Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Marinette sighed as she examined the unfinished row, searching for the slightest flaw. It was only after she was satisfied that she slumped back into her chair.

Another hour or so and the second one would be done. Her hands ached from holding the position for so long and carrying out the minute, repetitive motion. It had been like this for weeks now, stealing every spare moment she could to finish in time.

It was already past midnight, but she was really tempted to wrap it up tonight.

Christmas was only two days away, after all...

Tikki fussed when she set the near completed fabric down, wiggling her fingers and stretching her wrists for good measure. “Marinette, you know you didn’t have to do so much.”

“I know,” she whimpered, frowning down at the hands that currently were trying to betray her own good intentions. “But, Tikki, you didn’t see his face.”

It had been the night before All Saint’s Day, when she finally had a fair handle on what her parents wanted to do for the holiday -- as so much of her family lived and died abroad.

And they really only had the day off before the bakery would need to be opened again early the next morning.

Her parents had planned video calls for Maman’s family in the morning and with Papa’s family in the evening. She could have a bit of time to nap in between as she worked on a catering order for a few hours, but it would greatly cut into the patrol time.

She knew she had to tell Chat Noir that her schedule would be weird. Being home meant it would be that much harder to break away without her parents noticing. And Alya’s family would be together all day, so that could hardly work as an excuse.

For all of her worries, Chat Noir had been nothing but conciliatory. “Not to worry, my Lady. This Cat has it in the bag.”

She had grown so skilled at rolling her eyes and that she didn’t miss the fleeting somber note that crossed his face. The flicker of disappointment in his eyes, the soft frown twisting his lips.

And once again, Marinette was left wondering just how much Chat Noir did or didn’t have at home.

It took another couple of days before she’d mustered the courage -- and the wording -- to ask him. Marinette sighed wearily. If only it wasn’t so risky asking even the slightest detail about their each other’s lives outside of the mask.

Christmas was still months off, but she could always start planning now.

“I didn’t want to drop planning information on you at the last minute, so if you had any plans…”

Chat winced, his shoulders falling heavily. “I should be home for Christmas.”

“You mean you will have family in and out during the holiday?” Ladybug bit her lip. “I’ll see what I can do to arrange--”

Chat Noir turned his glowing green eyes back at her, rueful smile tugging his lips. “I meant I’ll be around. I should be able to break free pretty easily.”

She gaped. “You won’t have relatives you’ll need to make your apologies to?”

He chuckled darkly, turning his gaze out onto the night. “Pretty sure that won’t be an issue, my Lady.”

Ladybug had been stunned at the time, wordlessly watching her partner turn away.

Little by little, her mind connecting the dots that had been so subtle so far -- to the day poor Nino had been Akumatized. Chat had mentioned mid-battle that not all parents were kind and well-meaning.

Why hadn’t she realized that he was probably talking about his own family?

Chat Noir turned, ready to head out into the night, but apparently he didn’t feel like heading home just yet.

Maybe he hadn’t wanted her to know. Maybe he hadn’t wanted her to feel sorry for him. And before that moment, she hadn’t realized just how much she hated not knowing.

”Wait, Chat Noir.” She caught his hand, pulling herself a bit closer to him. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I know we have to keep our identities secret, but clearly that’s been hard for you.”

He sighed in defeat, leaving his eyes closed.

“I should have known.” She wrapped him into a hug, and he felt his resistance melt at the slightest touch. His head dropped down onto her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I should have pieced it together.

“You couldn’t have known.”

He felt her sigh shaking her slight shoulders. “Yes, I could. I just didn’t want to dig.”

He exhaled. “You still don’t.”

“Only because it isn’t safe to know more.” She whispered, her hands sliding up to brace his upper arms. The slim muscles tensed under her gloved fingers. “But it isn’t because I don’t care.”

“So, I have to ask. Are you going to be home by yourself?”

He blinked, lips pressing into a tight line. “Someone will be there. Probably. But I can easily sneak away without being noticed. People are usually busy with their own...thing.”

Ladybug frowned, her eyes peering off into the night. “My family has a few traditions they keep but they’re not really related to the holiday itself. But they would notice if I was gone for too long. I was able to sneak away last year, purely by a fluke.”

Chat Noir nodded, his brow furrowing beneath the dark mask. Last year had been hard. Were it not for the costume, he wasn’t sure how he would have coped. “It had been nice to you, my Lady. Even under the circumstances.

Her lips curved wryly. “Let’s hope we don’t have Akumatized Santa again this year.”

Mischief gleamed in his eyes as he grinned. “That would be pawful.”

With an exaggerated groan for his benefit, she bumped her fist softly to his shoulder. “Are you able to get out of the house easy enough? Maybe you could make some new traditions with your friends.”

His smile turned sheepish and hesitant. “Are you offering, My Lady?”

She’d pursed her lips, weighing how to tell him that was surely to be impossible unless Hawkmoth was up to his usual tricks.

But the obvious weight on her partner’s shoulders, and his surprisingly quick acquiescence had only bolstered her own resolve. Surely, she could find some way to sneak away, even if she had to pretend to be headed out to Alya’s.

As soon as the “Maybe…” had slipped past her lips, Chat Noir blinked rapidly.

He looked far younger than he had to be, jaw dropping in wide-eyed amazement. “Seriously?”

Ladybug couldn’t help but smile, tapping two fingers against the bell at his neck to push him back just the tiniest bit after he’d leaned in closer with the most ridiculously happy smile she could remember seeing on his face.

“Not to worry, Chaton. I can probably get away at least for a little bit. To give you your present at the very least.”

“Present?” His eyes went wide, innocently sweet.

But it was the rosy blush that stained his cheeks proved to be her own undoing.

It’s what had her up late for a month and a half now. She’d been making presents for her family and her friends since the summer.

But Chat Noir was more than just a friend. He was her partner. Her equal. Surely, he had earned something a little bit extra.

She’d mulled over if that whole first week before deciding on a theme.

She’d had practice last year in making a scarf for Adrien.

It had been a moment of inspiration. She remembered how cold Tikki had been -- how cold she had been as well, out on Patrol during those brisk December nights.

Chat Noir hadn’t complained in the slightest, but had moved as quickly as he could sprint or vault -- catapulting himself through the air or lingering just a bit closer to her than necessary.

She smirked victoriously and set about making a few designs, spots and paw prints of varying size and patterning.

Within the week, Marinette was already hard at work designing the pattern for a pair of scarves, working late into the night. She decided she would let him pick which ones they each would use whenever they both had the chance to meet up on Christmas Day.

Tikki had been helping, holding the fibers between her little hands whenever Marinette’s wrists started to get tired. But even the heavy helping of treats from the bakery below had only kept her going so long.

Marinette eyed the extra bits of yarn left over from the first scarf. Tikki had been so cold last year, that she was tempted to knit a tiny scarf to match, but she had saved that for when Tikki had already fallen to sleep. The surprise would be half of the fun.

Absently, she wondered if maybe Chat Noir’s kwami might like one, too.

Marinette grinned as she held up the tiny stretch of knitted fabric victoriously. The kwami scarves would be a little too small to embroider her signature in. Although she could probably still manage a small cursive M.

She worried her lip.

Now that she was thinking on it, she had her doubts.

It made an important point, and one that she kind of wished she could mull over with Tikki. She had always made it a practice to weave her signature into every piece she had done.

But in this case, would that be wise?

It was only in the oddest set of coincidence that she hadn’t been able to take credit for all her hard work on the only other scarf she had ever made.

She had tossed and turned as she finished up the small red and black spotted scarf.

It was just before her eyes had slipped closed, the tinier scarf safely hidden away in the folds of the larger red scarf, that she had finally come to a logical conclusion.

She could always say -- as Ladybug -- that she had commissioned herself to make it.

Satisfied, she tugged the comforter up over her, a small smile curving her lips. No one would be any the wiser.

Chapter Text

To Adrien, the wait felt like ages.

He had spent the past few weeks, wearing down the stain on his bedroom hardwood floors. He spent the whole of the year prior dreading Christmas Day. And he hadn’t been wrong in his quiet fears.

But from the moment his Lady had promised him a Christmas present, he knew there was no other choice for him but to reciprocate in kind.

He’d been saving money away for a while. It had been a bit of a dream to have money stored away for the magical day when Ladybug would fall for him. And while it hadn’t happened yet, he hadn’t given up hope.

Getting her a nice gift would be a worthwhile use of the funds.

As his father had attempted to buy his affections, money itself certainly wasn’t an issue. He certainly didn’t often want for anything, but he didn’t really have ready access to spend it freely. Nathalie had given him some Euros at odd intervals, especially when Akuma had started to appear to ensure he could get safely home if he were ever separated from the Gorilla.

Which happened most of the time.

And since the electrical grid had gone down more than once, credit cards weren’t always practical, he’d had a bit of hard currency stashed away in his sock drawer.

More than enough to buy Ladybug something special.

Just as soon as he figured what that would be.

Adrien had fretted for over a month, raking his fingers through his hair and making list after list in his free time. He’d switched back and forth between the Ladyblog and looking online for ideas. He had even gone as far to ask Plagg for ideas.

By the time Plagg was about fifty cheeses into the list, Adrien had gotten the idea that his kwami’s help would get him nowhere.

And he couldn’t exactly ask his classmates -- even Nino -- without opening up a whole slew of questions from them. Well, mostly Alya, for sure.

Finally after a bit of searching and one furtive trip out window shopping in Paris, he’d found a gift that seemed to fit her.

When Christmas evening finally came, Chat Noir paced the middle deck of Eiffel Tower, rubbing his arms a bit to brace against the windy chill. The Tower itself wouldn’t close for several more hours yet, but no one else could reach these platforms, guaranteeing them a bit of privacy for a gift exchange.

He had made one final stop at the store along the way, carrying the barest bit of currency to buy the final piece of his gift. And he was carrying enough of a disguise to keep from being recognized.

He didn’t dare arrive late.

He’d been very careful once he’d come to a decision. Chat Noir knew he needed something common enough to not cause any issues for her in terms of revealing her identity. But just something nice.

Something -- if he was lucky -- that would remind her of him.

He could only hope that she thought of him sometimes when the transformations had worn off. Plagg knew all too well how much he thought of her. He had decided on a necklace, a red ruby pendant the color of her suit. He tugged open the box he’d carried in the suit, letting the stone’s facets glimmer in the warm, glowing lights of the Tower. The setting and chain were functional, heavy enough to hold it solidly in place, and long enough to keep it hidden under normal clothes.

Not that he would expect that she would wear it much of the time. But whenever she might be inclined, it would help knowing that she wouldn’t lose before or after a battle.

Chat Noir mulled engraving something into it, but he couldn’t quickly decide on a pun short enough to fit on the setting.

Besides, that nagging internal voice that sounded rather suspiciously like Plagg mused, what if she didn’t like it? What if she thought it was a little much?

But now he was anxious, hopping from foot to foot and then bounding and vaulting around the beams to find the most likely way that his Lady would come in.

Luckily, she didn’t make him wait too long.

Ladybug was swinging towards the tower. Her gift was light, but not exactly aerodynamic. She’d only just leapt off her own roof when her cloth bag went fluttering precariously in the breeze. She had to be careful, swinging much more slowly than she’d liked.

Her brow wrinkled. Chat Noir had already spent too much time alone today. She really had wanted to be moving much earlier, but Maman and Papa got a very late, very lucrative catering order that they all couldn’t justify passing up.

She sped through, frosting cupcakes as fast as her fingers would fly.

Far more exhausted than she would like, she sped upstairs to pretend to turn in early. She was tired enough to do it, too.

But she wasn’t about to leave her partner out in the cold.

Luckily, she was near enough to the tower to spot his gleaming jade green eyes standing out against the darkness, wreathed in a halo of blue light.

By the time she’d landed atop the beam mere feet from her partner, it was clear that his wide smile was nearly as bright as his eyes.

“Joyeux Noel, my Lady.” He grinned, falling into a deep bow.

“Joyeux Noel, Chaton.” Smiling, she ruffled his wind tousled hair, fingers lingering beside his ears. “Was it a good holiday for you this year?”

Blinking, his smile softened. “It wasn’t as bad. But it did help to have something to look forward to.”

Her lips curved, as she pulled the bag from her shoulder ready to pull the pair of packages out of her bag.

But Chat Noir was faster...and oddly shy. For him anyways. “I actually got you a little something.”

Ladybug gaped. She certainly hadn’t been expecting something.

It was a smaller, black velvet box, that he fished out of the zippered pocket in his outfit. It almost wasn't even fair that he'd had a pocket and she didn't. She had struggled enough getting up here.

She bit her lip, arching her brows as he had handed over the box.

Her eyes scanned over the lid, silently mulling the possibilities. Half the fun of opening a package was guessing at the treasure contained inside. Her parents' gifts, while kind and generous, were not necessarily all that surprising.

But Chat Noir?

He could keep her on her toes.

Her eyes darted back to his, already anxiously trained on hers. It was actually a little disconcerting, his level of attention.

She quirked her lips, dropping her gaze back onto the box as she gently pried the top open. A tiny card rested inside. Roses are red, My Lady is too. Here is a gift For my dear Bugaboo.

Ladybug snorted. Of course, he would have left the joke inside. Shaking her head, she pulled the card out of its place, revealing the red teardrop that rested just beneath it.

Her eyes widened as gloved fingers lifted the silver metal out of place. "Chat Noir," she gasped at the soft glitter of the facets. "This is too much."

His slanted smile cut through the dim light. "For the heroine of Paris? You can hardly say you aren't deserving."

Ladybug bit her lip. "It's lovely, Chaton. Honestly."

She'd barely caught the wince as it registered in those glowing green eyes. "But?"

She exhaled softly. "But I'm not sure where I might be able to wear it."

He chuckled at that, tapping at the slim chain with one clawed finger. “The chain should be long enough -- and strong enough -- not to break. You should be able to hide the stone itself if you were ever worried. Besides, it isn’t exactly a unique stone. There could easily have been thousands of people with a nearly identical necklace in Paris.”

She hummed in near-silent appreciation. Her partner had actually done his homework, somehow managing to give her a gift that was sweet and thoughtful.

And he had every right to look so pleased with himself.

But it was at the same time a rather reckless move, even if he couldn’t have any idea that was the case.

It would be hard to get away with wearing jewelry that nice as that when she was just regular old Marinette, even if she could hide the stone. For sure, she’d klutz out and it would spill out of its hiding place. Or she would anxiously fiddle with the stone during class, with her far-too-inquisitive best friend sure to ask a whole host of questions about who was buying her jewelry.

But maybe she could just put it on at home from time to time. Or in the evenings when she’d head out on patrol. Even if there was no way for him to know, she would.

She grinned, murmuring a cheerful “Thank you” as she carefully tucked the necklace securely back into its box.

Ladybug was so focused that she didn’t see him offering the budding rose to her until it was nearly under her nose.

Her eyes almost crossed as she looked down at it. She was starting to feel a bit inadequate as Chat Noir had definitely gone a bit overboard with the gift she hadn’t exactly been expecting to receive herself. Though it was always a bit easier to quash those feelings of self-doubt when she was wearing her spots. “Didn’t I just say you had given me too much?”

His grin was unrepentant. “Christmas comes but once a year, my Lady.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, tugging the pair of packages out of her bag and into his waiting claws before accepting the flower.

Chat Noir’s eyes widened, filled with curiosity and mirth as his claws attempted to delicately open the ribbon around the paper.

He pouted rather adorably as it wouldn’t cooperate, wincing slightly as he slipped the claw across the ribbon.

She held her breath once he finally pulled the paper away, green slitted eyes poring over every detail as he pulled the fabric out of the first package.

His lips quirked up at the sight of the colors, the fabric quickly unfolding across his now careful claws.

Blinking, he turned his gaze up to her, tugging her into a fierce hug, the likes of which she hadn’t felt since a T-Rex was chasing them through the streets of Paris.

Careful, Chaton.” Ladybug smirked, warmth suffusing her cheeks as she wriggled out of his arms. “I have knitting needles and I know how to use them."

Chat Noir chuckled softly, winding the red and black spotted scarf about his neck. His brows lifted, as he brushed the soft fabric against his skin, relishing the soft warmth against the rush of wind that chilled his cheeks. “Did you make this, my Lady?”

She smiled, silently measuring her words. “I did have to get some help, I admit. But it was chilly enough during winter last year that I thought it would be worth it for patrols at least.” He picked up the second package, far less careful this time. He barely registered Ladybug bending down to pick up a piece of the wrapping paper that had fallen.

His eyes grew wide at the second scarf, the design was far more intricate. “You made two?” Tiny green paw marks that echoed the symbol on his ring when transformed lined the edges, with a claw mark traced in matching green racing along the length of the scarf.

The design was impressive to say the least. Whoever had helped Ladybug to make these had done an amazing job.

She was biting her bottom lip. “It isn’t as pretty as your gift, but I thought they turned out well.”

His jaw nearly dropped. “What on earth are you talking about? These are amazing.”

Ladybug crossed her arms over her chest, quirking her lips in clear doubt.

“I’m serious, my Lady.” He put the black and green scarf around her neck, smirking more broadly as her cheeks reddened slightly. The dark color of the scarf made the soft bit of color all the more obvious to his heightened senses. “It isn’t just soft and warm. Look at the design. At the colors. Someone spent an incredible amount of time making these two.”

“Four.” The blush on her cheeks hadn’t faded, but her eyes had more of the fire he had come to expect.

“Hmm?” Both sets of his ears perked. Had he her heard right?

She had one small wrapped package in her hand, nodding to the other on the metal grate beside his foot. “There are a pair for our kwami as well. Mine gets really cold this time of year.” He grinned, snagging the tiny package from the ground. It must have been stuck inside the larger scarf.

Chat Noir had it opened in an instant, marvelling over the tiny paw print motif. Plagg might put up a token resistance, but he would definitely be curled up on it inside his school bag by the next day of class.

Ladybug had opened up the other scarf, holding it up for him to see. It had the same spots pattern, but as he squinted down at the scarf on his neck, he could see the jarred pattern that clearly had to be Ladybug’s Lucky Charm scattering across the city. The power he so admired. The power he would do everything in his power to protect.

“I’d like to keep this one, if you don’t mind.”

Arching a brow, Ladybug pressed her lips into a thin line. “Why would I mind? This is your Christmas present. You could have them both if you’d like.” The tiny red scarf dangled from her raised hand. “I just needed to take this one home for my kwami.”

“Of course.” He grinned, tucking the loose ends of the black and green scarf neatly into place, as carefully as his claws would allow. “I only need the one.”

Chapter Text

Gabriel Agreste frowned at the red and black scarf draped around his son’s shoulders. Thus far, he hadn’t worn it outside of the house.

But inside the house, it was as omnipresent as the soft smile he’d worn as a young boy.

He had to be careful. As Adrien was very much the face of his business, he had to be extremely discriminating in any outfit he was able to wear out of the house. Any imperfection in his attire -- real or perceived -- could be a black mark against his own brand.

His son’s fencing uniforms were an obvious exception, but even then those were made of the highest quality and tailored as needed to his periodic growth spurts.

He’d had to keep a wary eye open the day he’d seen his son walk in the door with a blue scarf. He’d had Nathalie retrieve the scarf from his room, and had been surprisingly impressed with the meticulous work.

It wasn’t without the minor flaws, but the baby blue scarf was of sufficient quality that he could warrant no objection.

This new scarf, however, was entirely objectionable. Even if he wasn’t free to say just how much he loathed the garish, red-and-black spotted monstrosity.

He had been lucky enough to see that Adrien had left it beside his computer desk when he’d headed off to school.

Going into his son’s room wasn’t his preference, but he couldn’t very well explain the whole of his reasons to Nathalie -- and he had sent her off on an errand to the office anyways.

Gabriel scowled as his fingertips skated across the fabric, flipping the surprisingly soft material over. Had his son bought this somewhere? It didn’t seem to have a tag.

He blinked as his fingers caught on a bit of embroidery, tracing the barest bit of a pattern. If he hadn’t been examining it from every angle, he could easily have missed it.

Tilting his head thoughtfully, Gabe returned the red-and-black spotted scarf back on the desk where he had found it, exiting the room.

The signature was familiar; he just had to place where he had seen it before.

Adrien hovered over his desk, finishing up the last of the problems Madame Mendeliev had assigned that day for Physics homework. The ends of the scarf dragged along the page, spurring him forward all that much faster.

The sooner he finished his homework, the sooner he could finish his dinner.

The sooner he could pretend to turn in for the night, and escape out into the night to patrol with the physical manifestation of Ladybug’s warmth and generosity wreathed about his neck.

To meet her atop the roof of the school, enjoying all that warmth of her kindness in her words and deeds as they headed out into the night to right the minor wrongs of Paris before they leads to major Akuma problems. To delight in the light that danced in her eyes as she parried every clever line.

To relish the black and green scarf that protected her own neck from the cold.

He had even figured out how best to wind the scarf around their necks to maximize the aerodynamics as they leapt over the Parisian rooftops.

It hadn’t hurt that the windows in his room were occasionally drafty, allowing him without the slightest hint of guilt to enjoy wear his new scarf from Ladybug just as often as he could in the privacy of his room.

He was alone in his room often enough that he didn’t even think twice about wearing it downstairs to dinner.

Then again, it wasn’t often anymore that his father actually showed up to share a meal. But there he sat at the head of the table, gimlet blue eyes assessing him over steepled fingers. “Adrien.”

Wide-eyed and stock-still, he gaped. Until his father’s gaze darted to his still-open mouth, guilting it back into its accepted space. “Hello, père. I didn’t expect I would see you.”

“Clearly.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to start a fashion trend at the dinner table?”

Blinking, he looked down at the scarf, before his eyes darted to the red and white striped scarf around his father’s neck. “Well, you are wearing one as well.”

The smirk on his father’s face was jarring. “True. But not a winter scarf.”

Adrien grimaced. This was not going well. “I had been wearing it in my room. The windows are a bit chilly.”

“I’ll have Nathalie get the heating in your room checked, then.”

Furrowing his brow, Adrien sat down in his chair with all the grace and good breeding that was expected of him. It took a rather concerted amount of effort not to sigh and slump down into the chair.

This was going to be a bit more tricky than he expected.

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. The sheer sight of the scarf had him seeing red. But something else was wrong and he couldn’t entirely pinpoint just what that was.

He had his suspicions that his own son, far too reminiscent at times to the black-garbed menace who held half of the path to making his wish come true.

Everyone once in awhile, Chat Noir felt familiar. He felt like his son. But that was impossible. He’d had him under careful guard, kept his schedule busy. To keep him out of the way until his wish could be fulfilled.

Which meant at least for the moment -- and owing the questionably tense post-holiday spirit -- that he ought to be charitable. He couldn’t object so long as Adrien continued to only wear the scarf inside the house.

Brows dropping, as he lifted his fork to begin methodically cutting his meal into neatly digestible bites.

But that nagging voice at the back of his mind -- that sounded suspiciously like Noroo -- egged him on. What if his son were that darned cat? Had the boy commissioned the piece from his friend?

He hadn’t realized he’d voiced the latter question aloud until Adrien blinked, bringing the napkin up to dab his lips before responding. “No, father.” His eyes lit up as he lifted the scarf in his fingers. “Actually, it was from a friend.”

That curved his lips. At least that was a friend’s influence he couldn’t quibble much with. It was far better that his son learned how best to work with creative types if he might eventually take over the reins of the company one day.

Poor color choices aside, the work was exemplary.

Of course, if it was made for Adrien in particular, chances were that the girl knew his son was at least fond of the red-spotted menace. Brows furrowed, Gabriel frowned.

Perhaps he could find out something else. To use the scarf as a means to gather information. To exclude his son, to reassure himself that all would still be well with them with Nathalie and his bodyguard on the case against Adrien’s earliest inklings of teenage rebellion.

Not that talking to his son was something he had done much of lately. At him, certainly.

Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, covering it with a cough. “Your friend. She does good work.” Adrien looked up, eyes wide. His son’s jaw had dropped just enough that he was tempted to lean across the table to push it back into a less gauche position. But before he could move, Adrien corrected it himself, this time smiling impossibly wider. “She does.”

Did his son smile that much during the photos? That particularly soft look would definitely sell their spring line far better than his last photo session would.

“You should tell her that her skill has improved.” “Improved?”

Gabriel nodded, scowl not quite leaving his brows. Adrien was gaping again.

Absently, he mulled having Nathalie hire a decorum coach. That level of reaction just wouldn’t do within the harsh business world. They were lucky it wasn’t already more of an issue in front of the cameras. “Since the blue scarf from last year. Of course, I have far fewer objections with that color. This one is a little too harsh in combination with your usual attire. Marketing would have to start fielding too many questions about the clashing colors.”

Adrien sat back into his seat, his eyes showing a whole spate of emotions, only clarified by the high arch of his eyebrows. “Improved?” Of course that only confirmed his assessment. He shook his head to focus his thoughts.

Adrien blanched, setting his fork noisily back upon the table. His father had raised a displeased brow, but otherwise continued talking.

He could hardly bring himself to listen. That lovely blue scarf hadn’t been from his father after all.

He would be more disappointed, except it couldn’t have come as much of a surprise. His father had been even more withdrawn than usual after his mother had disappeared. He had hardly given him the time of day last Christmas until after he’d run away. Why would it have occurred to him to give him something other than the usual pen?

“The quality of the knitting is much improved, and of course, color-choice aside, the design complexity is far higher. It must have taken several hours at least to design and several more to knit together.”

Now that...was actually interesting. Adrien’s eyes dropped to the fabric at his neck, unwinding it just enough to make note of the design.

Blinking, he forced himself to look back up at his father. The man clearly couldn’t see that he was upset, but he was somehow so sure this was made by a friend.

Adrien bit his lip, desperately trying to piece together the scraps of clues his father had given.. A female friend.

And, of his few friends, he could only think of one person who fit that description.

He coughed, straightening in his seat. His foot was bouncing anxiously on the floor beneath the table. “You think Marinette made this?”

Both of his father’s eyebrows flew towards the vaulted ceiling. “I’m as sure as I can be. Unless, I am quite mistaken, she was the one who won the hat contest at your school was she not?”

Hesitant, Adrien nodded. His fingers brushing over the soft wool. If Marinette was the one who made the scarves, maybe she could tell him more about his Lady.

“She signed all her work.”

His father’s grin grew sharp. “That showed surprisingly good instincts on her part. Of course, the established fashion designers of the world aren’t nearly as easy to outwit as Andre Bourgeois’ daughter.”

Adrien coughed, to cover the smile. He scanned the edges of the scarf until he’d spotted the familiar embroidery. The whole name wasn’t there, only the familiar initials.

MDC.

When he looked up, he found his father staring at him suspiciously. “You didn’t know she made your scarves?”

Adrien smiled. At least all the years of modelling was good for something. He had far too many questions now, including just how it was that his father had noticed Marinette’s signature on each scarf. He knew the one currently in his hands hadn’t left his room without him. Luckily, he had far more practice lying -- mostly by omission -- than his father would ever know.

But without Plagg’s extra bit of confidence, his nails bit into his denim covered knees beneath the table. It was almost as if his father could see right through him, leveling him with a withering glare he’d perfected in setting down his staff for years and years.

“I didn’t know who made this one.” Adrien breathed, burying his fingers to borrow a bit of Ladybug’s luck. “It was a Secret Santa gift in class. And there was no card.”

Piercing grey eyes locked with his, breaking after a few tense moments as he simply nodded.

Gulping, Adrien wound the scarf back around his neck. “I’m going to head back to my room and work on some homework.”

He didn’t wait for his father’s approval.

Chapter Text

Proverb: if you sort out a problem immediately it may save a lot of extra work later.

Adrien hadn’t run back to his room, but it had taken a fair amount of effort to pretend to be calm. But once in the safety of his room, he’d nibbled at his lip. As oddly stressful as dealing with his own father had been, he’d half-feared visiting Marinette even more.

Plagg was entirely nonchalant, slowly nibbling through his wheel of camembert as if he hadn’t had a whole other wheel at lunchtime.

Sighing, Adrien gently placed the scarf on the desk beside his computer. He still had a bit of time before he and Ladybug were due to meet up for Patrol.

“Alright.” Plagg grinned, glowing green eyes just peeking out of his happy, half-lidded eyes. “I’ll bite. What’s eating you, kid?”

Adrien halted mid-pace. “You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?” Plagg arched a brow, before slowly savoring his next bite back into the gooey wheel. “I am usually too busy cat-napping through all the awkward dinner conversation.”

“Marinette made these scarves for Ladybug. Father noticed the caliber of her work..” Adrien smiled. “And even remembered that she happened to sign her pieces.”

Plagg even stopped chewing at that, swallowing the bit in his mouth roughly. “That’s...nice?”

Not that Adrien noticed. He was too busy bouncing on the balls of his feet. “So, you know what that means, right?”

Snorting, Plagg’s eyes gleamed. “That pigtails spent a lot of time embroidering something you probably would never notice?”

Adrien groaned, dropping his head into his hands. It was an odd feeling, knowing his father noticed something he honestly should have seen.

And Plagg would definitely see to it that he didn’t forget anytime soon.

“You think it is the magic that’s protecting Ladybug’s identity?”

“Sure, kid.” Plagg snorted. “That’s why you never noticed the embroidery on the blue scarf either.”

Slowly, Adrien looked up, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “I thought you said you weren’t listening.”

“I said I was cat-napping. Not unconscious.” Plagg grinned. “You think I can do any more than that with Hawkmoth so active anymore?”

Sighing, Adrien massaged the bridge of his nose. “It’s just that Marinette must have been talking to Ladybug for some time to design and create the scarves. Which mean that she had to have interacted with my Lady several times in person at least.”

Glowing emerald eyes narrowed. “So you’re hoping she can give you a hint.”

“Am I wrong to hope she might?” Lips curving, Adrien nodded. He was practically bouncing on his heels in anticipation of some new hint. “Besides, I’d like to thank Marinette anyways. I don’t know much about the sewing side of the things, but I know that knitting takes a fair amount of skill and some time. I am certainly busy enough to know there isn’t much time for myself between real life obligations and my responsibilities as Chat Noir. It makes sense that Ladybug got help. And that Marinette was generous enough to help.”

Plagg shook his head and took another painfully slow bite.

Adrien sighed, and dropped back into his desk chair. He spun around slowly, looking mournfully at this kwami.

Until Plagg finally caved, mustering a put-upon sigh. “Just let me finish my dinner and then you can go make a fool of yourself.”

As Plagg took every spare second of precious time slowly savoring his dinner, Adrien had paced his room, planning just what to say.

He would thank Marinette, of course. She more than deserved every scrap of effusive praise he could pull together for her lovely work. For all the time she must have spent planning and knitting each of the four scarves.

That must have been what had her coming in late to class these past few months.

But even when she was tired, Marinette was really clever. If he let on that he knew she’d made his scarf, it would lead to questions on how he’d figured it out she’d made it.

Adrien frowned, a rogue eyebrow quirking upwards. His arms crossed, he halted in place.

This was going to be trickier than he’d first thought.

Of course, he could point to her initials in the fabric.

Technically, his superhero eyes were keen enough to have spotted it, even if he had been too busy marvelling at the pattern -- and the true generosity of both girls in their lovely gift.

It was only too bad he couldn’t mention that his father was the one who had noticed her work and had acknowledged the quality. He knew that Marinette had idolized his father -- at least professionally. She probably would have been really happy to know she’d gotten his attention.

He knew all too well that was hard enough to achieve.

Batting at the edge of his scarf, Plagg amused himself as he chewed noisily.

Adrien couldn’t quite quash his own smile, thankful for the distraction that would break his thoughts away from less happy territory.

But it did make him wonder how Ladybug managed to convince Marinette to make the two tiny scarves.

And how she’d managed to get the size just about right.

He shook his head, mulling the possibilities.

Had Ladybug gone as herself -- and been forthright about just who would be getting this gift? Or had she gone incognito -- or as her civilian self?

Had Marinette even known who Ladybug was commissioning the scarves for? If she even knew that it had come from Ladybug....

But how could he ask without possibly tipping her off?

Adrien sighed. He could certainly pretend that he didn’t know who had given the gift to him. It had worked with his father...and it was technically true after all. He didn’t know just who it was who was hiding behind that red spotted mask.

His foot tapped anxiously as Plagg held the last chunk of Camembert before his open mouth. Adrien’s brows furrowed. Maybe he could try to commission Marinette to make a thank you piece for Ladybug.

Chat Noir raced across the rooftops. Between Plagg’s dawdling and the long stream of questions plaguing his mind, he would only have about fifteen minutes left to spend with Marinette, hoping she might shed a little more light onto the mystery that was his lovely partner before he was due to meet up with the Lady herself for Patrol.

If he was lucky, he hoped he might find Marinette up on the upstairs balcony -- or at least in her room -- although it was certainly possible that she might be downstairs with her parents.

Not that luck was ever his forte.

With a sigh, he vaulted over the last bit of the Seine that abutted Marinette’s balcony.

He would be more than satisfied with the tiniest extra detail about his Lady. Or, barring that, another excuse to come back to Marinette when he wasn’t so pressed for time to try again to pry for a few spare details.

Alighting on the balcony as gently as the last 5 foot drop -- and his heavy boots -- would allow, Chat Noir sighed.

Of course, Marinette wouldn’t be up here. It was much too cold to linger up here this time of year.

The scarf shielded him well against the biting chill, air turning crisp and frosty as he exhaled. Even with the suit that kept most of him warm and active in these colder month, he wouldn’t want to stand up in the wind.

His hand clenched into a fist and knocked.

Marinette was rushing. Dinner with her parents had run late. And if she didn’t reach out to check in with Alya, she knew her friend was likely to come over without notice.

Tikki was cuddled in the scarf sitting atop her dresser, nibbling through the treasure trove of treats Marinette had snuck into her presents when she’d carried them up to her room.

With them all off school for the holiday’s she’d be hard pressed to find an excuse for where she’d run off to.

Especially not if Alya stopped down into the shop first. A few offhand mentions by her parents at dinner had confirmed that was becoming a standard practice. Even if Alya was just there to snag a sample cookie and not starting to get incredibly suspicious about her magical disappearing act, it meant she’d need to be extra cautious.

Settled into her computer chair with her legs folded up on the seat, she’d sent her friend another few messages, her phone loudly chiming in response. Alya’s mom had clearly gone all out on Christmas dinner, enough so that it was truly an impressive feat that Alya somehow had managed to keep her younger sisters from tearing into the pile of presents. They were clearly still wading their way through the pile of presents, if Alya’s present opening play-by-play were any indication.

It was why she was so sure that Alya still had yet to open the dress she had made for her over the summer. When she’d found the sunset orange fabric, she’d had to buy it. Most of the fabric was a rich golden glow that would set perfectly against Alya’s skin tone, but the edges of the bolt pushed into a deep pink and ending in a muted purple, which she’d cut to flow into the empire waist skirt. She’d had to alter the hem slightly, but the occasional shopping trip had made it easy enough to gauge her new measurements.

But she was running short on time. Alya was sure to send a whole slew of messages -- pictures too -- once she saw and tried on her dress. And she would need to leave in at least twenty minutes in order to meet Chat Noir on time.

She’d nibbled her lip, typing out a message on her phone.

One she never got to send before her wide eyes locked with glowing green outside her bedroom window.

Marinette moved in an instant, instinct sent her scrambling up her ladder to open the skylight door as Chat Noir rose up towards the rooftop.

She had no idea what would have brought him here, but the pitiful look in his eyes was unmistakable. Had something gone wrong? Where he needed to get away?

But why would he be coming here, if Patrol was only a short time away?

As almost an afterthought, she glanced over to where Tikki had been eating.

Her kwami only nodded, stuffing the last of a cookie into her mouth. Sure that Chat Noir was out of sight, she zipped across the room and phased inside the desk drawer.

“Chat Noir?” Marinette opened the hatch, looking out into the night. She had been ready to hop out onto the roof, arms crossed over her chest to fend off the wind. But the cold air that rushed in changed her mind.

He moved subtly, blocking a bit more of the wind. “Can I talk to you for a bit?”

Chat Noir dropped down into her room, sliding down the ladder with all the same practiced ease he exercised with his baton.

Nodding and backing herself carefully down the ladder, she invited him in -- it was much too cold outside at the moment. She had been shivering just from the rush of cold air. And he couldn’t very well ask her to stand on the ladder for however long they might chat.

As he gently unwound the scarf from his neck and mouth to talk, Marinette suddenly realized that Chat Noir was standing in the middle of her room. They both expected one another to be meeting on a rooftop above the city in short order.

If he arrived late, Chat would definitely be suspicious if she wasn’t already there.

Her eyes widened in panic as her pulse kicked up. He had been here before, but only when Akuma brought the battles here. But now he was standing here, awkwardly out of place against the sea of pink.

And a bored Chat Noir was a dangerous Chat Noir.

Her flirty, joking partner would certainly spot the posters on her wall. He might not be close enough to her as Marinette to actually tease her back, but she would definitely be able to spot the devil in his eyes.

“Ummm. Chat?” She cleared her throat loudly. “Would you mind...turning around?”

He blinked his eyes closed slowly, complying with surprisingly little trouble. His claws toyed absently with the edge of the scarf. “Can I ask why?”

With a exhale of relief, the muscle tension ebbed from her shoulders. But her moment to relax was short lived as she darted over to the wall of posters. Marinette sighed. “My room is just a bit of a mess.” .

His ears perked, swiveling backwards toward her, but otherwise he didn’t move a muscle. “It didn’t seem that messy.”

He fidgeted at the flurry of activity behind him, holding his curiosity captive.

Chat Noir frowned, opening his eyes to look down at the scarf. Marinette had asked him to turn around to have some privacy to fix whatever had bothered her. But if he didn’t distract himself, she wouldn’t really have the privacy she’d requested.

Of course, she didn’t know how acute his hearing was while he was transformed.

Letting his eyes flutter open, he let his gaze wander.

His smile grew as his gaze landed the basket of yarn on the dresser several feet away. His fingers itched to play with the soft fabrics, but even from this distance, he could spot the colors.

Crimson as bright as the vision protected in it who danced just out of reach most evenings -- whether he was awake or not.

A midnight black that matched the shade of the leather of his gloves.

The toxic, neon green that matched Plagg’s snickering gaze.

And that unmistakable, soft blue.

It was that that drew him forward, towards the dresser.

If he ever had a moment’s doubt about his father’s words, this was all the proof he’d need.

With impossibly gentle handling given his all-too-destructive claws, he pulled at one of the free ends. Marvelling at the fragile strength held in a single strand.

At the seemingly fragile girl who had woven these -- twice now -- into gifts that held incredible meaning.

Not that she could ever know.

Or that she was fragile as she’d first appeared, even on the first day they’d interacted when she helped with Evillustrator.

Marinette was even more of a mystery than ever before. But if he played his cards right here, perhaps he could find out more about his Lady and find out the secret behind Marinette’s secret gift last year.

He sighed, registering the slowdown of activity behind him.

“Does it take a lot of time to knit?”

“Hmm?” Marinette murmured.

He swallowed hard, repeating himself. “I just got this scarf...in an exchange for Christmas. And I know you did some sewing, so I figured you might be able to tell me how long a scarf might take to knit.”

Chat wasn’t sure how she’d managed to sneak over without him noticing, until he found himself staring down at a smirking pair of blue eyes. “How did I know you would find my yarn supply?”

Guilty, he placed the blue skein into her waiting hands.

“I guess it can take some time.” Her grin was wry as she re-wound the yarn and placed it back into the basket. “It depends how much practices the knitter has, and how complex the design.”

“How long would it take for you to knit one?” Chat Noir prodded, willing the warmth rising in his cheeks to fade.

Blinking, she rocked back on her heels. She was watching him carefully, tapping a finger to her lip. “A scarf like that might take me a week. But I’ve really only done a few now.”

Head tilting, he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “How many have you done?”

“Ohh. I think I am up to five now. Plus a hat and a few other knit pieces I’ve tried.” Marinette chuckled. “Why do you ask?”

“I was thinking about commissioning a thank you gift for the person who sent me this.”

Her smile softened. “That’s very sweet of you.”

His tongue darted out across his lips. Wasn’t his blush supposed to be fading? “Not that I know who it is from, of course.”

“Of course,” she nodded.

“I just--” His chin dipped down. “The gift I got was homemade, and took a great deal of time and energy. And now my own gift feels inadequate…”

Marinette hovered near his shoulder. He could swear she was about to set her hand on his arm, before she’d clearly decided against it. “I’m sure she doesn’t think that, Chat.”

He smiled ruefully, brows arching high. He didn’t think he had mentioned who had given him the scarf. “It doesn’t matter. I still would like to give her something.”

“Do you know what you’d want to make?” Marinette’s hand finally patted his shoulder, trailing her fingers off of his arm as she’d moved back across the small room to finish straightening things up.

This had to be one of the oddest conversations she’d ever had with her partner. And considering how ridiculous the Akuma could get, that was saying something.

Chat Noir had all but confirmed that he wanted her to make something for herself.

Not that he could ever know.

“Honestly? I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

She grinned, pulling the last of the posters off of the wall, placing into Tikki’s tiny waiting hands so it could join the others in her desk drawer. “Well, I certainly could help if you had some idea. Or I could recommend someone else who might be able to help if you needed something faster than I could make it.”

He chuckled, his usually over the top personality softening like the smile on his face. “I shouldn’t need it that quickly. But if you’re willing to help--?”

“You can turn around now,” Marinette grinned, spotting an opportunity. “Why don’t you come back in maybe a day or two? Once you have a idea of what you’d like me to make?”

His boots scuffed on the floor, eyes widening as he spun around.

Chat Noir wasn’t sure what Marinette was working on while she spent this few minutes cleaning up.

But he was pretty sure he had spotted something he wasn’t supposed to.

Neon green wasn’t exactly a subtle color. And paired with black and an all too familiar design, sitting neatly on her dresser?

Well, it was a wonder that he’d only yelped in surprise and not fallen entirely into an undignified heap on her floor. He still had half of his dignity anyways.

But to be fair, he was quite literally floored. Because if the quick mental math -- and the simple presence of the scarf here in this room -- told him anything, it was that this was herfloor.

He was half-giddy, his lips fallen open, leaving him near breathless. And definitely speechless. How on earth could he have missed this. Missed her?

Marinette just chuckled, blissfully oblivious to his internal struggle, walking over and extending her hand to help him up. “Wasn’t there some silly saying about cats always landing on their feet?”

She had just punned again, without any prompting. He was absolutely certain that his heart had skipped a beat.

Shakily, he stood up with her help, his eyes never leaving hers.

Not even when she’d frowned.

Lifting up on her toes, the back of Marinette’s hand was pressed to his forehead. He was shaky on his feet and his face had been red for most of the short while he’d been here. Was he pushing himself too hard again? Had he managed to make himself ill while he was covering patrols for her?

He leaned forward, letting his eyes slide closed behind his half mask. His lips curled upwards in a barely discernible smile.

“Are you alright, kitty?”

He’d only nodded, but she could swear that his cheeks got more red.

She bit her lip. “I’m not sure you’re really well enough to go out on Patrol.”

He chuckled softly, regarding her behind half lidded eyes. “Know my schedule that well, do you, Princess?”

She scoffed, taking a half step back and drawing her hand back from his forehead. “It’s common enough knowledge that you both patrol most nights. Not that I could avoid knowing either, since my best friend runs the LadyBlog.”

Her eyebrows knit with concern, as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you have some way to contact Ladybug? You really don’t look well, so you probably ought to go home and rest.”

Chat Noir smiled, only the barest hint of glowing green peering out from behind his half mask. “Oh. I don’t think anything could keep me from patrol tonight. I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

Had it gotten warmer in here?

Marinette took a deep breath, fidgeting as she turned back towards her desk drawer where Tikki was hiding. She was anxious to transform and make sure he’d at least get to their designated meet up location in on piece.

She bit her lip, torn between the instinct to protect her partner and to protect her identity. If Chat Noir really was feeling poorly, there was no telling if he’d be able to safely race across the rooftops.

She glanced back over at him, surprised to feel the full weight of his gaze on her. Inhaling, she steeled herself. “I can’t really stop you, of course. But please be careful.”

Nodding, he carefully braced himself as he methodically stepped up the ladder, a silly, half-dazed grin on his face. “See you again soon, Princess.”

Chapter Text

At loose ends: in an uncertain or unsettled situation or position

Marinette set her jaw as the hatch closed just behind him. Gripping the ladder, she’d had to fight to keep from racing out onto the roof.

She needed to be sure he was okay.

Marinette sighed, setting her lips into a thin line as she’d glared at the hatch door in her way. She’d been ill herself some months back. And the combinations of Tikki’s help and pure muscle memory had gone a long way on keeping her safe. She hadn’t trusted herself to run, settling instead for swinging.

But Chat Noir had been there to catch her when she’d slipped.

If he hadn’t been here, she could have been at his side already, making sure that he was doing okay. Instead she’d had to wait to protect her identity.

At the moment, she’d never resented the need to do so even more.

“He’ll be alright, Marinette.” Tikki cautioned her, a tiny hand on her shoulder with surprising strength for so small a package. “Plagg will keep Chat Noir safe. Well, as long as he is conscious at least.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “Is consciousness necessary?”

Tikki frowned slightly. “Not technically. So long as Chat Noir’s kwami is still awake and Chat’s ring is in place, the transformation should hold until his kwami gets exhausted.”

“And if he fell?”

“His kwami would keep him from getting badly hurt.”

“But it still might hurt?”

Tikki’s silence spoke volumes, only strengthening Marinette’s resolve to scramble out onto the roof.

"Marinette!” Tikki’s voice was muffled by the rush of wind, howling down into her room. “Your scarf!"

Marinette turned back, as Tikki zoomed back towards her, struggling under the weight as she carried the black and green cloth in her hands. .

Tikki looked anxious, placing it into Marinette’s outstretched hand. “There’s no sense in you getting sick, too. .

The hatch door had dropped loudly behind him, jarring him only slightly from his dazed glance back towards the door.

Back at the girl who might still be standing on the ladder. Towards the girl who definitely had sewn the lovely scarf, his trembling claws wound ever-so-gently over his face.

Covering the widest, goofiest grin on his face.

He popped over to the rail, balancing his weight -- and the question as he looked back towards that door.

Was it possible? Was he right?

Was Marinette really her?

Was his friend actually his Lady?

Chat Noir gripped his baton in his claws. He was so tempted to drop back onto the balcony and re-open that door.

He needed that certainty as desperately as his body needed air.

Or at least as desperately as Plagg required Camembert.

Just hours ago, the whole notion would have seemed entirely impossible, had he even considered it. And yet there was a literal basket of evidence -- and the weight of her own words -- that would serve as proof. The presence of the scarf in her room? She’d said herself she’d only made five, and he personally knew where three of them were for sure.

Which meant he’d spotted the fourth.

But the doubt still remained. The similarity in their appearance was uncanny, especially now with him really looking at her.

He felt his cheeks heat and was never more glad for protection of the scarf.

As much as he wanted to stay, to confirm it as she popped up out of her skylight door, Ladybug would expect him to be far from here, to meet her some rooftops away.

With the fact that his wayward tongue was struggling enough to form words in her presence, every bit of spare time to put his thoughts in order seemed necessary.

Chat shook his head, slapping his claws against his cheeks. He’d wanted to talk to Plagg, to get him to confirm what seemed all but certain, but there just wasn’t time. And while he would readily drop his transformation if she had but asked...she certainly had not already.

Leaning his weight onto the baton, he dropped onto the nearby rooftop desperate to let the chilly night air force sense back into his brain.

He had managed to get another block or two away before the warm wash of power, pricked his ears and the hairs at the back of his neck to full attention.

Pulling it away from the rooftop below.

Ladybug grimaced as she scanned the horizon, winding the black and green scarf into place. Chat Noir hadn’t gotten far if he was still in sight. Not with his usual speed.

That alone was concerning.

From the moment she’d met his eyes not half an hour before, she’d resigned herself that she’d get there late, but she didn’t want to go too far out of the way.

But the way her heart clenched when she saw his footing slip, and his claws scratching into the shaky ledge had her on the move, caring not one whit for masking the direction of her journey to his side.

Bracing panic only bolstered the pinpoint accuracy of her yo-yo, the surety of her momentum into the swing. It was the same adrenaline drive that hastened her into battle with a more single-minded focus.

She knew she needed to get to him fast, before he might fall. She hated the thought of Chat Noir being hurt, not while she could help it. His Kwami might keep him safe, but he could still feel some measure of pain. She certainly had on occasion.

Ladybug bit her lip, gripping the chimney for balance as she spun the yo-yo out, snagging his leg with the string and then wrapping the spare end around the chimney for good measure.

Wide green eyes met her when she balanced herself over the ledge. “Good to see you, My Lady.”

Her eyes softened, hand extending down to his claw. “Looks like you’re in quite a fix. What happened to your baton?”

His smile was rueful as his boots sought more sure purchase in scrambling up the side walls. “I lost my grip on it. It might be up there beside you.”

Her gaze flit away, looking at the roof nearby. This would be a good deal easier with his baton after all. “I don’t see it.”

Chat winced. “Then it might have fallen.”

With a grunt of effort, she re-positioned herself for better leverage, hauling him upwards as if he were dead weight. She didn’t stop pulling until he was sprawled out on the rooftop beside her.

The effort -- and the ebb of adrenaline -- had her growing far more tired than she should have been otherwise. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drop your baton, Chaton.”

His cheeks were a little red, his breath coming in short, stilted pants. “I may have been a bit distracted.”

Ladybug sat up, setting the back of her hand to his forehead before frowning down at her gloved hand in consternation. “Are you not feeling well?”

His green eyes slid open, peer at her carefully. “I’ve felt better. But there is nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

She blinked at that, noting that his ears -- the clearly human ones -- were pretty red as well.

Ladybug sighed, ruffling his hair lightly. “You shouldn’t have come out if you weren’t feeling well. I would have understood.”

With each passing moment that she was near, he felt the slightest bit more breathless. The glamour keeping her mask securely in place had dropped but he was just as dazzled by the girl behind the magical veil.

His senses had been so attuned and hyper aware of her presence that he’d definitely felt the tug of power when she’d transformed.

He’d felt it before, but hadn’t recognized it for what it was. The shock had left him all-too-suddenly without his baton and gripping the old shingles for dear life.

A thread of doubt might still remain that was probably the miraculous magic fighting for the last vestiges of protection for her safety.

But even without Plagg, it was all adding up in his head, convincing him more and more than he was right...

Ladybug had for certain come in the same path he had taken from Marinette’s house.

Chat Noir knew just how fast she could travel. There weren’t many houses in between, and what were the odds that one held another girl who was nearly his own age, just as kind and just as fierce.

With worried, hauntingly blue eyes, a dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks.

Who was able to sneak in and out of Marinette’s room in the few minutes between when he’d been on her rooftop to grab the scarf now hanging about her neck?

Chat exhaled, letting his eyes slide closed before the honest shone through them. His heightened senses were bad enough, but at the moment he was even more physically aware of her than he had ever thought possible.

The soft scratch of her gloves on his scalp were not so subtly becoming his undoing.

From the very beginning, he had placed Ladybug up on a pedestal -- and though he’d hovered beside her, saving her just as she’d saved him, Ladybug had always been untouchable, even a little aloof. Even at the beginning, she was as professional about the role of heroine as he was forced to be as a model and as a student. Being Chat Noir was a boon, through which he had finally gained some measure of the freedom he’d so craved. Being a hero was certainly never a duty to shirk, but he’d always wanted to make it more fun, where she had been more serious even if she was willing to banter a bit when the heat of battle had subsided.

But after she’d faced down her own fears -- ones he had been uniquely placed to see -- just to call out Hawkmoth before the first, true victory. If had been difficult to think of her as anything but amazing and truly heroic.

And now he knew the girl underneath, truly knew her.

She was real and close and tangible.

Just as she had been all along. Her mask had fallen, but she had no idea it had.

He knew he needed to tell her, he just wasn’t sure how. Or when.

Chat Noir was quiet...almost disconcertingly so.

Ladybug shook her head, her fingers still massaging his scalp and carefully dodging the lazy twitch of his feline ears as her hands drew near. She knew what to make of a flirty kitty. She knew how to parry his banter.

But a sick, quiet kitty? That was a bit more tricky. Even as Ladybug, there was only so much she could do.

Patrol was off for sure. She couldn’t trust that he could keep his balance. As it was, she was considering carrying him someplace close enough to his home that it would keep his identity safe. But that would mean she needed to be sure he could keep steady on his feet long enough to get inside his home.

His eyes were drawn to her hand as she scooted away, leaning her back against the chimney.

Her eyes softened at his dazed confusion, patting at her side for him to come back and sit up at her side. His movements were slow, but a bit more steady than she’d expected.

Ladybug exhaled in relief when Chat dropped down into place at her side, her finger tapping at his bell. “You need to take care of yourself, Chaton.”

He chuckled softly, as her fingers grazed the underside of his chin . "But I like when you worry about me."

Her eyes hardened as she pulled away and then elbowed him, frowning fiercely. “I’m serious, Chat Noir. You could easily have gotten hurt in that fall. And you’re clearly out although you’re not feeling well.”

Chat Noir stilled, his gazed trained entirely upon his partner and her moue of disapproval. His own lips parted as weighed what he could possibly say. She was still so convinced he was ill, which was just one more piece in the puzzle to confirm Marinette was Ladybug after all.

But, for the moment, he would gladly pretend the illness rather than to put their whole partnership at risk in another critical mis-step. Slipping from his footing tonight was bad enough. But ruining their partnership -- their friendship? He wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover from that sort of fall.

After all, it had only been a short while that he even had cause to suspect who was behind the mask. It was more jarring that only now his words eluded him when he’d needed them the most. He knew he had to tell her, but he just wasn’t sure how.

“I’ll be careful, my Lady.”

Satisfied, she leaned back, her arms still crossed over her chest.

After she had snagged his baton back up off of the ground with her yo-yo, they sat together in companionable silence out of the wind for a while longer. He’d moved a bit closer, careful to block the wind as much as possible.

His nose detected the heavy scent of the bakery still on the scarf, one which no longer lingered on his own red and black scarf.

Her blue eyes danced mischievously as he punned, though his wit was nowhere near as quick as it ought to be, he delighted in the roll of her eyes towards the heavens and the shake of her head.

But it was her laugh that was what erased the last of his doubts. He had overheard it often enough in her interactions with Alya.

He wished it could have lasted far longer, but Ladybug was clearly shivering.

He stood, showing he was steady enough on his feet to be trusted to get home on his own.

She was skeptical, even as her teeth chattered. “D-do me a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Before you de-transform, call and let me know you’ve made it home safely.”

And he thought he’d been blushing earlier.

“It’s her, Plagg!”

The kwami glared out from under the pillow, across the now-darkened room. “So you’ve been saying, kid. For the past hour.”

“I still can’t believe it.” Adrien sighed, “She is Marinette.”

Plagg grumbled, digging himself out from under the soft pile of blankets he had been using to try to block out the noise. “And yet you haven’t told her.”

The kid’s sigh was even more dramatic somehow. He should have known the boy would somehow manage to be even worse once he’d figured it out. “I’m not sure how, Plagg.”

“How is it hard?” Plagg sat up, waggling his eyebrows as he’d raised his voice half an octave in falsetto. “I know who you are, Bugaboo.”

Adrien grumbled, tossing a pillow in his direction -- and missing.

Plagg snorted, floating in the air. “It doesn’t matter how. You just need to tell her.”

“I know.” He groaned. “And I want to. But I’m just not sure how. Do I tell her as Chat Noir? Do I do it while she’s Ladybug? Or while she is Marinette? Should I offer to reveal myself in return?”

Plagg could feel his good hours of cat-napping slipping away, even if his own resolve was softening. “Is that what you want, kid?”

“It is.” Adrien murmured, pulling his legs up against his chest. “I’m just not sure if it is wise. How did the past Chat Noir’s reveal themselves?”

At that, Plagg chuckled. “Not all of them did. Sometimes Ladybug and Chat Noir were able to take care of the threat in a few days. Sometimes all ended happily, sometimes not. There might have even been times they revealed themselves after our services were no longer required.”

“So there is no right way to do this?”

“Nope.” Plagg grinned, already hearing the call of his pillow.

“But,” Adrien started, his voice trailing off.

Plagg’s face fell. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“But?”

“It’s just...Marinette treats me so differently in class.”

Groaning, Plagg’s hands could barely reach his temples, but they got close enough to massage his growing headache down to a more tolerable level. “Kid, there are some things you need to figure out for yourself. This is definitely one of them.”

Chapter Text

Adrien tossed and turned, mulling Plagg’s words.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to figure this all out on his own.

It was just that Marinette had puzzled him for quite some time now. And since he knew it was actually her behind that mask -- her that he had actually fallen for -- he had no earthly clue how to tell her without scaring her off.

Marinette had always been a bit of a puzzle. Adrien sighed. He knew that she tended to act a little odd around him, with stammering and the occasional klutzy tendency. But he had never truly been sure why.

Now he could be sure that the clumsiness was a bit more normal. Ladybug had been very self-conscious about that on the first they literally had collided into one another.

And even as Marinette, she’s had no issue treating him much as any other member of the class...at least while he was behind the mask.

So what was it about him as Adrien that made her act so differently?

Was it all that bad interaction on the first day they met -- as Marinette and Adrien, anyways?

Was she intimidated by his father? She did want to go into fashion design, so the fact that his father was such a big name in the business might be a constant source of confusion and consternation. Maybe she’d feared making a misstep with him might lead back to his father and hurt her chances within the industry.

Not that she’d ever have cause to worry. Marinette was always kind -- even to Chloe within reason. Considering how often his old friend treated Marinette poorly, it spoke unerringly well of his Lady that she’d never hesitated to save Chloe, even if she couldn’t stand to be in her presence.

Adrien muffled his snort of realization in the covers. Of course, now it did explain why Ladybug never liked to linger to chat whenever Chloe was around.

By the time he woke up the next morning, he was no closer to understanding why he was so different.

Plagg just chuckled, patting him on the head. “Cheer up, kid. Maybe she just had a problem with blondes...."

Adrien glared, reluctant to escape from the warmth of his comforter. “Well, that makes me feel so much better.”

Still, he’d gotten up and gotten ready, preparing himself for the day.

But the bags under his eyes spoke volumes -- ones that he would need to hide from Nathalie and his classmates alike. To hide from her, if he was even lucky enough to be holding Marinette’s attention.

With a heavy sigh, he rummaged in the medicine cabinet. It wasn’t often that he was thankful for all of those hours spent in a makeup artist chair.

Adrien’s eyes widened. He might have been able to mask the bags under his eyes, but the near-permanent dark blush that had seeped into his cheeks still threatened to reveal him after all.

Honestly, what else was he supposed to do?

From the moment Adrien had locked eyes with her as soon as he’d entered the room, he should have known he was doomed.

He was already off-balance and running later than usual.

Not that he hadn’t managed to get up at his early, usual hour and gotten down to eat breakfast on time. But Nathalie’s frowning countenance should have been a sign that a lecture from his father on proper self-care was in order.

But the sharp-edged smile and the roll of her eyes to one of Alya’s quips as she’d prattled on about her latest Ladyblog post?

That was pure Ladybug.

His own eyes darted to the ground. His father had already berated his composure once today.

And he hadn’t quite counted on just how much the proximity would affect him. Ladybug would sit behind him for the whole of the day. She had been sitting just behind him all along, with him none the wiser.

But now, that all had changed.

He’d spent the hour, half listening to the first lecture of the day, taking scattered notes and trying not to be too obvious while he was busy sneaking glances at the girl behind him.

The weight of her gaze on his back -- whether or not she was actually seeing him and not the teacher. His ears burned, purely from the shared hope and dread that she might -- might! -- be looking his way.

But he was never that lucky.

Adrien sighed, content to blush and burn his way quietly through the day -- at least until he’d figured out how to be calm again in her presence.

It was odd how much easier it was to keep his cool on the other side of his mask.

Nino kept slipping him notes discretely, just to make sure he was okay. And he could definitely spot Alya tapping the back of Nino’s chair with her shoe.

“I’m okay.” He murmured, as Madame Bustier dismissed them for their next class. “I’m just really tired.”

Nino looked back at Alya and then sighed heavily. “Your dad needs to ease up. There’s no reason for him to run you so hard.”

His eyes darted over to Marinette, only find her eyes on him as well. He’d only dared a fleeting glance, but he saw how her brows were knit. How she nibbled at her lower lip. Adrien smiled, making an extra effort to not look as worn out as he felt. The act wasn’t all that hard considering just how high his pulse had spiked. “I’ll be okay. Just have to get through today.”

“If you’re sure…” Nino looked uncertain, but settled himself back up in his chair as Madame Mendeleiev walked in to start her Chemistry lecture.

He wasn’t sure how this had happened.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He was sure Madame Mendeleiev had bundled them off into groups. And he was sure that Alya staked out Nino as her partner in short order. To be fair, she didn’t look even half as sorry as the rueful smirk she’d shot him seemed to suggest.

Marinette had blanched, turning her eyes toward the floor as she’d tugged her chair a bit closer to his and run through the problem set.

He dragged a hand through his hair, smoothing it awkwardly in attempt to keep from appearing as nervous as he felt.

It was just the pair of them, handling some of the worst problems in Paris.

Without the Hawkmoth...and the masks.

Even if she was convinced he truly wasn’t well, she didn’t seem to have much of an issue sitting close enough to him. Marinette’s blue eyes had been trained on her paper with that single-minded focus.

Chemistry wasn’t one of her stronger suits, and any other day he’d be perfectly glad to help her navigate and spot a key math or logic error that might send her down the wrong path.

It was just that right now, he was far more distracted by the Chemistry off of the page.

Everything felt decidedly off-kilter. The simple fact that Marinette didn’t know he was actually her partner -- in far more than just the present exercise -- made him feel like the whole of their partnership was out of balance.

It wasn’t as if he could put her identity back in the bag. Things could never be precisely the same, even if he had only figured it out entirely by accident. The fact of the matter was that his own awareness had both literally and metaphorically raised the proverbial heat and pressure upon him.

It wasn’t fair for him to have this knowledge and not let her know. As Ladybug and Chat Noir, they held a tremendous responsibility to the people of Paris. To keep all of them safe. To keep each other safe so the city would survive to see another Akuma free day.

It wasn’t fair to her that she had no idea he had the been the one fighting at her side all along, even if she wasn’t all that fond of him as a person otherwise.

It wasn’t fair to either of them that at the heart of this was a safety issue; that the whole idea of the secrecy was to prevent Hawkmoth from pressing an advantage.

It wasn’t fair that she was so adorably focused on the problem set as his mind went wandering off, the tip of her tongue peeking out from between her teeth.

Adrien shook his head, shutting his eyes to mentally force himself back into the game. He really just needed to figure out some way to bring them back to a new state of equilibrium.

His brows furrowed, as he blindly gripped the edge of the desk, his mind fumbling about wildly for an appropriate catalyst.

Whatever he’d decide, he’d have to do it quickly. It was bad enough he was struggling right now. But if he was still struggling the next time they had to fight an Akuma, there was a chance he couldn’t keep her safe.

Couldn’t keep them all safe.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Huh?” He whispered, slowly opening his eyes to meet hers. Unbidden, heat was already rising to his cheeks.

Just how long had she been watching him?

He gaped as she tilted her head, watching him with the same careful, steadfast gaze she had turned towards applying her Lucky Charm. “Just...be sure to take care of yourself.”

Adrien’s eyebrows hit the ceiling. Marinette had been quiet all morning. His hands braced against his jeans, as he held a tenuous hold on his composure through sheer force of will.

But he couldn’t keep from smiling wider when he’d spotted to worry in those blue eyes “I will.”

“Good.” She was smiling back now, her own knees bouncing visibly beneath the desk. “I’m sure there must be something going around.”

Adrien gulped against the lump forming in his throat, marvelling at the fond smile lingering on her lips. “Oh?”

Marinette nodded, her eyes growing a little distant. “Another friend of mine was definitely feeling poorly last evening but was being too stubborn to take care of himself properly.”

Awkwardly, he coughed, shuffling in his seat. “I should be okay. I’ll just go home and take a little nap during lunch break.”

“Sounds like a plan.” A grin brightened up her face, one that held his focus for far too long before he had to shift his focus back down to the mostly blank page in front of him.

“I wouldn’t want to worry you.”

Marinette watched anxiously as Adrien headed down towards his car. He at least seemed to be keeping to his promise.

“I do believe that your boy has a little crush, M.”

“Wait. What?” Marinette gaped back at her friend.

“Really?” Alya leveled her with an incredulous gaze as the rest of the class flooded out of the room for lunch. “You mean that you didn’t see him blushing?”

Marinette scanned the yard anxiously, tucking a stray lock back into place. “I mean, I saw how red his face was, but that didn’t mean he was blushing. I thought he was actually a little sick. Didn’t you notice how much slower than usual he was at answering Madame Bustier?” She rocked back on her heels nervously. “Or the bags under his eyes?”

Alya patted her shoulder. “Well, I guess it is possible that you might be right.”

He had even turned around and given a little wave before opening the door and heading home for the break.

Marinette smiled, waving back at him even before she’d wondered if he had even been waving at her in the first place.

When she’d looked up, Alya was too busy smirking. “Of course, it is just as possible that I am right about this one.”

Chapter Text

Adrien sat in a daze for the whole of the car ride home. His gaze grew unfocused, barely taking note of the buildings rushing past as he debated what to do.

If the Gorilla noticed, he spoke not a word, just as silent as he ever was.

That was probably a good think considering how often Plagg was sneaking his head up out of the duffle bag to frown at him. Pressing Plagg’s head back into the bag, he sighed.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to see Marinette.

In fact, he didn’t just want to see her; he needed to. It seemed as necessary to him as breathing, just to be sure she was safe and hale and whole.

Ever since he’d puzzled it out, his own instincts made him even more worried about her. Sure, her suit could protect her from an awful lot of what even an Akuma could throw at her, but she spent an awful lot of time outside of the suit. And they both knew all too well, how quickly an Akuma could burst in without the slightest bit of notice.

It was half of what sent him dashing towards her balcony after patrol each night.

Over the past few days, he’d realized that truly protecting her meant letting her know that he knew. She needed to know that he could be a risk if an Akuma turned him against her.

How else could he be sure he could keep her safe when it mattered? Knowing Hawkmoth, there wouldn’t be all that much time.

Paris’s safety depended upon them working well together. At the end of the day, for every fight they scrapped their way through together, that was what had mattered most to her.

No matter what, her happiness was what mattered most to him.

But they didn’t know how much Hawkmoth might be able to see or to know of who they were.

He couldn’t very well keep visiting her as Chat Noir without possibly drawing his attention to Marinette herself.

Which meant he really had to figure out some way to handle all of this as himself.

Adrien sighed heavily, closing his eyes as he leaned back into the seat. It was really important that he get to the point he could be normal around her...somehow.

He just wanted to be sure that everything would still be okay between them.

After that first misunderstanding, Marinette had been nothing but kind to him. Sure, she was a little more distant and quiet than she was with all the rest of the class. She had maybe been a little awkward and anxious around him, but he kind of figured that was mostly his father’s doing. He knew very well she was talented with textiles, and was a fan of his father’s work.

If she knew his father actually approved of her work, she’d be over the moon. She really was amazing, and she worked so hard, even if it was so often in secret.

Adrien smiled softly, as the car slowed into the drive. Slinging his bag on his shoulder, he opened the door.

He really, really wished he could figure out how to tell her.

Nathalie intercepted him as he came inside, rattling off his schedule for the rest of the day. Her brow arched high over the rim of her glasses. “Adrien?”

Blinking out of his daze, he flushed. “Sorry. I didn’t catch that.”

Her eyes narrowed, efficiently pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you unwell?”

He winced, shaking his head. “I’m maybe a little tired.”

Nathalie’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Perhaps you ought to stay home this afternoon.”

Adrien blanched. “I’m alright. I should be able to go back to school this afternoon. There’s...a test in chemistry and I can’t really afford to fall behind. I can just go lay down for a few minutes until it’s time to head back to class.”

Resigned, she shook her head, fingers already flying over her tablet. “I’ll have the kitchen send you up some soup. I’m going to cancel your afternoon photoshoot, but you need to come straight home to rest.”

Adrien smiled, rushing up the stairs towards his room.

“And Adrien?”

Flinching, he turned back.

“Be sure to bundle up this afternoon. We can’t afford to have you catching a cold.”

The walk back to her house had been quiet. Too quiet.

Far too quiet for the enigmatic grin that practically split Alya’s face.

Marinette fell into nervous rambling, sharing details of some of the designs she had been working on. Anything just to fill the weighty silence.

It seemed like the best way to distract them both from the possibility of Adrien’s little crush.

Alya had to be wrong. She had to be.

Alya just nodded politely, that smirk never entirely leaving her face.

By the time they had reached her house, Marinette naively assumed, she would be safe.

“So tell me, little lady.” Alya grinned, leaning against the kitchen counter. “How on earth did you manage to snag the attention of one Adrien Agreste?”

Groaning, Marinette tapped her head against the refrigerator door. Of course, it had been a little too much to hope that she’d gotten off easy on that one. “I don’t know. I was just worried about him since he seemed to not be feeling well. Honestly, it was just nice to be able to talk to him for a little while without tripping over my words.”

Alya’s smirk died down -- just enough to pat her consolingly on the shoulder. “It seemed to me like he noticed.”

She gulped, feeling nervous, even if the boy in question had to be at least a mile away. “You think so?”

Alya’s lips curved upwards. “I’m pretty sure of it.”

Opening the refrigerator door with a smile so large it nearly hurt, Marinette set about getting out lunch.

Not one to stand about aimlessly, Alya busied herself with helping. “You know...if you were still worried, you could bring him in a bit of your Mom’s soup.”

“Wait. You’re doing what now?”

Marinette blanched. She had been so ecstatic at the sheer possibility that Adrien might actually like her, that she’d let it slip, entirely by accident.

She smiled a little too wide. “A commission?”

Alya was half out of her seat. “I got that part. I was talking about the who.”

Marinette leaned back into hers, searching the ceiling for inspiration. “Well...you know the scarves that Ladybug and Chat Noir have been wearing on patrol?”

“Of course! You know I’ve been dying to get close ups of--” Alya paused, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Marinette. You didn’t…”

She flinched. “I might have been up on my roof working on my presents in the fall.”

“Girl!” Alya gripped the table.

“And she might have stopped to ask for a little help--”

The chair clattered onto the floor, forgotten. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. Thankfully, she’d latched on to this and hadn’t pressed about the knit hat she’d definitely mentioned earlier in her aimless chatter. “How could I? The gift was a surprise for Chat Noir.”

Blinking, Alya backed down, but only just. Her arms crossed over her chest. “Well, he’s had it for a few weeks now. I’ve been getting nothing but blurry patrol pictures for weeks now. When were you going to mention it to m--”

“I wasn’t.”

“Huh?”

“Think about it, Alya.” Marinette murmured, carrying her bowl over to the sink. “I’m happy enough to help Ladybug out. I mean, who would say no to a superhero. But what if Hawkmoth could somehow track her back to me? I don’t want to put my family at risk.”

“That makes sense, I suppose.” Frowning, Alya bent down to pick the chair back up. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to make me one?”

“Of course, I will!” Marinette grinned.

Tapping the tabletop with her nails, Alya snagged her own bowl. “I mean, I guess you should ask permission first. You don’t want Ladybug to be mad at you for making copies of your gift.”

Chuckling, Marinette took the bowl to rinse it. “I doubt she’d mind.”

“I mean, if she didn’t you could probably sell those for a pretty penny.” Alya grinned. “Nothing like saving up for University. Except I guess you still would have that safety issue.”

Nose scrunched up on though, she’d puzzled. “I guess I could change the pattern slightly. So anyone not paying enough attention might think it was just a copy. Except that I put my initials into the edging.”

Alya snorted. “So, you actually managed to sign something.”

“Hey!” Marinette pouted, leaning back against the sink. “I’m getting better at it.”

Alya held up her hands, defensively. “That’s a good thing. Especially since you’d be able to claim your work later...whenever Hawkmoth is finally defeated.”

Lying down on his bed in his room, Nathalie’s words had given him the best idea he’d had in days. If he wore the blue scarf, would she say anything? Could he get her to mention it?

Or to tell him why she never said anything?

It wasn’t something he could ask her as Chat Noir, even if it was far easier to get an answer he could understand from her that way.

Shaking his head, he wound the blue fabric around his neck and grabbed his bag before he ran down to the car.

Marinette and Alya were nearly back to school, before the reality of running a shop in her spare time truly hit her.

Alya rightly pointed out it would be great for her growing portfolio and was already running at full tilt, planning out the hypothetical details.

Marinette only half paid attention to the amazing ideas Alya mentioned, nodding while she was still a little distracted herself.

“And since you have the design sketches, you could put it up for comparison.” Alya frowned. “If you have a picture, that is.”

Marinette smiled ruefully. “It wouldn’t do nearly as much without Ladybug or Chat Noir wearing it.”

Alya grumbled. “Maybe I can clean up one of the blurry patrol shots…”

It was still a pretty big question whether or not this whole thing was a good idea. Marinette knew she was due for a long talk with Tikki about that once school had ended for the day. Ladybug was just as much Tikki as herself, and it wouldn’t be wise to promise a follow through without consulting her kwami.

But maybe, if she was making some extra income, her parents could afford to hire a little extra help for the few hours she’d normally cover.

Frowning, Marinette fiddled with her necklace. Her fingers drifting down over the facets of the gemstone. Maybe, she could put just enough Ladybug and Chat Noir scarves out into Paris to keep Hawkmoth from tracing the real scarves back to herself and Chat Noir’s civilian selves. It certainly wasn’t foolproof, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

So she could actually wear the scarf outside without anyone being any bit the wiser that she herself was Ladybug.

Besides, if Chat Noir dropped in over the next few days, she’d have a little time to get his approval as well.

“Or maybe I could get a picture with one of them if I get their approval.”

“That would be amazing!” Alya grinned wildly. Her best friend seemed almost even more excited about the prospect than she was, but her enthusiasm was infectious. “I’m so excited for you!”

As soon as he was near the drive, Adrien spotted Marinette and Alya on their way into the school. Winding the scarf securely around his neck, he was slow to get out of the car, keeping up the ruse of his illness for the Gorilla’s benefit. He had been anxious to get inside and out of sight.

Nino had been waiting for him, matching his stride as he approached the doorway. “Your Dad should have let you stay home if you weren’t feeling well, Dude.”

Adrien smiled softly, before his mouth slipped behind the pooled, baby blue fabric. “I wanted to come back. My room makes me crazy.”

Nino nodded. “You’ve been looking at those walls for too long.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. His eyes kept tracking back to the girls. It was mostly natural, as they were headed in the same direction as he and Nino.

Alya had an excitement in her expression -- and a bounce in her step -- usually reserved strictly for the LadyBlog. He heard Nino chuckling fondly at his girlfriend’s antics.

But Adrien hadn’t been prepared for the impact of Marinette’s adorable smile and that excited wiggle she did, rocking back and forth on her heels. He froze, his amused smile hidden behind the scarf.

And then he saw Marinette’s fingers, fussing at her neck.

Breathless, Adrien’s jaw dropped. Was she wearing the necklace? His necklace? The one he’d given to Ladybug.

Curiosity spurred him forward, closing the gap between them.

Her fingers kept tangling in the chain anxiously. The barest glimmer of red at her neck erasing any remaining doubt on his part.

And heighting the blush that ran all the way to his ears.

It was almost laughable how much even the tiniest detail should have made the comparison all the more obvious. The wrinkle of her brow that lifted her mask away from her face just so when she’d puzzled a problem. The intelligent light and steel in her eyes. Marinette quite literally physically placed herself in front of whomever she was protecting.

Adrien wasn’t sure when she had looked back at him, but there was a heady second when they both had locked eyes. Time seemed to pass slowly...and slower still in the breathless instant where she had misstepped.

His eyes widened as he read the fall in slow motion.

Instinct made him react -- leaping up the stairs two at a time -- to act just as he would as Chat Noir, protecting his Lady without a second thought.

Not that she knew he knew.

Or that she’d needed him apparently. Marinette’s arms flung out, perhaps not as awkwardly as they had that first day. She’d gotten herself out of plenty of scrapes with the protection of the suit. She’d been panicked in the tense instant, but made the split second decisions that kept her safe.

He was fast. But so was Alya, her arm already slung around Marinette’s shoulder. “You alright, girl?”

Blinking, Marinette tore her eyes from her fierce grip on the handrail, straightening herself back up to full height. “Yeah,” she spoke, her voice still a bit shaky. Embarrassed, she’d looked back at him for the briefest moment before Alya tugged her along up the stairs and towards the classroom. “Just a little clumsy.”

Adrien shook his head, quieting his breathing and his wayward heart rate. He gripped the handrail, to mentally steady himself. He had to remind himself for the hundredth time that Marinette could take care of herself.

He’d been so focused in finding the hints of Ladybug in Marinette, that he’d forgotten it worked the other way as well. That buried in the hero were the adorably awkward hints of his friend.

“Okay, Dude. Where’s the fire?”

Adrien’s shoulders tensed as he turned to stare at his best friend. He hadn’t noticed Nino until he’d punched his shoulder softly, pulling him out of his reverie. “Hm? What fire?”

“I mean, outside of your cheeks.” Nino arched an eyebrow over his smirk. He clearly had been spending way too much time around Alya. “So, I have to ask: When did you get bitten by the bug?”

The bug? Adrien thought he couldn’t blush any harder. He had been wrong.

Coughing, Adrien quieted the impulse to pun. Nino didn’t know just how right he was. His eyes widened with feigned innocence as he regained his breath. “What bug?”

Nino scoffed, tugging his headphones off his ears. “You know what I mean.”

Sighing, Adrien re-adjusted his bag on his shoulder. He wasn’t entirely sure he did. Everything was a lot more complicated than it must appear to anyone else. “You already knew?”

Nino chuckled quietly. “That you finally fell for Marinette, too? It wasn’t like you weren’t making it obvious. And Alya is definitely going to want details.”

Adrien smiled, trudging slowly up the steps. His eyes fell on the classroom room. “I guess it’s been coming on so gradually, I hadn’t really noticed it.”

“You’re going to tell her soon, right?” Nino asked.

“Y-yeah.” Adrien exhaled. “As soon as I figure out how.”

Snorting, Nino ribbed him. “What’s the matter? Weren’t you the one telling me how easy it was to say…’Marinette, I Love You.’” Adrien pressed his hands over Nino’s mouth, just causing Nino to snort with mostly restrained laughter. “Keep it down, will you?”

Alya was torn between the world's most insane eyeroll and lying in wait to see what Sunshine had in store. Seemed like as good a time as any to watch what might very well be her Maid of Honor speech content.

Marinette had locked eyes with Adrien and that boy blushed like she’d never seen him do before. And then the girl turned away trying to convince herself it was just another fluke.

For her part, Alya didn’t buy it. They’d slipped each other a whole pile of notes back and forth during class. Only, Marinette kept making every possible excuse for the boy in front of her, each one more implausible than the last.

The same one who kept sneaking not-so-furtive looks back at her friend, with red tipped ears.

For all his modelling, that boy wore his emotions on his sleeves -- at least here at school.

Seriously, no sick kid in their right mind would come in, given the chance to stay home.

And if the boy actually was sick, clearly something -- or more likely someone -- had convinced him to come in anyways.

Alya huffed in irritation. This was just as bad as when she’d caught great footage just to realize her camera was out of storage. She wasn’t sure just what Nino had seen to make him pull Adrien aside, but if Nino was even half as clever as she was sure he was, he’d put together the not-so-vague puzzle pieces she’d been dropping months ago.

Of course, Adrien had been giving Nino advice about getting together with Marinette. Nino had never dropped the details of whatever Adrien had said, but his smirk was just the tiniest bit ruthless.

Snickering, Alya leaned back in her seat, certain that her boyfriend was enjoying a well earned dose of positive karma.

Besides, if all went well, double dates would be super convenient.

In spite of the fact that the classroom was a little overly warm and his own cheeks were still obviously flushed, Adrien still insisted on wearing the scarf in class.

Marinette definitely noticed. While she stubbornly refused to say a single word, she blushed prettily. A secret smile curved Marinette’s lips when their eyes meet. Was she somehow still a little too shy to mention it because of her crush? Or was she just bent on keeping up the ruse for Adrien’s benefit?

What Marinette seemed to miss was the fact that Adrien kept running his fingers absently along the edge of the fabric.

Alya frowned. Maybe it was just a bit harder for her to see it from her angle.

When Madame Bustier clearly angled for a partner exercise, Alya jumped to partner with Adrien in French class.

Nino just raised his eyebrows and turned towards Marinette, who shrugged and pulled the now vacant chair over next to his.

Adrien sighed as he dropped into the chair Marinette had just been sitting in. He really had been hoping to get some level of reaction out of his partner, but she remained just as enigmatic as ever.

Alya smirked. “You finally noticed, did you?”

His hands gripped the desk, unsure just what Alya thought she caught him doing. “Hm?”

“You saw the embroidery on the scarf…” The redhead sighed wearily. “I swear, you kept playing with the edge of it for far too long for me not to have noticed.”

Adrien scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yep. It was totally all me. No help from anyone...haha!”

“And?”

Blinking, Adrien drew back, quieting his voice as Madame Bustier at least was peering over in their direction.. “And what?”

She snorted, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned back in her chair. “Does it bother you that she made it?”

“Of course not,” he whispered. “I just can’t understand why she wouldn’t have told me.”

“Adrien.” Alya sighed wearily, putting on the same expression he’d seen her wear when she’d been helping to babysit the little girl he’d modeled with a while back. “Marinette is way too sweet to tell you, especially after you sounded so happy when you thought it came from your father. She’d dropped the present off at your house, but there must have been some sort of mix up. When Nino was Akumatized, she went inside to put her name on the wrapping. She’s notoriously bad at signing her name on anything.”

Adrien tapped the embroidery. “Not entirely, clearly.”

Alya shrugged. “She definitely sent you a card that I’m pretty sure she didn’t sign. It’s basically a bad habit with her. Well...one of them, anyways.”

Adrien tilted his head, considering that new little piece of the puzzle. Of course, there was only one card he could think of that came to him unsigned.

That Valentine’s Day card.

The one he had hoped was from Ladybug.

He tugged the scarf away from his neck, feeling suddenly a little overwarm. It was taking every last scrap of energy to keep from laughing giddily and collapsing back into his chair.

After French class had ended, Marinette dug out a thermos of soup from her bag she’d brought from home, setting it on the desk in front of him. Adrien lost the battle for his composure, his bright red blush making even Madame Bustier concerned. She sent him down to the nurse’s office for the rest of the day, and the Gorilla had come to pick him back up on short order.

He was embarrassed for sure, flopping down onto the bed to curse himself for a fool.

Plagg had only poked fun at him for a moment before diving into his stash of Camembert.

But it was all worth it when Alya had sent notes for the rest of the classes of the day.

A photo of what had to be Marinette’s notes, if the sketches in the side columns were any indication.

Eyes wide, Adrien jumped out of bed, dashing over to his desk drawer. It hadn’t taken long for him to pull out the heart-shaped card. He sat in rapt fascination, poring over every slope and space and letter shape on the page, comparing them to the photos he’d transferred to his computer.

Every single letter left him a little more certain.

And a little more smitten.

Chapter Text

After some nagging and prodding, Plagg finally got Adrien to stop pacing long enough to sit down and eat the soup his little girlfriend had given him.

At intervals, the kid would drop down into his desk chair, picking up the poem from his desk and spinning the chair absently.

Plagg sighed. It was enough to make him start to feel dizzy. “Kid, you need to tell her. Continuing to put it off like this will just make things worse.”

Adrien fingers smoothed over the glossy side of the card. “I just want to understand her a little bit more. I mean, she must have gotten ahold of the poem I’d thrown away...somehow. And answered it.”

“And that’s a problem?” Plagg snorted. “What are you worried about? She likes you.”

“She likes Adrien.” He frowned. “But I rarely get to really be myself around her. What about me does she really know to like?”

Plagg shrugged. “There’s a simple solution to that.”

“What?”

“Go be around her as Chat Noir. Find out how she treats you as Chat Noir.”

“Huh.” He was far less awkward and blushy around her as Chat Noir...even if that was mostly because his mask mostly hid his face.

Adrien was on his feet, ready to move in an instant. Suspicious, his eyes narrowed at Plagg. “This is just a ploy for more Camembert, isn’t it?”

The kwami shrugged. “I’m not going to turn it down.”

Adrien just rolled his eyes as he walked across the room.

“But the more you drag all of this out, the more likely Tikki will hold it over me.”

“Tikki?” Adrien frowned, leaning down into the mini-fridge.

“Her Kwami.” Plagg’s smile was rare and genuine. “My other half.”

Adrien softened at that, tossing him a chunk of Camembert. “Is she like you?”

Plagg’s grin widened. “She’s not nearly as fun.”

Adrien snorted. “Well, that explains Ladybug.”

“More than you know, Kid.” Plagg chuckled, between bites. “As free as you are as Chat Noir, she has that latitude as her civilian self. Ladybug bears all the heavy responsibility. If I know Tikki, she will have made sure of it.”

Anxious, Chat Noir sprinted towards Marinette’s balcony, vaulting over the occasional chimney. Nightfall hadn’t come fast enough. It wasn’t a usual patrol night and since the Ladyblog was quiet, he was fairly certain he knew where to find her.

Even the soup she’d given him had been amazing. Not that he could tell her without her probably chucking him bodily out of her room.

And she could do it, too. He had no doubt.

Chat sighed, weaving over the road below. He knew Plagg was right. He had to fix this. He even wanted to, but it was like his own tongue was entirely unwilling to cooperate and let him just talk to her normally.

Marinette had been this amazing friend all along...and it never used to be so hard to talk to her. But now that he knew just how amazing she was. That she was the same girl who fought her fears to call out the villain and save the day -- over and over again -- despite incredibly long odds. He had long since put her up on a pedestal because of that. Not that it had blinded him to her flaws and her failings. That’s why he was there beside her. To see them and block them as an equal partner. To point them out to her and to have faith in the good person that she was to make the right choices.

And she liked him! Well, model him anyways.

Enough to send him a valentine at least!

He had been ecstatic -- at first. But the pile of valentines he’d gotten were nothing new.

For years now -- enough to make it feel a little weird, to be honest -- girls had been sending in postcards and fanmail.

And the past year he’d spent building their friendship had been lovely. And if she had been a little nervous around him, he could definitely understand it now.

But as they’d only gotten a few chances to talk, he still couldn’t exactly fathom just why she’d liked him.

He was happy for sure...but as always, Ladybug and Marinette was an absolute puzzle.

Lucky for him, he liked puzzles. And he really just liked her.

Chat Noir was pacing again on her roof, his hair blowing slightly in the windy night.

He hadn’t tried to be quiet and mask his presence, not when he was here under the pretense of getting her help with the commission.

He’d even spent time coming up with ideas. Not that he was sure he could use any of them. Plagg wasn’t exactly a reliable muse. (Legwarmers? Really?) And creativity wasn’t exactly one of his talents.

Hers on the other hand.

He shook his head, pacing the short span again. His gaze travelling out over the Seine. He definitely felt a bit more in control of his feelings and his mouth with a little more time under his belt and the relative safety of the mask in place.

Chat Noir stretched, jumping slightly when the hatch door creaked open.

“Chaton?” His gaze was drawn instantly to hers, crystal blue eyes dimly lit from the glow of her room below.

He swallowed the lump that formed as she smiled, tilting her head slightly.

“Think you have a little time to talk about that commission?”

Chat Noir tugged a small wad of Euros from the zippered pocket on his chest as he dropped down onto the rug at the center of her room..

Marinette gaped at all. “Chat Noir! This is entirely too much!”

His claws ruffled the hair at the base of his scalp awkwardly. His own smile grew rueful at those familiar words. “I admit, I’m not terribly well versed in what these kinds of things might cost. But I do know it can take a while. And you did make four scarves for Ladybug.”

Marinette struggled to recover her bearings.

Curious, he inclined his head. Clearly she had been generous with her time. He wanted to be sure she was appropriately compensated for her time and trouble. “How long did that take you?”

“I don’t know...maybe a couple of weeks. An hour or two here and there?”

“So you did a lot of work for that.” Chat Noir grinned. “How much did Ladybug pay for each one? I’d like to at least make sure you get as much.”

“I got something out of the deal with Ladybug.” She murmured. Her face was an odd mix of emotions...most of which he couldn’t entirely place.. But he didn’t miss the flush of rosy pink on her cheeks. “Is that what this commission will be for? A gift?”

Silently, Chat Noir nodded. He was certain he was blushing, too. But he didn’t care. It would be nice to actually to commission her to make something she wanted...even just to keep up the ruse for a little while longer.

It was nice to just spend time with her in these quieter moments.

Her decision to accept the commission was just that much more meaningful.

“Do you trust me?”

Chat Noir didn’t hesitate. “Yes?”

Marinette grabbed her arm, tucking it closely in to her side, distantly staring at the floor as if lost in thought before she suddenly sprang into action. Her jaw set as she strode with a purpose over to her desk. “Let’s talk about what you might want to commission, first.”

She tugged a well-worn sketchbook out of her desk drawer, sitting down and breaking out her pencil case. “I thought it might be nice to have a hat to go with the scarf?”

He crowded in, peering over her shoulder at the sketch she was working on without even thinking about it. In costume, in the middle of battle, this sort of close proximity was natural.

But then she looked up at him with a smirk that was pure Ladybug, filled with confidence and quirky humor, as she stroked one of his ears. “I mean, it wouldn’t work nearly as well for you. Not with those ears.”

Chat Noir backpedalled, a cough racking his body, as he tried -- and failed -- to mask the growing blush on his face.

She couldn’t just do that to him.

Marinette frowned as her partner coughed pitifully.

He must still be recovering from his cold. His voice had already cracked twice since she’d found him pacing her rooftop.

Sighing, she got up out of her chair, gesturing for him to sit down. “I’m going to get something to drink. Do you need anything?”

“I’m okay. Thank you, Marinette.” He was oddly quiet, not quite meeting her eyes, which made her even more sure she needed to hurry.

“I’ll be right back.” She murmured.

Nodding, he obediently dropped down into her desk chair.

Shaking her head, Marinette sped down the stairs to the kitchen.

Why couldn’t her partner take better care of himself? It was altogether too sweet of him to try to arrange a gift for her. Even if he didn’t realize he was asking her to make it herself.

But not at the expense of his own health.

Paris needed him.

She needed him.

Biting her lip, she opened the door of the fridge.

Tikki had ducked out of her pocket and was furtively on look out for her parents, while she heated up the late night bowl of soup.

Chat Noir clearly had some money put aside, although she couldn’t really ask how he had come by it. While he could be a terrible show off, he’d never given much other hint of his own civilian life.

As Ladybug, she was grateful for that level of restraint...but right now that was making life a little inconvenient. He was trying to spend a little too much money on his partner.

And she wasn’t sure just how worried to be about that.

Tikki snuggled up next to her. “He’ll be alright, Marinette. Isn’t he always telling you how many lives he has.”

Marinette snickered at that and pulled the soup container out of the refridgerator.

The one sketch she’d left open on the sketchpad was wonderful, but Chat Noir was nothing if not curious.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t respectful enough of her things not to pry. The last thing he wanted to do was to damage her trust. Especially when he was so close to telling her that he knew some of her secrets.

Not while he was so close to being ready to share his own.

And, if all went well, he’d actually be able to just talk with her like this often enough to hear it from her own lips.

His claws rapped against the desk, trying desperately to find something else to draw his attention.

Her physics homework sat open on the edge of her desk, the problem sheet half finished. Marinette must have been working on it before he had interrupted.

He had finished his own quickly earlier. After the nurse had sent him home, he had more than enough time to finish all his own homework and then to fret about what exactly to say to Marinette.

Frowning, he fidgeted, noticed an error in her calculations.

He was so tempted to help. He knew all too well that physics wasn’t exactly Marinette’s forte. She certainly had the instinctive bit down in terms of handling her yo-yo, but on the textbook side of things…

Maybe that would be a good way to kind of hint at who he was. To slowly build out the foundation of ideas, until he was sure that she had to be certain of who he was.

Satisfied, he sank back in the desk chair to wait.

And wait.

Chat Noir sighed, wondering what was taking so long.

Wondering if he should go down and help.

He could hear the noise from the kitchen below. His sensitive ears picking up both Marinette and a slightly higher voice on occasion.

Blinking, Chat decided against helping. He even tried to tune out their voices, spinning his feet beneath the desk chair.

Only to find his own face staring back at him.

Chat Noir gaped, slack-jawed and staring incredulously at the all too familiar faces. Had he not been sitting down, he probably would have fallen over.

It was almost like looking at himself in the mirror each evening.

He shuffled forward, up out of the chair dazed and in disbelief.

Not all of these were the best pictures, either.

Sucking in a quick breath, he looked around the room. Not all of the pictures she’d had up were of him. There were a few of Marinette and Alya, of the group of girls posing. Even one of Marinette and Alya and Nino on one of the days he must have had to pass up.

But all of the pictures she’d had up were ones clipped from magazines.

Chat swallowed, his claws lightly passing over the thin magazine print.

How?

Blinking, his eyes snapped back to the wall of clippings. How had he totally somehow missed seeing this when he was here before?

He definitely had been in here before as Chat Noir. But then, things were always so chaotic mid-battle…

She definitely hadn’t had it up when he’d come up to practice for the video game tournament. He would have noticed that for sure.

He lips curved in amusement. She did say she had to straighten up that day, too.

Just like she had one the day he’d spotted her scarf -- the one kept by Ladybug herself -- on her dresser.

He’d spun around, away from this wall that day. Simply because she’d asked. He didn’t even think to question it...it was her room after all.

Her room where she’d knitted the scarves. Her room where she’d written that poem...speaking of her wish to know him better.

Her room where she’d invited him in. Where she’d trusted him to stay put.

He thought he had been floored when he’d figured out who she was.

He thought he understood so well.

Clasping hands to his chest, he shuffled backwards, sinking back down onto the desk chair. Blushing all the while.

Marinette had a crush on him.

Ladybug had a crush on him!

One of his gloved hands clamped over his mouth, as his wayward humor caught up with him his eyes dancing merrily back up towards the wall.

He had been right. She had fallen for him.

He just still had not the slightest clue when...or why.

Marinette winced as the floorboards creaked under her slight weight. She’d been so careful about keeping quiet. It would be awful to have her parents wake up to ask why she’d been in the kitchen so late.

Exhaling, she steadied herself, balancing the bowl in one hand and a glass of water in the other. She shuffled up the stairs as softly as she could manage.

She had left the access door open so she could easily get back in without assistance. Carefully she set the bowl and glass down so she could step in herself and softly shut the door behind herself.

Marinette hadn’t expected the shock so evident on Chat Noir’s face...or the direction of his gaze.

Her eyes widened, gripping the floorboards to stifle the scream building deep within her lungs into a sharp gasp. She’d been so distracted in the details of getting him something for his throat...that she’d entirely forgotten about the wall.

She rocked backwards, her heart racing.

Marinette wasn’t sure when he noticed her come up, but he’d leapt across the short distance. Offering her a hand if she needed it. “You alright?”

She paled, nodding as she accepted his clawed hand as balance to get herself up into her room. Quickly, she turned around to shut the trap door behind them. Trying rather desperately not to groan aloud.

If there was anything she’d been expecting from Chat Noir -- in this nightmare scenario where he’d spotted her wall of Adrien Agreste -- it was relentless teasing.

And her parents were sure to notice the noise.

But he didn’t tease. He didn’t even say a word, just had this silly, soft smile on his face -- which to her was just as jarring.

Instead, he bent down, picking up the bowl of soup and the glass and pulling out the chair for her to sit down at her desk.

She shook her head. “That soup is for you, Chaton.”

The soup was an absolute godsend.

It gave him an excuse to think quietly as he tried to figure out how to ask her what he wanted to know.

He hadn’t been prepared to know about her crush, and that tendency to be a little tongue tied around her was returning with a vengeance.

He peered over at her as he scooped up another bite.

Marinette was still blushing fiercely, burying her hear behind her sketchbook, the soft scratch of her pencil across the page filling the silence.

It was fascinating just watching her work. Her chin jutted out as she mulled an irritating quandry with her design. It was a little uncanny just how much this felt like being in the middle of a battle, without the tension forcing them apart from one another.

Maybe this would be what it was like just to hang out together. Once he could finally put all of his cards out on the table.

“So.” Chat coughed, his voice a little strangled. “You’re a fan.”

Her eyes simmered back over the page. He’d seen that look before on Ladybug. Usually when she was just about to throw something at him.

Or to throw him.

His brows rose, projecting an air of innocence he usually could get away with outside of the mask. “Of fashion?”

Marinette smiled softly, fire clear in her eyes. “Of course I am. I really want to be a fashion designer.” She got a little more quiet. “Gabriel is one of the biggest houses in Paris right now, so of course, I am following it.”

Chat smirked. If anyone could pull it off, it was Marinette. “And a fan of his son?”

She rolled her eyes, but he couldn’t help but notice that blush growing stronger, even as she tried not to pay him any mind.

He set his spoon down noisily. “Then why just him? I’m sure there are more models that work for such a big name?”He could definitely name at least ten offhand who he had worked with on occasion.

Her blue eyes flashed. “He’s a friend.”

Chat Noir felt his breath catch. His eyes grew wide, as he felt his belly warm at the words.

“It’s just…” She smiled, letting the sketchbook fall down into her lap. “He must have to work like crazy. I know one of his other friends tries to get him out of the house all the time, but his Dad is really strict. And even with all of that, he doesn’t really complain. He’s just really sweet and kind.”

His feet shuffled, absently spinning the chair as he tried to come to terms with this new information.

“I’m not just a fan…” Marinette murmured. “He could have just been a stuck up rich kid. In fact, I thought he was a first.”

His head was already spinning, so the action had him feeling far more grounded. But he had to press forward. He had to know. “What changed?”

Her eyes were distant, her head dropping down on her knees. “He didn’t let me keep the bad opinion I formed. He even sent me home with his umbrella when I’d forgotten one.”

Chat Noir wasn’t sure of much...anymore. Even the night air felt changed, electric around him with newfound awareness as he rushed across the rooftops.

He was only certain of one thing. Marinette had never hated him.

Well, maybe just that first day, when she’d misunderstood his intentions with the gum on her seat.

But she made him the blue scarf because she liked him. Because he’d been able to be honest, as his civilian self.

And all without realizing it, he’d been getting in his own way ever since.

Chat sighed, as he dropped onto the floor in his own room.

De-transforming in a flash of green light, he tugged off the red and black spotted scarf from his neck.

Inspiration struck without warning.

He would have to borrow a little luck from his Lady, but she would certainly know soon enough.

Chapter Text

Adrien strode down the halls, his bag swinging in time with his rapid pace.

“Slow down, kid.” Plagg grumbled audibly, poking his tiny black head out of the bag. “You’re already late and now you’re just making me dizzy.”

Adrien peered around, sighing in relief when he saw that there was no one else in the hallways. “I move faster than this all the time.”

Groaning, Plagg’s stubby paws gripped the side of the bag to steady himself. “Yeah, but you’re usually borrowing my powers. But if you’d like me to vomit in your bag, please continue.”

Sighing, Adrien slowed down. “Better?”

“Yes.” Plagg nodded. “Although I’m not still sure why you couldn’t have stopped by the kitchen this morning to get me popcorn.”

Reflexively, Adrien fussed with his hair, grumbling himself when he realized what he had just done. So what if he spent a little longer than usual in front of his mirror this morning, preparing to head in. He wanted his hair to be just right.

He wanted everything to be just right.

“You know there wasn’t time, Plagg.” He had only just finished winding his scarf around his neck as Nathalie knocked furiously at the door, all too close to dragging him bodily out to the waiting car.

“You say that, but your Father wasn’t even around to care.” Plagg snickered. “If he was so concerned about your school attendance, you wouldn’t have quite so many photoshoots during the day.”

Father had been away at a conference until later this afternoon, so at least he couldn’t be yelled at for being late to school until after his plan was set into motion.

“Why do you need popcorn anyways?” He scowled, hissing down at his bag as he stopped on the stairs.

Plagg cackled, loudly enough that Adrien feared it would echo through the courtyard. “I told you. You shouldn’t have waited so long.”

Adrien chewed the inside of his cheek nervously. It was his own misgivings...his own fears kept getting in the way. Not to mention this nasty, growing compulsion to blush and stammer whenever Marinette was near. All in all, it left him sure he couldn’t quite trust his own words. “You think Marinette is going to be mad?”

“All I know is that Tikki’s choice is strong. And unpredictable.” Plagg chuckled. “That alone makes me sure I want to see her face once she realizes your plan.”

Adrien’s shoulders fell. He re-adjusted the weight of the bag on his shoulder as he started up the stairs. He moved his free arm over the side to tuck his kwami’s head back into the bag. It would just be his luck if any of the teachers thought to look out their classroom window.

It occurred to him during his sprint and vault home last night, that he didn’t always need words to communicate with Ladybug.

She just need to realize who he was -- really was -- behind the mask. Adrien had no doubt Marinette would put the pieces together.

He just hated that he wouldn’t be able to see it.

It wasn’t often that Marinette was already in her seat before the love of her life walked in.

She spent the first ten minutes of class staring at the empty seat in front of her, wondering if Adrien was going to be out sick again today.

Not even Nino had gotten a text message from him this morning. So maybe he was still asleep in bed, recovering from whatever was going around.

Stifling her own disappointment, Marinette buckled down, focusing on the start of Madame Bustier’s lecture.

She was still be finishing up her notes when he walked in, calm as you please.

“Thank you for joining us, Adrien.” Madame Bustier’s frown was clear in her tone.

His head bowed slightly, as he slid down into his chair. “Sorry for the interruption.”

Marinette couldn’t help but smile, watching him from the corner of her eye as her pen scrawled across the page, finishing up the last snippet. At least, he had to be feeling better.

He turned in his seat, a genuine, sunny smile brightening his whole face as he placed the freshly-cleaned thermos on her desk.

Marinette smiled widely, barely keeping the nervous giggle from slipping past her lips.

“Thank you for the soup,” he whispered softly.

“You’re welcome.” She nodded, careful not to draw Madame Bustier’s ire.

The smile ebbed away from Adrien’s eyes as he turned back around, digging out his own notebook from his school bag.

It was only half a minute later, that the strangled squeak slipped past Marinette’s throat.

In the middle of class, there was not much else she could do in the moment, while Madame Bustier continued her lecture without the slightest hint of her distress.

Marinette’s knuckles paled as she gripped the desk.

She sat, breathless and unmoving. Her eyes were wide and hyper focused, as she stared at the scarf around the neck in front of her.

She knew every single red and black stitch.

That was the scarf she had given to Chat Noir.

But it was Adrien wearing it.

Adrien!

Her heart lurched, as if she had just raced the rooftops of Paris -- without the suit to protect her.

Chat Noir would never give up his scarf. Not unless he had a good reason. Or unless he’d dropped it.

And Chat never said so much as a word when he’d visited her last night.

Marinette bit her lip, brushing her thumb anxiously over the smooth facets of the pendant at her neck. That had to mean that Chat Noir was Adrien.

That she’d talked about her crush on Adrien -- to Adrien.

Her fingers dropped the stone as if it burned, her face flushing furiously.

Burying her face behind her hands, Marinette grew desperate to settle her breathing. Where was an Akuma Alert when she’d needed one?

Peeking through splayed fingers, she peeked back at the boy in front of her. A slim hand ruffled the shock of blonde hair at the nape of his neck, making it ever more familiar by the moment.

Her stomach gave way to the wave of butterflies. These were not the dark and malicious ones they battled together….but they did leave her just as unsettled.

Marinette exhaled carefully, bringing her hands down to her desk. On second though...raincheck on the Akuma.

She didn’t think her heart could take it at the moment.

Alya frowned, watching Marinette with narrowed eyes. Marinette blushing was nothing new.

Panicking...that wasn’t new either.

But it was a little difficult watching her best friend get so embarrassed and upset.

Sighing, Alya leaned back in her chair and looked up at the clock. Marinette was lucky they were in Madame Bustier’s class right now. Madame Mendeleiev would eat her alive if she was still fretting and fidgeting in the next hour.

When Madame Bustier had bid them adieu, Alya spotted her chance, grabbing Marinette by the arm.

“C’mon, girl.”

‘Huh?’” Marinette squeaked eloquently, half tripping down the stairs.

Nino frowned at them. “Where are you off to? Mendeleiev will be here in like three minutes.”

“No worries. We’ll only be two.” Alya winked at him, noting with relish that his seatmate was entirely focused on Marinette. She was shuffling awkwardly beside her, sneaking another peek over at her crush.

Sighing, Alya tugged her out the door. There would be plenty of time for the pair of them to make eyes at each other later.

After she got all this mess untangled.

Marinette blushed straight to her roots in the hallway. She hadn’t been prepared for the full weight of Adrien’s gaze on her as Alya pulled her out of the classroom.

Or for the way his face fell as she’d left.

She was never more sure that Adrien was Chat Noir than in that moment.

She may not have stopped, the times she sped away to outrace her detransformation. But it didn’t mean she never looked back.

Alya tugged her into the restrooms quickly.

Marinette blinked as Alya calmly set her hands on her shoulders once they were safely out of the hallway.

“Are you okay?”

Marinette exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I will be. Eventually.”

Drawing back half a step, Alya sighed. “It’s really isn’t a big deal.”

Shaking her head, Marinette leaned against the sinks, letting her head fall forward as she willed some sense of normalcy to fall into place.

She had to get her head on straight. Hawkmoth had been quiet for a few days, but that had never lasted long in the past.

“Seriously, girl.” Alya crossed her arms over her chest. “So what if you gave the first scarf to Adrien? That just means Ladybug must have approved, right?”

Her eyes widened with a vengeance. She had completely forgotten her promise to Alya, in the whole of this mess.

Marinette chuckled as her brain connected the dots a beat too slow. “Yeah, she did. I was still kind of waiting to hear from Chat Noir, though.”

Alya grinned. “Well, I suppose I can’t pick on you too much since the first one went to Adrien.”

Marinette frowned, checking her reflection in the mirror. Alya would never know that she was definitely getting the first one she made that wasn’t for Paris’ superheroes. She never could know. "He gave me puppy eyes, Alya.”

Sighing, Alya’s hand fell back on your shoulder. “I know, I know. You have no sort of defense against that.”

Alya snorted. “Girl, you have no defense against him.”

The rueful giggle burst past her lips.

Her friend might never know just how true those words were.

Far more steady and sure, Marinette and Alya sprinted back to the classroom -- just in time to beat Madame Mendeleiev before she closed the door to start the lesson.

Adrien’s eyes had followed her up the stairs. She was sure of it. Just as she was sure she would have to talk to him. And soon.

But it might be nice to have a moment to process all of this. It wasn’t every day that you found out you had a crush on your best friend.

Especially not when you hadn’t the slightest clue they were one in the same all along.

Absently, she dropped her hand to her purse. Marinette bit her lip, wondering what Tikki must make of all of this.

Her attention popped back up to focus on the lecture, but her gaze kept wandering back to Adrien. He was hunched over and drawn in on himself. Her poor kitty still had to be feeling under the weather to still be so bundled up.

She sighed heavily. She still wasn’t sure what had possessed him to wear that scarf.

The hour crawled until lunch time finally arrived.

The four of them had gathered up their bags and stepped out into the hallway when Nino finally noticed something out of place. “Dude. Is that a new scarf?”

Adrien chuckled awkwardly, the most adorable blush popping onto his cheeks.

Marinette watched in fascination as she and Alya trailed a few steps behind the boys.

“Umm. Yeah. I guess my blue one was put into the wash. And since I was home yesterday, Nathalie insisted I be bundled up before I headed out of the house this morning.”

Marinette breathed a little easier. That was a little reassuring. Chat Noir could be reckless, but usually it was in the spur of the moment, in the middle of battle.

At least he must have realized it was risky...but if he was sick he had to wear something.

She’d spent the last year watching him...and today he was a lot more fidgety than normal. As much as she’d watched him as Adrien over the year, she knew him as Chat Noir.

Adrien must not have had any other option.

He had no way to know that he’d given away his own secret identity. He certainly had no idea that his own partner was literally sitting right behind him.

Her confusion must have played out over her face. Because Alya asked the question

"Inquiring minds want to know,” Alya leaned in, not-quite-whispering conspiratorially to Adrien on their way out of the building for lunch. "Where did you get that scarf?"

“Ah.” Adrien broke into a slow, mischievous smile that was only missing the mask and glowing eyes. He glanced back at her only a second, before he winked at Alya. "I believe this one came from a fan."

Marinette’s jaw dropped, shock swallowing her scream as she went flame red, right to her ears.

Alya’s self-satisfied smirk was entirely unnecessary. As was her barely suppressed cackle as she walked with Marinette back to the bakery for lunch.

At least Alya had been understanding when she said she wanted a little time alone to think.

“Aww.” Alya cooed. “At least it’s all positive. Even if you did have to pick your jaw up off the floor.”

“He winked, Alya.” Marinette whined, burying her face on Alya’s shoulder. “Winked.”

“There, there.” Alya snickered, patting her. “One of these days, you’ll get used to all that. And then he’ll really be in trouble.”

“Somehow, I doubt it.” Marinette grumbled.

“Girl. I’ve seen you stand toe to toe with Chloe at her level worst. And Adrien has too. Don’t underestimate yourself.”

Alya ruffled her hair and headed towards her crossing. “See you in an hour.”

Marinette waved back. “Deal.”

After popping her head in the bakery to check in, Marinette headed up to the kitchen to grab lunch.

Tikki darted out of her purse just as soon as they had cleared the inside door.

Tikki’s blue eyes were puzzled, as she sat down beside Marinette’s plate with her cookie.

“I don’t understand what he’s up to.”

“I’m not sure that he is up to anything, Tikki.” Marinette frowned, pulling out the chair and sitting down. “You heard Adrien yourself. It was the only thing he’d had at hand.”

Tikki sighed heavily. “I still don’t like it. There was already the risk of distraction...or of unintentional betrayal before. Now that you’re both clearly sweet on each other...”

“Wait.” Marinette blinked, stopping in the middle of heating up her lunch. “What?”

Tikki’s eyes narrowed.

“I mean, I know I have a crush on Adrien. And Chat Noir has been a wonderful friend and partner.”

But as Chat Noir? After this last year, there was hardly anyone else in her life that she knew better.

And -- what’s more -- because she knew who he was behind the mask, she had a better sense of how to help Adrien without it. A better sense of what would make Chat Noir smile that sad smile she pretended not to see. She understood both of the boys with such a strong presence in her life much better with the stark realization that they were one in the same.

Marinette fidgeted, tapping her toes on the floorboard. She might not have caught much of the lesson Madame Bustier attempted to teach her this morning. But the lesson she had pieced together herself over the hour had proven much more valuable.

“Marinette, Chat Noir has been flirting with you for ages. I don’t know when he started, and I can’t see as much while transformed. But even I have seen Alya’s blog posts.”

She hardly got to blow out an exasperated breath. “That was Ladybug he was flirting with.”

Tikki crossed her stubby arms over her chest. “That’s really the same thing, isn’t it? Besides, he was definitely talking about you with all the ‘fan’ business.”

Marinette dropped her head onto her arms atop the kitchen table, pouting slightly. “But he doesn’t have any idea that I am Ladybug. And he still shouldn’t. Right?”

Tikki frowned. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Huh?’ Marinette was flummoxed. “But I thought secrecy was the most important thing.”

“It usually is,” Tikki confirmed. “But it remains to be seen if keeping the secret now will help more than hurt. You’ve worried enough when Chat Noir has taken a hit for you in the past. I worry how you might handle it mid-battle.”

Marinette blanched, setting her soup spoon down on the table. The memories of some of those attacks where Chat Noir pushed her out of harm’s way always stuck with her. But to now see Adrien’s face in place of Chat’s mask? She shuddered, feeling more than a little ill. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

Tikki nodded sagely. “If you want to tell him, you have my permission.”

Blowing out a terse breath, Marinette slumped back into her chair. “And of course, I could only tell just him, which is nearly impossible at school. Even if Nino would step away from Adrien’s side for a bit, Chloe is sure to jump at the chance.”

Tikki smiled. “So. What is your plan?”

She grinned, picking up her spoon to finish eating as quickly as she could manage.

Half an hour later, Marinette walked back to school with Alya, her backpack just the slightest bit heavier. Alya chattered away happily on their plans to head to the movie this weekend.

Marinette grinned, as her hand held onto her backpack strap. She couldn’t help but image Adrien’s normally more subdued expressions being replaced with Chat Noir’s unrestrained reactions.

Adrien would be shocked for sure.

But she needed to tell him. It was only fair that he understand why she might get distracted mid-battle.

Worrying her lip, Marinette quashed the mildly sick feeling in her stomach, as they walked together up the steps to the school’s entrance.

She inhaled, steadying herself. Adrien would know.

He would know that she was his partner.

He would know about her crush.

He had to know...even if that stupid cat would probably even tease her about her crush mercilessly.

But Tikki was absolutely right. Their safety -- and the safety of the people of Paris -- was the utmost priority.

And anything that would keep Adrien -- her Chaton, she mentally corrected with a secret smile -- safe, was definitely a positive in her book.

Marinette smiled nervously as she sank down into her seat, watching the door carefully, waiting for her secret partner (and not-so-secret crush) to walk through that door himself.

She dug out her books, very careful to shuffle around the green and black scarf.

The very best part about it was the fact that not even her own nervousness could screw this up.

Chapter Text

The whole of his drive home for lunch, not a single thing could tug the soft smile from his face.

Marinette had been so adorably flustered.

Adrien hadn’t been able to hold back the wink. Maybe it was from spending a little too much time in the transformation, but he had felt the urge to bat at her pigtails.

He knew that behind that stammer and that blush was the same girl who could tie his own stomach into knots. The one who could match his punches -- and his jokes -- without missing a beat.

As Ladybug, she’d seemed to be almost entirely immune to his charms.

But now he knew better.

And what’s more -- so did she. Marinette was much too proud to stay silent on it for too long.

Whistling happily, Adrien practically hopped up each of the stairs to the front door. The Gorilla had opened it for him as he tugged the scarf away from his neck, folding it carefully to be placed back in the foyer closet for when he would head back to school within the hour.

“Adrien.”

He flinched, feeling his smile ebb away. Didn’t Nathalie say Father wouldn’t be home until late this evening.

Slowly, he turned, his gaze meeting the ice blue eyes at the top of the stairs. There was a thread of calm in his father’s voice that belied the steel beneath it. “Go to your room. You will spend the rest of the day there.“

Adrien gaped, his fingernails biting into the handrail. He had to go back. Marinette would be waiting. “But...I have classes this afternoon.”

“So you do.” With preternatural calm, his father’s eyes slowly narrowed, assessing him, before they dropped to the scarlet fabric still in his hands. “But your attendance at the public school is a privilege. One you have clearly abused by failing to follow my rules in my absence by wearing that gaudy scarf.”

Adrien scowled on Marinette’s behalf. Her work was amazing. “Father, you had no issue with the scarf I was wearing just a few days ago.”

“I did not.” Gabriel leveled his glare. “But the color matched within reason. Your choices reflect both on our family and the family business.”

Adrien’s eyes rounded, gasping. “No, father!”

“We have discussed this before. You know very well that scarf was to never leave this house. Your face represents the Gabriel brand. If you cannot abide by the rules I have set out for you, then I cannot trust you to attend classes outside of the house.” Gabriel pressed his lips into a thin line, nodding to his chauffeur/bodyguard. “See him to his room.”

Scowling, Adrien held fast to that scarf, as he ascended the stairs towards his room, the Gorilla dogging his footsteps.

He grit his teeth. He had to find some way to get out of there.

To get to her.

Staring at the empty desk in front of her did very little to settle her nerves. Marinette tapped her pencil absently upon the desk, until Madame Mendeliev scowled at her pointedly.

With a soft sigh, she dropped her eyes back to the mostly blank pages.

Trying to process her worries had been difficult enough. But for him to not return, after she was sure that he’d revealed himself… Marinette bit her lip. She couldn’t help but be worried.

Adrien -- Chat Noir -- knew her own feelings on the matter. As Ladybug, she’d told him countless times that keeping the secret of their identities was paramount. He certainly didn’t know who she was or he would have surely mentioned it already. And she’d always been diligent about transforming out of sight -- or at least as the crowd was actively scrambling away from the scene.

She tried to focus -- but the better part of the day was likely a lost cause.

A glance over to Alya proved to be encouraging. At least she was able to keep up with the notes.

Wearily, she shut her eyes. All these revelations were draining. It was far more important to keep all her mental reserves just in case Ladybug was needed to protect Paris.

It was hard enough just puzzling out how to save the world.

But now she knew she’d be far more worried about her partner than ever before.

Not even an hour into his afternoon at home, Adrien was literally climbing the walls.

It’s not like he could do much of anything else at the moment. Frustrated though he was, he quickly realized that he couldn’t leave. He knows exactly where Ladybug would be: in school, sitting just behind where he ought to be.

He didn’t dare put his time in school in jeopardy. Nino and Alya, Marinette and even Chloe kept him far happier than he had ever been while stuck behind these walls.

Adrien was sure Nathalie had called the school, but it had only occurred to him between the last few runs that he ought to text Nino to let him know he’s grounded.

He wanted Nino to know for sure, but he was really hoping that word would get back to Marinette.

Steadying himself into the top toehold, he pressed his forehead against the wall.

He hated the fact that he still didn’t have her number...yet. Or he could have texted her, too.

He could have explained that he wanted to be there...to talk to her.

“Kid. I’m exhausted just watching you.” Plagg just sighed, rolling over onto his side on the computer desk after consuming at least two full containers of Camembert.

Glutton that he was, Plagg had at least felt sorry enough for him to offer him a smaller wedge of his Camembert.

Not that he had any interest in the stinky cheese. But the thought did count for something...as did the little bit of softness he’d seen in his kwami’s eyes.

Slowly, Adrien climbed back down from the wall. The exertion had his muscles stinging from use and beads of sweat welling on his forehead.

His bangs were plastered to his skin. He grabbed the towel he used to wipe off his hands between attempts, and pressed it to his forehead.

He glared up at the wall, weighing whether or not to take another run.

It kept him busy, but most importantly, it tempered his anger. He still couldn’t believe his rotten luck. It just figured. The one day his father would come home early...

He inhaled through his nose, before blowing out a steadying breath.

Anger -- true anger -- wasn’t wise. Not as long as Hawkmoth was still wreaking havoc in Paris.

Adrien hadn’t been visited by any butterflies. Not yet.

He didn’t even know if he could be Akumatized. But the worry had been clear enough in Plagg’s green eyes.

If Hawkmoth did manage it, there was far too great a risk of his powers being used more directly against Ladybug. If he were exposed himself, he would be even more dangerous now that he knew her secret.

Keeping her safe had always been his number one priority. And it always would be. Knowing it was Marinette who had been hiding behind that mask only strengthened his resolve.

So, he kept himself busy, biding his time. Watching to see if he was needed.

Unless Chat Noir was needed, he would just have to sneak away later to try to reassure Marinette.

Jerkily, he slid down the pole, feeling far too sticky for comfort. He definitely needed a shower.

Plagg was inclined to agree, his keen nose wrinkled up in distaste.

Adrien chuckled, pulling the towel around his neck. “Could you watch the Ladyblog for me while I jump in the shower?”

His kwami shrugged. “I kind of was already.”

An answer finally came when Nino’s phone buzzed inside his bag. Not that he could check it until class had ended for the day. But the moment they were dismissed, he was checking his phone.

“Huh.”

Alya peered over his shoulder, half up out of her seat.

Nino frowned, brows furrowed under the shadow of his hat brim. “Looks like Adrien’s Dad won’t let him come back to school this afternoon.”

Alya scoffed. “What does that mean? Does he have a photoshoot or something?”

Shaking his head, Nino’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It doesn’t say. Which is weird...Adrien usually mentions what is going on.”

Marinette set her jaw. She didn’t like this. Not at all. But at least she knew where she could find him.

She cleared her throat. “Would you mind if I took Adrien his assignments today?”

Blinking, Nino shrugged as a slow smile spread across his lips, as he spun back around in his seat to pack his bag. “Be my guest.”

An uncanny smile was echoed on Alya’s lips as she offered a surreptitious high five. “Good on you, girl.”

Marinette smiled. “Mind if I grab a copy of your physics notes? I was struggling a little bit.”

Smiling, Alya shook her head. “I’ve got you covered.”

“You may not be able to get in, though.” Nino reminded. “Not with the dragoness guarding the door.”

Marinette smirked. She had a surefire strategy to ensure she would see him this afternoon. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

Ladybug grinned as the rush of wind ruffled her bangs. There was nothing quite like it to settle her thoughts. Especially as this would be just as challenging for her as any battle with Hawkmoth.

It would mean so much more for her continued partnership with Chat Noir. With Adrien. She had never wanted either boy to be at risk, and now she knew they were actually the same handsome boy.

She was still a little nervous. It wasn’t like Adrien knew it was her behind the mask.

The more that she thought about it, the more sure she was that he had only revealed himself to tip the scales. He certainly hadn’t planned to find out about her crush on him -- as Adrien. But Chat -- Adrien -- really did have a strong sense of fair play. That uneven playing field must not have sat well with him.

So, he put the one thing they both knew could only belong to him...and set himself in the one place she was sure to be watching.

He already knew she could be trusted with secrets...just not quite how many secrets she was keeping.

And, to an extent, she appreciated his candor.

But the risk was a little too high.

Frowning, she dropped onto a nearby roof, pulling the scarf a little tighter against the chill. The bag on her shoulder was throwing off her usual balance just enough to slow her down.

Not that she minded that much. She didn’t know just what to make of this slightly more flirty Adrien.

When he was at his sweetest, Adrien was a hazard to her balance...and her command of the French language.

But a flirty Adrien?

She shivered at the thought. That was bound to have a devastating effect on her mental state.

It had been hard enough trying to not encourage Chat Noir. But she had a very decided weakness to the boy beneath that mask.

And boy, didn’t he know it.

Ladybug blew out a shaky breath, hanging from the ledge outside his room. Ready or not, her partner needed to know that she knew who he was.

His hair towel dried, Adrien padded around the room in bare feet, pacing aimlessly.

School had been out for at least a half an hour and he hadn’t heard more than a “Sorry to hear it, man” from Nino. He was happy to hear from Nino for sure.

But he had hoped that by now, he would have heard from someone else.

Adrien settled down to the piano bench, wiggling his fingers above the keys as warm up. Since he was stuck here anyways, at least until nightfall, he ought to try to be a little productive.

He was sure to hear it from his instructor otherwise.

He actually could play and quite well...even if his skills were a little bit rusty for all of his secret escapes across the Parisian rooftops. But his fingers had the innate muscle memory from the years and years of diligent practice.

At least they did when he could properly focus.

His shoulders slumped, as his head plonked down onto the keys, sending a discordant noise echoing throughout his room.

A soft breeze wafted the back of his neck...but he didn’t register the figure in the window until he heard her chuckle.

Plagg had darted into hiding, purely out of instinct.

His eyes opened wide, joy tugging at his lips. “Ladybug.”

If there was a sight she had never expected to see, it was Chat Noir sitting upon the piano bench.

Well, it was technically Adrien sitting at the bench, hunched down over the keys.

Luckily for her, he didn’t notice, so she could take it all in unguarded. Ladybug was torn between her usual adoring look at Adrien and the wayward thoughts of her leather-clad partner actually serenading her.

A breathless chuckle slid past her lips at absurdity of it all.

Startled, Adrien sat up quickly, his shocked green eyes darting towards the window.

Only to soften along with a smile that literally made her melt. The fact that he had practically purred her name hadn’t helped matters in the least.

Her only saving grace was the fact that he didn’t know.

Her hip cocked to the side, channeling every ounce of extra confidence that her mask would allow as she balanced adeptly on the windowsill, her yo-yo looped onto the top of the glass pane. “Adrien Agreste, you are in trouble.”

Adrien snorted at that. “So my father tells me.”

Her eyes widened, bringing her up a bit short. She had been so sure she was going to catch the cat off balance. Yet already she’d been knocked of hers.

He seemed to have noticed that she was fazed, averting his eyes carefully as he pushed back from the piano bench. “Do you...usually make house calls?”

“Not usually.” She dropped onto the floor, tugging the yo-yo free of the glass. She tugged the backpack from her shoulder, rifling out the notebook she’d copied.

“Are those my notes?”

Her eyes grew wide. She nodded, wordlessly handing over the pile of copies.

If he noticed her gaping, he never said a word, letting the smile light up his face as he looked over the notes she had brought. “Thanks. This will really be help me catch back up.”

Ladybug’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. It puzzled her how he didn’t seem to question the situation at all...just accepted that his partner in crime fighting would be thoughtful enough to pick up notes for him.

Or to even be aware that he wasn’t in class this afternoon.

“Your friends said you might need it.” She stood back up, forcing her tone to be airy and light. “Why were you out of class anyways?”

Adrien just sighed, setting the paperwork down on the piano bench and leaning against the black finish. “My father didn’t approve of something I was wearing. It wasn’t on his list of outfits he deemed acceptable to wear.”

She blinked, trying to remember what he had been wearing earlier. Outside of the scarf she made him, there wasn’t anything that stood out. “Your scarf?”

He nodded.

“Why did you wear it, if you knew he’d disapprove?”

Adrien rolled his eyes, before matching his gaze her hers. “Because I didn’t expect him to come home so early. And I needed to wear it, at least for a little while.”

Ladybug bit her lip. “He really disapproves of it that much?”

The oddest smile crossed his face, less full of Chat Noir’s humor but far more expressive than she was ever used to seeing from Adrien himself. “It’s funny. He spoke so highly on the quality of the work.”

Excited, Ladybug bounced on the balls of her feet.

“Even if he did call the color gaudy.”

“Gaudy?” She murmured, incredulous as her face fell. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, schooling her face into a deadpan expression. “I’m sorry, Adrien. Your father has no taste.”

His grin widened, too full of cat-like mischief and unchecked mirth. “I know. Have you seen my closet?”

She gaped, unrestrained, her eyes darting over to the wardrobe. Budding fashion designer at heart, that offer -- even if it was merely a joke -- was just a little too tempting.

But the superhero really shouldn’t be reacting to such an offer.

Her balance faltered, arms windmilling as she collected herself, shaking her head. “And he grounded you for that?”

Adrien’s expression grew a little more grim, green eyes growing dark as he began to pace. “He’s kept me hidden away in here for far less. I just needed to be especially careful right now.”

Ladybug crossed her arms, watching him move with unsubtle grace. “Why right now?”

His eyes were pained. “If he took school away from me now, I don’t know how I could take it.”

She drew in a shaky breath.

“It’s meant so much to me to be able to make friends with everyone. I just can’t go back to this loneliness. Even if I would get to hang out with you from time to time, it’s not enough.”

She’s worried and fretting. And not hearing everything there.

“Not since I know you sit right behind me.”

She gasped, a bit dazed and unfocused as the pieces became clear in her mind. “Adrien?” Finally, she realized it all. That he knew who she was.

“Chaton?”

He nodded, worried as she looked a bit dazed. He frowned, his arm extending out to comfort her, but it was readily apparent that he was the cause of her current distress.

“You know?”

“Who you are?” He nodded. “Yes.”

Her blue eyes sharpened, standing to her full height. “How long?”

“Huh?” He answered eloquently. His eyes blew wide, as he wondered if he had badly misjudged his plan after all.

He backed up half a step. She didn’t know? But she was really clever at putting the pieces together.

“How long have you known?”

Her arms crossed over her chest, she advanced. Eyes narrowed.

She definitely knew now. But she was not exactly happy. He felt a thrill of fear chase down his spine, bouncing on the balls of his feet by instinct.

There was no one else who knew better just how scary it could be to face off with Ladybug.

How well do cats land on their feet? He thought deliriously, barely stifling an ill-timed smirk as he backed away with her every step forward, his legs knocking back into the wall beside the stairs. “A few days, I think.”

“Days?” She huffed, her hand shot out towards him. “Adrien! You’ve known for days?”

Eyes startled wide, he squeaked, dodging out of the way of her grasp and up the spiral staircase purely on reflex.

Ladybug blew out an angry puff of air, as she pondered just what to do with him as she slowly climbed the stairs in his wake.

She wasn’t that scary. Well, maybe she was a little intimidating with the mask. But she’d been practicing that for a fairly long time now.

To be fair, Adrien had put an awful lot at risk for both of them. Even if he did realize he was only outing himself to her for sure.

She really ought to be in trouble for it, but his own father had beat her to the punch in punishing him.

“Wait.” Her eyes narrowed, tightening her grip on the handrail. “So that means you knew…when you were visiting my house.”

“Uhhh.” He paused in backing up, studiously not quite meeting her eyes. “Well, I didn’t figure it out the first day.”

She hadn’t been quite so worried about the first day. This was really more about the last one, when she remembered she had -- finally -- been open about her crush

And he hadn’t even had the decency to come clean then about who he really was.

Her eyes narrowed, mentally entertaining darker thoughts about cats and landing on their feet.

Not that her Chaton would hold up nearly so well outside his transformation.

It was still a bit shocking to consider just how many times she had bodily picked up her crush and tossed him around Paris...and all the while she still couldn’t manage to throw herself at him first.

Chat -- Adrien -- might appreciate the humor of it. Later. When she’d puzzled out just how mad to be about his thoughtless actions.

Ladybug bit the inside of her lip, indecisive. Tikki and Alya had been so sure of his feelings for her (at least with respect to one particular side of the mask), but the doubt and the worry would always be there.

It wasn’t that she questioned her own self worth. She had just had her hopes up for so long.

The fact that he hadn’t told her just cemented that worry in her mind.

Did he not want her to know? Did he now know how to let her down gently?

Closing her eyes, she steeled herself. Good news or bad, she and Adrien had a commitment to keeping Paris safe. Which meant she had to know what she was dealing with, good news or bad.

“How did you figure it out anyways?”

“Your scarf was sitting on top of your dresser.” Adrien nodded to towards her scarf. “Honestly, I almost missed seeing it.”

“So without my gift?” Ladybug trailed off.

Adrien smiled softly, finishing her thought. “I never would have connected the dots.”

“Huh.” She was a little dumbfounded, leaning back against a shelf of CDs.

Adrien’s hand drifted to the back of his neck, his shoulders slumped. “I wish I could take the credit for noticing, but it was Father who actually noticed. He was the one who had spotted your initials along the inside edge of the fabric.”

The indelicate snort that slipped past her lips gave him a bit of hope that she wasn’t quite as angry as he’d feared.

His own lips curved upward. “He was the one who noticed that your work was was the common thread between the two scarves.”

“Chat-on,” she groaned.

He chuckled happily, leaning against the wall beside her. He would tell her about just how much his Father had complimented the quality of her work later, when she could be just as pleased as she should be with the compliment. “It was what sent me to your house in the first place. To thank you for your gift.” His eyes locked with hers, his fingers skimming along his jaw.. “And, to be honest, I was curious if you had learned anything more about Ladybug. Since you were supposed to have been working with her and all.”

Her lips were parted slightly, cheeks flushed a soft pink beneath her mask.

She turned away, staring out the large windows. “So, you knew...but you couldn’t tell me?”

He blushed. Smiling, he asked her the question that had been plaguing his own mind. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about the other scarf you made me?”

“Well,” She hedged, feet shuffling slightly. Her proximity to the rail made him worry, just a little bit. “I saw how happy you were, when you thought it had come from your father. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

Adrien blinked, crossing his arms over his chest, half offended with the situation on her behalf. “But it was your gift.”

“I gave it to you to make you happy.” She tilted her head, bright blue eyes slightly rueful. “And it worked...just not quite how I expected it to.”

He fidgeted, his brows furrowing. “I still wish you would have told me.”

“Adrien....” Ladybug pressed, more firmly this time. “Why couldn’t you just tell me that you knew?”

“I tried. You kept thinking I was sick.” He stared up at the ceiling, not trusting himself to speak while facing her head on. “For some reason, I kept stumbling over my words, once I figured out who you were.”

“Oh.” She murmured, her brain slowly connecting the dots. Blinking, she gazed back up and him, nibbling anxiously at her lip.

“And I was a little afraid you might not be happy with who I was, underneath the mask.” Glancing away, Adrien felt the blush take over his face. His nails bit into the wooden shelf behind him. “To be honest, I never really understood why you had such a hard time talking to me. I didn’t even think that you might actually understand why.” He shook his head. “I was trying to get you to react. To understand without me messing up what I really needed to tell you.”

“Oh, I was reacting.” Ladybug had one arm at her side, the other holding onto it as her nose scrunched up adorably. “You just didn’t notice. Somehow.”

Plagg agreed, peering throwing the glass railing, . “Yeah. The kid is really good at that.”

“Plagg!” Adrien groaned, facepalming.

Blinking, Ladybug walked to the rail reaching her arm out in greeting. “You must be Chat’s kwami.”

Plagg preened under her attention, melting a little himself as she scratched just behind his ears.

Plagg smirked. “And you must be the one who keeps leaving me stuck with this smitten kitten after you part from patrols each evening.”

“Plagg,” Adrien hissed, flushing furiously. “Don’t you have something else to do?”

“Well, I was watching this really entertaining chase scene.” The kwami snickered. “But then you both got boring. Besides, I am still waiting on my popcorn.”

Ladybug beamed, far too amused by their antics.

Try as she might, she couldn’t entirely stifle her chuckle, even as her partner buried his head in his hands.

Poor Adrien really did seem to have a rougher time of it. Tikki was sweet, if firm, when she needed to be. But Plagg seemed to be proving the rule that cats really are nothing but trouble.

Turning on her, Plagg grinned. “Now, do me a favor and try not to break him, Bug. I know the kid was dragging his feet, but even if you are tempted to toss him around the room, he should really be transformed first. And I haven’t had nearly enough cheese today to keep up with that sort of abuse.”

He sighed dramatically, half-fainting in her arms. His tiny paw pressed as close to his forehead as the limited length would allow.

Even as amusing as Plagg could be, her eyes snapped to Adrien, the moment she noticed him move out of the corner of her eye.

He definitely had rolled his eyes, pressing his head back against the shelf.

She snorted, grinning in return, as she scratched under Plagg’s tiny chin. His eyes slitted, nearly shut as he purred.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Adrien was sullen, pursing his lips.

Her smile only grew as she recognized that face so well. Jealous much, Chaton?

“Poor little kwami.” She half-cooed, amusement now plain on her face as Plagg basked under the attention. “Living in this big house. Life must be hard.”

“Harder than you might think.” The kwami grumbled. “Anyways, do you know how hard it is to find a chosen who can keep up with my Camembert needs?”

She rolled her eyes.

If Plagg noticed, he didn’t say a word. “Of course, it would be a pity to have to train another.”

She looked over at Adrien, his eyes a little hurt.

“Even if we could find someone else with a close enough match to your skills and powers, he's a good kid.”

Ladybug reached over and squeezed Adrien’s hand. "I know."

His green eyes lit up, carefully entwining their fingers as he squeezed her hand back. Adrien had that same soft smile that he did on the day he’d handed her his umbrella. The one that had made her heart run the race it hadn’t really stopped in more than a year.

But it was the way he murmured, “My Lady,” that had left her breathless.

Gulping, she inhaled an unsteady breath.

"Besides...you should have heard him for days...moaning and carrying on..."

Adrien’s face went ashen. "Plagg!"

"After he had figured out who you were--"

Panicked, Adrien dropped her hand, desperate and frustrated enough to call for a transformation just to silence him "Plagg!!! Transfo--"

Ladybug reached out, tugging him into a hug. “It’s okay, Kitty.”

Adrien’s words died on his lips, as she pulled him into her arms. Shocked, he tensed up for the briefest moment before he carefully wound his arms around her back, just above her waist.

Embarrassed, he dropped his forehead onto her shoulder, to mask the blush that burned all the way to the tips of his ears.

His eyes slid closed, savoring the moment for however long Marinette might allow it.

He barely even noticed Plagg’s annoyed groan as he flitted away back to the computer desk.

In fact, he barely noticed anything until she had slowly pulled back.

Shocked at the loss of her warmth, he opened his eyes.

"That's for being sweet."

Then, she smacked him on the shoulder. "And that's for being dumb.”

“Ow!” Adrien grumbled, his right hand lifting to massage his shoulder.

"Don't you know how reckless that was?" Her eyes narrowed. "Do you know how I've had to fend off Alya?”

He winced. “Sorry about that. It wasn’t like I was trying to reveal myself to anyone else but you.”

To his never-ending joy, Ladybug -- Marinette -- was still blushing a little bit, even in spite of her own annoyance.

He bit the inside of his lip, wondering if she was going to drop her own transformation.

"By the way, if Alya asks, you totally used puppy dog eyes to get me to make you that scarf."

"Don't you mean kitten eyes?" Adrien grinned.

She rolled her eyes. "No. Definitely not."

His lips curved further. He had expected no less. "What about smitten kitten eyes?"

Ladybug faltered, blushing prettily as she tore her eyes back towards the window.

Adrien’s eyebrows rose. That was new.

Her eyes narrowed, “This is serious, Kitty.”

Adrien frowned, watching her pace the walkway.

“I really am more worried about how knowing will affect us both when we really need to have our heads in the game. You’ve taken so many hits for me. We’ve had so many close calls. I’m not sure how well my heart could bear knowing that it’s you that keeps getting hurt.”

He smiled, ruefully. “It’s not like I am trying to get hurt, you know. It’s just better that I take the hit, so you can use your powers.”

The hurt plain in her too-blue eyes was like a punch to the gut, a feeling he’d come to know all too well. He pressed his lips into a thin line. “We already know that Hawkmoth is not about to let up. But without you, there would be no hope for any of us.”

Her gaze broke away with a rough exhale, grasping the rail. “Just promise me that you’ll try not to take risks like that. I’m still not sure I’m okay with knowing.”

“Ladybug?”

“Yes?”

His brows wrinkled. “Are you unhappy? That I am Chat Noir?”

Ladybug wheeled around, blinking. “With you?” She shook her head without hesitation.. “No. Never.”

“You’re okay?” He tilted his head.

She paused before nodding. “Yeah. I’m just going to worry more now.”

“You shouldn’t worry on my account.” Relieved, Adrien stretched as he stepped away from the bookcase, pulling a Chat-like grin. “It's just me."

Ladybug fussed with the edge of one pigtail, her eyes focused on the floor. “You say that, but it’s never really been just you.” Her nose wrinkled up adorably. “Not that you didn’t already figure that out. I’m just trying to get myself used to the idea.”

“Couldn’t you drop the mask, even just for a little while?” His feet shuffled. “It would be easier to talk.”

She nibbled at her lip. “And we should talk. It’s just that it is a little easier to talk to you from behind the mask. Courage flows a little more easily with it in place.”

Plagg shouted from the desk below. “I wouldn't mind seeing my old friend either.”

Wincing at the noise, Adrien lead her back down the stairs and over towards the window. He had been lucky that no one had come to check on him so far. But now they were making too much noise. “You should probably go.”

“Huh.”

“And come back in the normal way.” He smiled. “Through the front door.”

She frowned, uncertain. “Nino said there was no way I’d get past your father’s secretary.”

He grinned. “Nathalie can’t stop you, if I’m there to answer the door first.”

Her jaw dropped. “But aren’t you in trouble?”

He shrugged. “I am staying on the property. The scarf is off, and I am going to pick up the homework I missed in following Father’s orders. Nathalie will want to know that someone brought me my assignments at least. And if Nathalie turns you away, you could always drop back in and do your own homework here. If your parents are okay with it.”

“If you’re sure.”

Adrien nodded. “I am. I’d rather not take any chances that someone might come in and check on me.”

She pulled her yo-yo from the bandalore.

“You don’t think your father would take issue with you having a girl in your room?”

Adrien smiled, opening the window so she could head back outside. She was dragging her feet. And so was he. He didn’t really want her to leave at all. “I don’t really think that father could truly protest the company. As far as he would know, it’s just for schoolwork and not secret superhero business.”

Plagg cleared his throat. “And speaking of…”

The yo-yo rumbled in Ladybug’s hand, a Ladyblog alarm notification filling the screen.

They looked at each other, resigned. “Duty calls, my Lady.”

She rolled her eyes. “Duty has some impeccable timing.”

He grinned. “Plagg, Transform Me.”

Ladybug watched in awe as Plagg spiraled into the ring, as Adrien punched the air and posed, the leather suit chasing down his limbs in a few seconds.

She gaped at him, wide-eyed at the pose he still held.

Chuckling, he leaned in closer. “Impressed, Bugaboo?”

Ladybug snorted, barely stifling a laugh. She pressed him back on the nose. “Now I know you have to be Chat. Who else knew you could be such a dork?”

Chat Noir winked. “But your dork.”

She blushed, but didn’t even bother to deny it, quietly fussing with re-adjusting the black and green scarf around her neck. Instead she turned her determined gaze out the window, winding up her yo-yo to snag the ledge of roof across the way. “C’mon, Chaton. Paris awaits.”

When he didn’t respond with his usual quip, she looked back.

His grin widened when those blue eyes locked with his, never dropping from hers as he offered a half bow. “Right behind you, my Lady.”

Ladybug smiled softly, pretty pink blush still on her cheeks as she tugged the string, propelling herself out into the growing dusk.

Baton extended, Chat Noir felt his own cheeks warm, never more ready to follow her into battle.