one massive leap, she hurdles down from the sky towards the woman with the balloon contraption in one hand and her yo-yo in the other. Apparently the woman isn’t aware that Ladybugs can fly, because as the heroine falls towards her with no indication of stopping, she screams. 

“Gotcha,” Ladybug says confidently, but also relieved as she swings away at the last second after wedging the wider end of the exhaust pipe over the woman’s fan. 

The woman glares at Ladybug and tries to attack, but only the balloon attached to her expands. Despite her attempts being futile, the woman keeps blowing the fan faster and faster until the balloon attached swells big enough that it begins to lift her higher in the air. 

“I’ll be taking that,” Chat Noir says from the top of a building as she’s floats up to his height. 

With little control over her situation, Chat easily pulls the fan from the woman’s arm and safely lowers her to the roof beside him. In a moment Ladybug has swung her way up to him, a smile of appreciation over her face. 

“Will you do the honor?” Chat asks with a wink, extending the fan. 

“Of course, Chaton.”

With a few swift motions, she crushes the object under her foot, before using her yo-yo to de-evilize the akuma. 

“Miraculous Ladybug!” she shouts, throwing the balloon into the air. 

In a swirl of black and red, the ècole maternelle is repaired, the cars and other street debris are placed back where they belong, and the exhaust pipe Ladybug had used to capture the akumatized fan is reaffixed to the building. 

“What happened?” the lady asks, kneeling on the roof. 

She’s back in her civilian clothes with a hand to her head. 

“Everything is okay.” Chat comforts her with a hand on the woman’s shoulder. 

As if on cue, Chat Noir and Ladybug’s Miraculous’ produce two beeps. Ladybug bites her lip as she assess the situation. 

“It’s okay, My Lady,” Chat says. “I’ll get her to safety.”

Ladybug releases a sigh and shoots him a small smile. 

“Thank you, Chat,” she replies. 

He does a little bow. 

“You’re purrflectly welcome.”

Ladybug can’t help but roll her eyes. She should’ve expected the pun, but it honestly doesn’t bother her.

Back at school, Marinette sneaks in as the rest of the class has made their way back to Ms. Bustier’s classroom.

“That was insane,” Nino tells Alya as he stands in front of her desk.

A few others join him as they discuss the latest attack. 

“What’s wrong?” Marinette chimes in, trying to act casual. 

Alya has a pout on her face as she looks down at her phone. 

“My phone died and I wasn’t able to get any good shots,” she complains. 

“I thought they were in trouble when Chat Noir missed and hit that lamppost,” Max says, cutting through Alya’s moping. 

“I know, but how cute was that akuma outfit,” Rose says, giggling. 

Marinette sees an arm clad in a white rolled up button-up lean against the desk. 

“He was pretty cute,” the voice says with a slight pant. 

Marinette turns to see Adrien smiling across at the others. 

“He?” Rose tries to ask. 

“It’s so much easier to root for Ladybug and Chat Noir when they were going up against an adult as opposed to that cute kid,” he adds. 

“Kid?” Rose asks, confused. 

They’re interrupted and told to return to their seats as Ms. Bustier tries to return to their current lesson. Everyone has opened their books back up, but Marinette continues to sit there perplexed. 

After just a few minutes, Ms. Bustier hands out the homework for the class and apologizes for not getting any farther in the lesson. 

“Please read up through chapter 3,” she says, glancing sideways at the clock. “Since we didn’t get very far, I will not require the homework to be turned in until next week.”

The whole class sighs. Marinette can hear Alya murmur yes, beside her, but she’s not sure what for. 

“I was about to have a full on freak out for a second there,” Alya tells Marinette. 

“Huh?” she replies. 

“The homework, Marinette. It’s not due till next week,” she informs her friend with pursed lips. “Were you even listening?”Marinette shakes her head no, but her thoughts are elsewhere. 

The sound of scraping chairs and backpacks rustling against the floor alerts Marinette that they’re being released for their next class. She looks above the heads filing out of the classroom and spots the ruffled blonde near the back. 

“Marinette?” Alya questions beside her, but she’s already standing, eyes following Adrien as he passes under the doorway. 

“Adrien,” she stops him in the hall, reaching out to hold onto his shoulder. 

He notices the light touch just above his bicep and perks up. 

“Hey Marinette,” he replies, brushing his hand against the back of his neck. “Crazy attack, right?”

She’s too engulfed in her own thoughts to answer him or realize that her hand is still on his shoulder. 

“What did you mean back there when you said it’s much easier to root for Ladybug and Chat Noir when they’re going up against an adult?” 

Adrien seems puzzled at first, before his smile returns. 

“Just that it seemed like an awkward position for Ladybug and Chat Noir to have to go up against that kid,” he replies. 

“Mmm,” Marinette nods. 

On the outside her expression says, understood. On the inside however, red alarms are going off as she mentally dresses Adrien in Chat Noir’s costume. It could work. It could totally work. It was totally working. 

“Okay, that’s all I needed,” she continues with a squeak. 

“Okay,” Adrien says, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. 

Marinette removes her hand from his other shoulder and both suddenly realize its been there for far longer than necessary. 

“Well, I should—” Adrien starts. 

“Yep! Same,” Marinette cuts in. 

She turns back the other direction, headed for the Girls bathroom, and takes off in a run once he’s out of earshot. 

“Tikki!” she yells in a hushed tone once inside a stall again.

Her kwami yawns from inside her bag. 

“Another akuma?” she asks. 

Marinette shakes her head no. Her eyes have been welling up and she feels her voice shaking. 

“I didn’t mean to find out,” she tells Tikki, trying to steady her breathing. 

“Find out what?” Tikki asks, suddenly alert. 

“He said kid and no one else knew about the kid. Heck, everyone thought it was just one,” Marinette says, throwing her arms in the air with a bellowing sigh. “It has to be him. There’s no other explanation. It all lines up. It all makes sense.”

Tikki flies out of Marinette’s bag and lands softly in her lap. 

“Marinette, did you find out Chat Noir’s secret identity?”

The teenager just nods her head. 

A pause.

“I’m like 98% sure, Tikki.”

The kwami nods as if she’d been expecting this.

“Adrien, my unrequited crush and supermodel friend Adrien, is Chat Noir.” 

Chapter Text

“What am I going to do?” Marinette asks Tikki that night as she sits cross-legged on her bed. “What can I do?” This question isn’t directed at anyone. 

Tikki swirls around her head before landing on the bedpost ahead of her. She’s smiling across at her master, trying to reassure her that all has not gone wrong. 

“Tikki.” A pause. “Can I still be Ladybug?”

Tikki lets out a small giggle. 

“Of course you can Marinette.”

The reassurance doesn’t seem to quell all of the girl’s fears. 

“But we’re not supposed to share who we are.”

Tikki shakes her head with a sigh. 

“Look.” She hovers down to Marinette’s lap so she cannot avoid eye contact any longer. 

The girl’s gaze lifts for a moment, noticing the soft weight of her kwami against her knee. 

“We don’t encourage revealing your identity at such a young age, but some things are inevitable.”

“So I’m not the only one whose figured it out before?” 

There’s a loose thread on the right cuff of Marinette’s pants. She pulls at it before smoothing it back down against the seam. 

“I’m not supposed to speak of my past masters,” she begins with trepidation. “But I think I feel comfortable in sharing that yes, many Ladybugs before you have shared their identities. Maybe not at 16, but they did eventually—especially considering they were part of a pair. “

“Chat,” Marinette breathes out. 

Tikki nods. 

“Then why was it so crucial for us to keep it a secret. Why did you and Master Fu insist on it so frequently?”“Like I said,” Tikki replies. “You both are so young. So impressionable. Not to mention your abilities have not matured.”
The small hope she’d had before—that maybe she hadn’t fucked up as much as she’d thought, vanishes. 

“I’ve really messed this all up, haven’t I?” Marinette asks, defeated.She’s not crying, but the deep breaths and thick swallows tells Tikki she’s barely holding back. The kwami wants to tell her master that everything will be fine, but the threat of danger and risk to their civilian lives always hangs in the air. 

“You’re strong,” Tikki says, breaking the silence. “Master Fu would not have picked you if he thought you could’t handle it.”

“But my abilities—you said they haven’t matured.”

Tikki nods in agreement, but there’s a glimmer behind her eyes which says otherwise.

“They haven’t fully, no, but that doesn’t mean you can’t work on them. You can never force what comes with time, but we can work with what you have.”

Tikki rises from Marinette’s lap and flies over to her desk. Upon it, Marinette’s phone sits abandoned. Tikki picks it up with a struggle and carries it over to Marinette before plopping it in her hands. 

“Wha-” Marinette begins.

“What’s a sound that puts you at ease?” Tikki asks. 

“Like rain or the ocean?” Marinette replies, confused and not quite sure where this is going.

“Anything.” Tikki throws her small arms up. “It needs to be something you can recall on a dime. Something that can pull you away from the real world.”

Marinette hums, before swiping her phone open and tapping on the music app. 

“There’s this song my Nona used to sing when she’d watch me for the night. I never understood why she liked it so much. She never mentioned any lost loves, but would still lean against the couch, eyes following mine, singing of how everyone else knew what love was while she did not.” 

“Maybe it was just pretty,” Tikki suggests. 

Marinette shrugs, still scrolling through her phone for the tune. 

After a brief pause, the old song starts. A woman’s voice rings out softly around Marinette’s room. 

All the boys and girls my age know well what it means to be happy, the voice sings. 

After the second verse, Tikki’s face begins to scrunch up. 

“And this song puts you at ease?” the kwami laughs out nervously. 

“I know, I know, it’s silly.” Marinette drops her phone to the bed, song still playing. 

“No, no.” Tikki sighs. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just wanted to be sure.”

Marinette nods, before looking up. 

“I’m sure,” she confirms. “You wanted a sound that could pull me away from reality? Well this is it. It’s sad at first, but I think there’s hope in the end.”

As if on cue, Marinette mouths the last line of the song, The day when I too will have somebody who loves me. 

“Wow,” Tikki says, not quite sure of what to say. The song feels too poignant for the moment. 

“So what am I to do with the song? How is that going to help me mature?” Marinette asks.

Her kwami takes a second too long to answer, still hung up on the lyrics. 

“Um. Yes. The song. Like I said, I can’t speed up time or make you grow up faster. I wouldn’t want you to if I could. But the song, it can protect you.”“Protect me?” Marinette asks, tapping her index fingers together at the point. 

“Yes,” Tikki replies rather of matter-of-fact. 

Marinette chuckles, before souring. 

“How is François Hardy going to protect me if Hawk Moth finds out I know Chat Noir’s identity? You remember when he akumatized Master Fu’s long lost love. She almost exposed who he was.” 

“Yes,” Tikki confirms. “I remember quite well.”The creaking of Marinette’s bed pulls the kwami from her rumination. Atop the sheets, Tikki steeples her red hands under her chin.

“With practice,” she replies. 

The confusion written across Marinette’s face is enough for her to continue. 

“If you can block Hawk Moth from your mind, you can stop him from fully akumatizing you, if the time came, and gaining access to your thoughts—no matter if you’re Marinette or Ladybug.”Marinette crosses her arms. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?” she asks, exasperated. 

“It’s not easy and it takes great dedication and patience,” Tikki warns her. “You weren’t ready before, might not be still.”

Marinette knows her kwami is right, but her stubbornness prevails. 

“I still don’t understand how I can practice doing something like that.”

“Why meditation of course.” 

Tikki closes her eyes and smiles. 

“Plagg calls it sleeping, but it truly does help.” 

“Do I have to hum?” Marinette asks with a raised brow. 

Without opening her eyes, Tikki shakes her head no. 

“You just have to close your eyes, clear your thoughts, and separate yourself from the sounds and feelings around you.”“Oh.”

“And if that’s hard at first, you have your song—your very depressing song.”

Marinette tries, she really does try for a few minutes. She lies down on her bed, closes her eyes, and tries to clear her thoughts. But how can one clear their thoughts when they’ve just found out their crush of many years, their source of infatuation is none other than their crime fighting partner?

“Marinette?” Tikki calls out as Marinette’s groan becomes louder and louder. “I’m guessing your thoughts are not clear then?” 

Marinette, still lying on her pillow, shakes her head no. 

“Try the song,” Tikki instructs. “Try and recall the song.”

“The song is about love,” Marinette grits through her teeth.

Tikki sighs—a long and arduous sigh. 

“You picked it,” she says with a huff.

Despite her attempts at meditation, it takes Marinette far too long to fall asleep that night. She dreads seeing Adrien the next day at school or worse, Chat when they go on their next patrol. The anxiety Marinette faces when met with the threat of Hawk Moth finding out their secret identities pales in comparison to the dread of facing those boys—or should she say that boy the next day. 

It’s not until she can feel the drooping of her eyes taking over that she realizes she’s completely overlooked the giant cat in the room. Adrien is Chat Noir. Chat Noir likes Ladybug. She is Ladybug. She screams into her pillow, wishing she could turn over and text Alya, but the last thing she needs right now is another compromised identity. 

“Stupid cat,” she mumbles into her pillow. 

When Marinette wakes the next morning, she’s compelled to think the previous day has all been a dream. She comes down from her room into her parents’ kitchen to find her mom cooking something fragrant on the stove and her dad at the table with his tablet. 

“Good to be back in the swing of things?” her mom asks, turning momentarily over her shoulder to greet her daughter. 

By the look of Marinette, Sabine is unsure if the answer is going to be positive or negative. 

“School is fine,” Marinette replies, slumped over with her backpack drawing her down like an anvil. 

“You okay?” her mother asks. 

Marinette is tempted to lie and say she isn’t feeling well, but the sooner she faces him, the sooner her sleep pattern returns to normal, she hopes. 

“Just a little sleepy,” Marinette replies. 

Sabine chuckles. 

“You never were a morning person, were you?” she comments. 

Marinette just moans, before filling up a glass of water and sipping it on the couch. 

“Are you not going to join us for breakfast?” her dad asks. 

Marinette looks up at the food on the table for the first time and her belly gurgles. It’s tempting, but she doesn’t exactly want to see the food a second time later on. 

“I’ll just grab a snack,” she replies. “I don’t want to be late. 

Her mother looks at the clock questioningly, but lets it slide. 

“Ok, honey. Well, have a good day.”

Her parents exchange a curious look, eye brows raised slightly, before returning their attention to their breakfast. Teenagers. 

For once, Marinette is early when she arrives at Lycée Françoise Dupont. Alya is nowhere in sight, but Adrien’s friend Nino is sitting on the steps of the school with both hands tapping away on his knees. 

“Nino,” Marinette calls. 

Entranced in his music, he doesn’t look up. 

Marinette approaches him and lifts one side of his headphones from his ears. 

“Nino,” she repeats. 

He glances up at her, a bit spooked, and smiles. 

“Oh hey.” He keeps drumming. “You’re early.”

He pulls the headphones down from his ears and lets them hang around his neck. The faint sound of music still flows from the ear cups. 

“I promise I did not plan this,” she jokes. “Have you see Alya yet?”

Nino shakes his head. 

“Why? Is it important?” He pauses. “Is it girl stuff?” he says looking mortified. 

Marinette chuckles. 

“Is what girl stuff?” A familiar voice asks. 

Marinette isn’t sure why her first instinct is to mock, but when she hears that voice—that playful, yet innocent voice—it’s like a switch goes off in her brain. 

She tuts. “I bet you’d like to know.”

Except, when she turns around to face the owner of said voice, it’s not Chat, her partner, but Adrien, her friend. 

Of course it’s Adrien, Marinette internally chastises herself. Why would Chat be here at school?

She recognizes in that moment how similar their voices are—how similar they’d always been. 

Adrien shifts his bags on his shoulder and a small smile inches its way across his face. Marinette believes for a second that he’s going to say something teasing back, but he just shrugs. 

“I don’t know much about girl stuff, but I’m open to learning.”
Of course he is. 

Marinette covers her mouth, even though she’s fully aware she hasn’t said anything out loud yet. 

“That’s good,” she finally mumbles out, words muffled by the hand still partially covering her face. 

Nino is looking out towards the street, possibly looking for Alya as the minutes count down towards the start of school and Adrien…Adrien is still watching her, eyes attentive and unwavering. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to share,” he finally says. “It being girl stuff and all.”

There’s no double entendre in his words, no sly grin, and no flirtatious wink. It’s just Adrien being Adrien and that, funny enough, is what’s causing Marinette the most stress. Had she really expected him to change, because suddenly she knew his secret? Hell no. 

“It’s nothing—nothing like that,” Marinette whispers, that familiar shyness rearing its unfortunate head again. “I just doubted you’d want to hear it. It’s not really that interesting.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Adrien replies with a saccharine smile. 

“Oh.” 

Marinette blushes pink and pulls at one of her pigtails.

Hold it together, she screams internally, but that golden smile and those adoring green eyes are skilled at making her fall apart. 

The sound of her best friend running towards them breaks whatever spell Marinette has been caught under. 

“Girl, I cannot believe they tried to charge me for decaf,” Alya says, slowing to a walk. 

“What happened?” Marinette’s attention quickly diverts as Nino and Adrien turn to head inside.

“The new guy—at the coffee shop—he tried—“ Alya stops trying to answer and gives herself a moment to catch her breath. 

Marinette places a hand on her friend’s shoulder as she leans over, both elbows against her thighs. 

“The new guy at the coffee shop was about to give me decaf when I clearly did not ask for it. I mean—” Another deep breath. “—what’s the point of even ordering decaf coffee?”

Marinette lets out a breathy laugh. 

“So what happened to the coffee you actually ordered?”

Alya stands there frozen before the last ounce of energy she has leaves her system. 

“Hey, Mari, just do me a favour and shoot me now.”

Marinette obliges and points towards her friend with a set of finger guns. 

“I take it back, I take it back.” Alya lowers Marinette’s arms before placing one of her own across Marinette’s shoulder. “I shall live to see another day. If not for my own sake, but for yours.”

Marinette feigns flattery when a low chime alerts them that class is about to begin. 

“Please, no running,” her friend says, keeping a solid grip on Marinette’s shoulder. “I’ve had enough exercise for one week.”  

Through all her years in school to become a teacher, nothing quite prepares Ms. Bustier for the sight she beholds in front of her. 

“I told you that daddy has a gala tonight,” Chloe says while a team of stylists stand behind her talking amongst themselves. 

“I’m sorry, but you’re blocking your classmates’ view behind you and frankly, they’re very distracting.”

The stylists don’t even look up as one of them points to an image on their tablet. Chloe turns to the three of them and whispers something too quiet for anyone else to hear. 

“Fine, Michelle and Leon are leaving, but I desperately need Sofia here.”

Ms. Bustier looks over to the remaining stylist who still hasn’t shown any interest in their conversation. 

“Chloe,” Ms. Bustier says sternly, although it comes out unassertive. 

“You won’t even notice her,” Chloe says, waving Ms. Bustier off. “Plus, I wouldn’t want to have to cause daddy any extra stress right now.”
She taps the phone that sits face up on the desk in front of her and smirks. 

Ms. Bustier bites her tongue. It’s a lost battle already.

“Sofia can stay, but she’ll need to take seat.”

If smiles could kill, Chloe would be deadly. She shoos Sabrina off the bench and scoots over so Sofia can join her. Sabrina, looking dejected, makes her way to the back of the class to find a seat. 

Not sensing the atmosphere of the room, Kim stands up and asks, “are we invited to the gala?”

Chloe guffaws. 

“Sure and then daddy will give you keys to the city.”

Kim’s face droops, however no one else in the room is surprised. 

“This is a gala for important people,” she continues, putting an extra emphasis on important. “People like moi; not people like you.”

She turns back around in her seat as if to make a point, but the only ones still paying attention at all are Kim and Sabrina. Just then, Sofia leans in towards Chloe and whispers something in her ear. An almost shocked expression takes over her face at her apparent blunder. 

“And of course, you are invited Adrikens.” She waves a hand towards Adrien, wriggling her fingers in an awkward wave. “Can I expect you there tonight?”

Adrien, who hadn’t been paying her much attention, turns at the sound of Chloe’s pet name. 

“Sorry Chloe,” he says. “I’d love to go, but under such short notice, I don’t have anyone to escort me to the gala.”

It looks like Chloe is going for a quick rebuttal when Adrien beats her to it. 

“I’d ask you, of course, but it wouldn’t be proper to ask the host.”

Chloe is near fuming at this response, but keeps it boiled under the surface. Only the whites of her knuckles against the desk show any indication of frustration. 

“Of course,” she replies. “Maybe it’s best you not attend. After all, the last time ended with an akuma attack. It’s like they’re drawn to you.”

Marinette eyes flicker over to Adrien whose usual calm demeanor seems to stiffen.

“If you really need someone under such short notice, I may have a a spare hour or two,” Marinette finds herself saying, before placing a hand on his shoulder. 

The knee-jerk response mimics the sort of gesture she’d make when reporters hounded in on Chat Noir after a long akuma fight—one that had left him exhausted and in no shape to answer their quick questions. 

The first response to Marinette’s offer doesn’t come from the boy himself, but almost every other person in the class, including Ms. Bustier. 

“Really!” Alya says, bewilderment written all over her face.

“Really?” Chloe follows with a disdain laced question. 

Only after everyone else has retrieved their jaws from the floor does Adrien turn to face Marinette. He places his hand over the one she has on his shoulder and looks up at her from behind a swoosh of blonde hair. 

“I accept,” he says. 

Marinette can feel the weight of the room come pushing down on her as if gravity on Earth had suddenly shifted. 

“You accept?” she chokes out. 

She’s back at it again, a blundering mess, but thankfully, he’s not done talking. 

“I accept,” he reiterates incase there’d been a misunderstanding somewhere in there. “But can we do something else?”

Marinette nods. She feels the weight of his hand against hers and the way the tips of his fingers move against her wrist in a methodic pattern. 

“Okay,” she squeaks out and this time the reaction is not from nerves or anticipation, but Alya, whose nails are creating divots into the material of her pants.

When class lets out for lunch, Marinette anticipates the questions to come flooding in from her best friend, but it’s Adrien who hangs back, waiting for the classroom to drain. She pulls the collar of her shirt away from her throat as he sits in front of her, pen tapping against the desk. 

Act natural, she tells herself, because even if she hadn’t followed that advice thus far, maybe she could start now. 

She begins packing up her own things slowly and takes an inordinate amount of time to check the clock on the wall. Even after her delay, he still hasn’t turned to say a thing to her. Maybe he wasn’t waiting on her after all.

Spotting Alya in the hall, Marinette picks up the pace and hikes her bag onto her shoulder. She steps into the aisle between the two rows of desks and makes her way around his when he calls out her name, soft and timid. 

“Marinette.” He pauses. “Thank you for stepping in back there. You really didn’t have to put yourself between me and Chloe. She’s upset with me right now, not you.”

He hasn’t met her eyes, however Marinette doesn’t need to see them to know how it feels to have Adrien Agreste grateful for something she’s done—she’s seen it so often with Chat that it’s been engrained in her memory for years. 

“I think Chloe’s always upset with me,” Marinette admits, leaving one hand trailing the side of his desk, before she settles onto the bench next to him. 

She’s so used to comforting him as Chat that she can’t help but move near him. It’s almost too hard to resist the urge to hold his wrists in her hands, in hopes he’ll look up. But she does resist. She keeps space between them—a friend’s amount of space—and waits patiently for him to act next. 

“Look, Marinette—” 

Here it comes. 

“We don’t have to actually do anything.”

Damn. It hurts more than she thought it would. 

“Unless you want to…” he trails off. 

He wants to?

“You want to?” It’s less of a question and more of an affirmation to herself. 

He wants to spend time with her. 

“Yeah.” His voice sounds strangled. 

“I’d love to. I mean… Yes. I would want to as well, in addition to…” Marinette feels her neck heating up. “You get the point,” she finishes, looking down towards those hands of his that have gathered in a ball in his lap. 

“Like Friday, maybe?” he asks.

“I can’t.”

What!

“I can’t Friday, I mean. My parents have a big event Friday night and I promised I’d help out. On the sidelines, naturally, after the last time I tried to help.”

He smirks. That Chat Noir, no-good, teasing smirk. 

“What about this weekend?” she suggests.His face that had lit up so bright, falls dark. 

“I can’t do this weekend. My schedule is crazy. I think my dad is trying to squeeze every last bit of energy out of me.”

He wrings his hands together in conjunction with his protestation. 

“Are you sure you can’t Friday?” he asks again, before retracting his question. 

Neither one of them want to admit their schedules are full and with the Ladybug and Chat Noir patrols occupying the school week, there’s not a minute to spare. 

“What about during?” he asks finally. 

“During what?” 

“During the event. Whatever you’re going to be doing, I’m sure I can help.”

Marinette pulls the corner of her lip into her mouth and nibbles at it. Saying yes would mean interaction with her parents, which could go two ways: embarrassing or mortifying. But he’s staring at her now, meeting her gaze, and she can’t say no to that face.

“I’ll ask,” she tells him, which basically means yes. 

“Good.”

He bops her on the nose with his finger, looks taken back for a second after, before pulling that smile back into place. 

A disgruntled ahem, comes from the doorway. The two look up to see a small group of teachers balancing binders, coffee, and laptops at the door. 

Ms. Bustier is among them with her own mug of tea. 

“Excuse us,” an older gentleman says, making his way into the classroom. “But we need the room for our meeting.”

It doesn’t take long for Marinette to find Alya at lunch. Her best friend is sitting at a picnic table outside watching Alix throw wadded up food wrappers towards a trash can ten meters away. 

“There she is, the woman of the hour,” Alya announces. 

Marinette blushes before taking a seat next to her. 

“So are we gonna talk about any of that?” Alya points in an aimless direction away from them. 

“Which part?” Marinette asks, stealing a sip from the kid’s juice box that’s sitting in front of Alya.

“Which part?” Alya asks, incredulously. “Let’s start with you asking Adrien out on a date!”

Marinette waves Alya down from her stupor. 

“I didn’t ask him on a date,” she clarifies. 

“So you’re not going to spend time with him?”Marinette pointedly avoids eye content, digging into her own bag for the snack she’d packed earlier. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Alya warns. “Are you or are you not going to spend time with Adrien outside of school?”Marinette nods. Alya taps her foot repeatedly against the leg of the picnic table, causing it to shake. 

“We are spending time together outside of school—” Marinette admits. 

“Mhm…”

“But it’s nothing like a date or anything.”

Alya lets out an exasperated sigh. Her friend is so clueless. 

“Well when is this non-date of yours?”

Marinette runs her fingers over the clasp on her bag. 

“Friday.”

“You mean the night of the animal shelter charity event?” Alya rests her head in her hands. “It’s such a date.”

“What?” Marinette squawks. “How could that be a date?”

Alya rests an arm over her friend’s shoulders and explains how she envisions the night. 

“Cute puppies, delicious sweets, Adrien with a puppy, stolen glances, Adrien with multiple puppies… You get the picture.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Marinette replies, pushing Alya’s hand down. “He’s more of a cat person anyway.”

“Well that just makes it worse. You know how deadly of a combination guys with kitties are.”

That night, Marinette considers skipping out on their patrol. However, with the charity event taking up most of Friday night and her Thursday night occupied by a date with her math homework, she decides to push through the tantalizing want.

“I’m sure Chat would understand if you needed to skip tonight’s patrol,” Tikki says. 

Marinette is sitting back in her office chair, legs sprawled out in front of her, good posture be damned. 

“Yes, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. However, we need to get at least one patrol in this week. Even when there aren’t akumas on the loose, there’s still bad people doing bad things.” Marinette flicks a crumb from the sandwich she’d eaten earlier off the arm of the chair. “Why didn’t you warn me about how hard this would be?”

Tikki ignores her last comment and looks to the clock instead. 8:41—just nineteen minutes until their usual meet-up time. 

“How can I face him?” Marinette asks after a long stretch of silence. 

“He hasn’t changed.”

“Well, no, but now that I know who's under that mask, I’m afraid of what I might do, what I might say.” Marinette slides her hands down her face and groans. 

Tikki rolls her eyes. 

“No, Marinette. What I’m saying is that it’s always been Adrien. Adrien is Chat Noir. You’re seeing him as two different people, when he’s always been just one boy.”

“But they’re so different,” Marinette whines. 

“What about you and Ladybug?” 

“Me and Ladybug?” Marinette isn’t following. “I am Ladybug.”

It takes her a hot second to realize where her kwami is going with this, but when it hits her she only becomes more annoyed. 

“Why does this have to be so complicated? Why didn’t Adrien just flirt with this side of me—the Marinette side?” 

Ugh. 

She wants to slide off the chair and just lie there on the ground for all eternity, but the minutes are ticking away.

“You already know why,” Tikki says. 

The night already has a chill to it, moon light leaving the roofs of Paris is a soft glow. Ladybug can feel the chill through the layers of her suit. She hears Chat Noir before she sees him, humming the tune of a radio commercial to himself as he waits for his lady. 

“Well good evening,” he says, glancing over to where she’s landed on the building adjacent to him. 

“Sorry about the time,” she replies. “I was running late.”

“No problem, My Lady.” 

His Cheshire grin ignites something inside of Ladybug and it’s not annoyance or rage. How can two little words—because they are quite short in length—make her question so many things?

If I love Adrien, does that mean I love Chat?

She shakes the thought away and looks up to find a concerned expression etched into his features. 

“You feline okay?”

When his pun doesn’t end with her usual eye roll, he approaches her timidly, before resting a hand on her forearm. 

“Personal problem or Chat Noir problem?” he asks. 

She can’t tell him the truth, because truthfully, it’s both. 

“Personal,” she replies, only lying by omission. 

“Hmm.” He looks puzzled. 

“Is it your family, your friends,” he begins listing things off, “school, global warming?” 

He chuckles and as hard as it is to not let his stupid joke bring her joy, she cracks a smile. 

“So it’s global warming. I see.”

“Chat,” she admonishes. 

“Fine, fine,” he obliges. “Then what is it? Boy trouble…”

She’s pretty sure he’d only been joking, only been poking fun of her to lighten the mood again, but her face’s betrayal causes him to trail off. 

“Oh,” he says instead. “It is. Can I help?” 

His offer sounds genuine, but his face says something different. When she replies with a quick, no, he looks relieved. 

“I think I’d just like to get my mind off of it.”“That I can do, Bugaboo.”

“Oh my god.” She pushes him away, playfully. “You rhymed that on purpose. I almost feel like retching.”

“Well don’t do it over the building, my favourite book store is down there.” 

She sticks a tongue out at him and looks over the edge. 

“You read?” she replies after verifying that he hadn’t made the book store part up.

He shoots her a look that says Touché, and hops down to where he’d been standing when she first met up with him. Maybe she can do this. If he manages to make a pun every couple of minutes, then maybe the fact that a certain green eyed model being underneath the mask won’t phase her as much as she thought it would. 

It’s just Chat being his goofy, over-the-top, cute self. 

No. 

It’s just Chat being not cute. Not cute. Not cute!

“Are we gonna get going then?” His voice cuts through her thoughts. 

She nods then steps forward to join him and almost face plants thanks to a lip protruding from the roof. Chat lunges forward and grabs her underneath the arms until she’s found her footing. She can feel the warm presence of his hands against the suit and wishes they stayed there longer. 

Quick, a cat pun. 

“You’ve got quite the cat-like reflexes there,” she says.

A cat pun from him, not you, you doofus, she chides herself. 

He’s a little bit surprised by the line, but falls instep before long. 

“Well, you should be so furtunate.”

Ladybug allows herself to look up towards him then and waits until her heart beat slows and she’s sure the fleeting feeling of his hands gripping her triceps does nothing to her. The doesn’t come, but it’s getting later by the minute and they both have school the next morning, so she relents. 

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” she says. 

“Good.”
He comes up beside her, a few feet from the edge of the building, and nudges her shoulder with his. After grabbing the baton from his back and spinning it around in his hand, he extends the bottom into the ground and takes off. 

“Where are we headed tonight?” she asks when they both reach the next line of rooftops. 

“I don’t know,” he replies. “I was sort of hoping trouble would find us instead.”