Sorry for the delay~ Enjoy more cute.

Sabine took one look at Adrien and immediately invited him to stay for lunch. An invitation which she extended to Alya as well out of courtesy but Alya declined with a wink in Marinette's direction before she left. She said had footage to edit for the blog and didn't want to use the "crappy free" software Marinette had on her computer. Nino had already gone back home since he'd left suddenly without much of an explanation for his folks.

Adrien, of course, accepted the offer enthusiastically and stepped outside to call and inform Natalie. Marinette noted that he didn't say 'ask for permission.'

"He's so thin," Sabine muttered when he was out of earshot.

"He's a model, Mama," Marinette reminded her.

"He's a child." She looked down at her daughter. "From what I can see, your weight stayed proportional to your body, and I don't see why it would be different for him. He's too skinny. Model or not, he's still young and he needs food."

"He probably isn't allowed to have a lot of calories," she mumbled. Not enough to sustain him with his activities as Chat Noir on top of his athletics. He had to be making up for the missing calories somehow. …She hoped he was.

Sabine hummed disapprovingly.

"Mama."

"Fine. Just let me feed him."

Marinette snorted.

Adrien walked back into the bakery with the smile on his face. "She doesn't have a problem with it!" he announced. "And she's not going to tell my father, either," he added with a mischievous grin.

"Why would he have a problem?" Sabine asked curiously.

Adrien shrugged. "I don't know, he's just—he has problems with things that I don't really think are a big deal. Or even worth it. Nathalie knows, that's why she's willing to keep quiet. She can tell it means a lot to me so she's not going to risk it. She works for my father but…she's on my side when she can be."

Sabine's expression tightened but she didn't press him further and shook her head quickly. "I need to go help your father. Why don't you kids head on up? I'll start lunch in about half an hour."

Marinette inclined her head towards the back door and took off. "Thanks Mama!"

They ran up the stairs together to the living room. She thought she might have heard her father shout something about no running in the house but she wasn't sure so she didn't slow down. She could always deny hearing him if he decided to scold her later.

"Your mother is very nice," he commented as they went. "Both your parents are. You're lucky."

She was, she knew she was. She slowed to a stop at the top of the stairs and turned around. He nearly bumped into her, catching himself on the railing at the last second, and cocked his head curiously. "You know…they won't care if you come around more often. I think they'd like it. …I would."

Adrien's eyes searched her face for a moment and then he grinned. "Is that your way of asking me to hang out more in the future."

"Yeah."

"As…myself?"

"Yeah. You won't have to hide any here, either. Well, no more than I do."

He looked at her like she'd just told him Christmas had come early. "Okay," he said simply and that was that.

They were halfway up the steps to her room when it occurred to Marinette that her walls were still…decorated…with some rather incriminating photos. She froze.

"What?" he asked behind her.

"IJUSTREMEMBEREDIDIDN'TCLEANUPEARLIER. UM. WAIT DOWNSTAIRS I'LL BE RIGHT BACK!" She stumbled on the next stair, caught herself on her hands, then scampered up the last few stairs on all fours. She pushed the trap door up, darting through the opening, and slammed it shut, but not before she caught sight of his bewildered expression.

"Tikki!" Marinette hissed. Her kwami flew out of her bag and gave her a grin that was altogether too cheeky in Marinette's opinion. With a salute, her kwami zipped over to the wall and began snatching up the highest magazine clippings. Marinette frantically grabbed at the ones she could reach without help. Last time they'd done this there had been a close call or two with some forgotten photos. This time she was sure to grab everything and shoved everything in one of her drawers where there was no chance of him finding them. There was nothing she could do about the pull down right now and instead Tikki draped the cord over the top so neither of the children could reach it. Then Tikki did one last sweep of the space while Marinette changed her desktop background to one of the default options before putting it back to sleep.

"All clear," Tikki reported, "but Marinette…I don't think we should put them back up later."

Marinette looked at her kwami, considering.

"It's up to you but…well, you invited him to come over a lot more and we can't do this every time. You could be taking them down and putting them up once a day! And what if he shows up as Chat Noir or something? It just seems kind of—"

She shook her head. "It's okay, Tikki. You're right. I don't think I would've put them back up anyway. I should've taken them down yesterday. It doesn't feel…right anymore, I guess."

Tikki smiled.

Marinette opened her door and gave Adrien the all clear. He smiled bemusedly at her as he entered her room. It was only his second—no, third, if you counted that business with Marionettiste—time in here and he looked around with undisguised curiosity. Marinette tucked her hands behind her back, leaning her weight from foot to foot, and waited for his opinion. The walls usually decorated by his face were glaringly bare and she hoped he wouldn't think it was suspicious.

"You like pink," he commented.

"It's my favorite color."

"Really? I would never have guessed."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "It goes good with my skin tone and it isn't annoying if you stare at it for too long."

Adrien looked her up and down once. "Not arguing there."

"So, what do you want to do?" Marinette asked. "I've got movies, video games—"

"What about cheese?" Plagg poked his head out of the pocket in Adrien's shorts. "Got any cheese?"

"Plagg," Adrien chided. "I told you not to."

"I haven't eaten in hours!" the tiny god complained and flew out into the open air. "Please," he beseeched Marinette, "I'm famished."

"'Famished'," Tikki parroted with a shake of her head and began to sink towards the floor. "You two have fun, I'll take him down to the refrigerator."

"Don't let Mama see you," Marinette warned.

"We are quite capable of hiding from mothers," Plagg informed her primly and dove after his counterpart. The kwami disappeared through the floor.

Adrien sighed. "He's going to eat every piece of cheese you own. I'm sorry. I'll buy you more."

Marinette shook her head. "Tikki won't let him. Don't worry. I'm more than happy to feed him, anyway."

"You say that now," he muttered.

"Come on." She nudged his arm. "What do you want to do?"

He thought about it for a minute, biting his lip. "Well, we never had that Mecha Strike rematch."

Half an hour later, Sabine opened the trap door and found both kids deeply entrenched in a fighting game. Adrien was sitting cross legged in his chair while Marinette's chair sat discarded several feet away, its occupant having shoved it away in the heat of battle to stand as she aggressively button mashed.

Living with two gamers, Sabine was well aware of the protocol and entered the room quietly and stood behind them, watching the match progress. Neither child acknowledged her. She noticed right away that the magazine clippings that usually decorated part of the room were absent and had to bite the inside her lip to stop herself from chuckling. Marinette must have worked herself into quite the tizzy trying to hide the evidence.

She knew almost nothing about the game they were playing although she recognized it as one Marinette and Tom would often play. Her daughter, she assumed, was the Ladybug-inspired robot, which had been her favorite ever since it was released. Adrien had chosen a black one that looked like…well, a cat. That was right, the game had added robots based on both heroes. They seemed to be evenly matched if the bars on screen were anything to judge by but she could tell from the way Adrien's tongue was clamped between his teeth and her daughter's upright position that they were both working extremely hard to keep it that way.

"OUAIS! WOOOO!"

The controller slipped from Marinette's tiny fingers as she threw her hands up and Sabine leaned to the side to avoid it.

"Marinette wins!" the game announced.

"AWW! COME ON! THAT WAS DIRTY."

Marinette bobbed back in forth in her usual victory dance, swinging her arms around. Adrien glowered at her but the corner of his lip twitched and gave him away.

Sabine cleared her throat. "Lunch, kids."

Both heads whipped around. Adrien's eyes grew wide.

"Yes!" Marinette hissed eagerly and darted down the stairs. Adrien set his controller down and followed more subdued than her daughter had.

"Chin up," Sabine encouraged, "not even Tom can beat her most of the time."

Adrien grinned. "Oh, I know. She fights dirty and has so much luck that it's almost unfair. But that'll make eventually beating her even better."

Sabine raised her eyebrows. "You seem confident."

"You can't have good luck without bad. Sooner or later, the tables will turn themselves," he said sagely.

Sabine chuckled. "Well, when you put it that way. If you manage to beat her, I'm pretty sure Tom will want to give you a plate full of cookies or something else sweet."

Adrien's eyes went as round as saucers. He looked at their abandoned game, still displaying the victory screen, then back at Sabine. She winked and jerked her thumb in the direction of the trap door. Adrien grinned and scampered down the stairs after Marinette.

Marinette was surprised at how excited Adrien seemed to be for dinner with her family. He had almost every single meal prepared by world class chefs and probably with the finest ingredients available. In comparison, her mother's cooking wouldn't be anything special, right? It wasn't like they were having anything that would be out of the ordinary for him since she wasn't making anything Chinese tonight. Yet he still laid on his stomach in front of her open trap door and watched the happenings below through the gaps in the rails. She knew from experience that the view wouldn't offer him much.

"What's she making, Tikki?" Marinette asked.

Her kwami tilted her head to the side then dove down through the floor. She returned a moment later with the answer. "Looks like quiche!"

"Quiche," she repeated, looking at Adrien. He grinned at her.

"I haven't had quiche in a long time. My mom loved it and she'd either ask for it or help make it at least twice a month." He paused, cocking his head to the side, then lowered his voice conspiratorially, "It was actually one of the only things she could make."

"I know the feeling."

"Same."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

"Hey!" Adrien protested while Plagg cackled on the other side of the room.

Normally they would eat dinner after the bakery had been cleaned for the evening but since Adrien would have to go home long before then, her papa came up the moment he closed up shop and brought a platter of leftover pastries with him for desert. They didn't have space for four people at their table so they took their plates over to the couch to eat, something Adrien had never been allowed to do. He looked like he was trying to walk on eggshells as he crossed from the kitchen to the couch and gingerly lowered himself to the couch. He set his cup on the small table in front of them then sat back, holding his plate well away from his legs as he got comfortable.

Marinette plopped gracelessly next to him while Sabine and Tom took the other side of the couch.

Adrien was equally careful when he took his first bite, staring intently at the fork like he expected his food to abandon ship on the way to his mouth. Marinette had already finished her first bite by the time the fork made it to his mouth. He chewed slowly for a moment before his expression lit up. He went for another bite eagerly and brought it to his mouth with less than half of the care of the first.

"This is good!" he declared, covering his full mouth with one hand. "Really good! I like it!"

Sabine chuckled softly at his antics. "I'm glad to hear it."

"So, Sabine tells me that there was an epic battle upstairs," Tom began then lifted a bite of quiche to his mouth.

"Yeah!" Marinette crowed, lowering her fork. "There was!"

"Will I be surprised at the victor?"

"Nope!"

Adrien's lip jutted out in a pout and Tom laughed jovially. He reached over and ruffled Adrien's hair good naturedly and Marinette's eyes widened slightly. "Don't worry, son. I've been there more times than you can imagine."

Pout morphing into a wry grin, Adrien brushed the dislodged hair out of his face. "Ten times."

His hair was shorter when he was Adrien, she'd realized that when she watched him de-transform earlier and the light passing over him had done more than simply re-arrange his hair. Her papa's ruffling hadn't given him his Chat Noir hair, per say, but it messed up the blonde locks just enough that Marinette's heart soared as it occurred to her yet again that this was her partner. This was Adrien and Chat, together, in the same wonderful dork of a person.

Maybe it was the newness of the concept, maybe it was their smaller bodies that kept it from fully sinking in, but each time she was struck by the thought felt almost as shocking as the initial moment of realization. Perhaps seeing him when they got back to normal would be enough to solidify the concept in her mind.

"—regret the day I put a controller in her hands," Tom was lamenting when Marinette came back to herself.

Adrien shook his head. "Maybe you and I ought to play each other since we're so sorely outmatched by her."

Tom was slow to answer, expression thoughtful as he chewed. "Well, I need to go clean up downstairs after dinner, but I don't see why we can't have a match this Sunday if you'd like to come over then. I take Sundays off."

"I…think I can. I'd have to check with Nathalie, though. The fashion industry never takes days off," he added with a bit of bitterness.

But her father wasn't deterred. "Well, then, good thing you're a little boy and not a multi-billion-euro industry."

Adrien laughed.

"Best four out of five and I play winner," Marinette declared.

"Done," Tom said with a firm nod. "It is officially a tournament. You have to come now, Adrien."

He laughed again. "Okay, okay, I'll do my best!"

Sunday was three days away. Assuming they couldn't get this sorted by then, then there was no way Adrien would have to worry about photoshoots, Marinette reasoned. Not unless Gabriel Agreste suddenly decided for a mid-summer line for pre-pubescent boys.

Marinette helped Sabine do the dishes after dinner and Adrien called Nathalie to inform her that dinner was over as he'd promised. He hung up a minute later and announced that his driver would be here in ten minutes.

"So soon?" Marinette pouted.

"Yeah. My father has insisted on an early bedtime for me." Adrien grimaced. "Until I go back to normal."

"Actually, that's not a bad idea," Sabine mused. Marinette whipped her head around in horror. "Marinette—"

"Maman!"

"I know I can't force you to sleep," her mother said, "but I'd like you to be in bed when we go. Electronics off. You're not in trouble but your body needs more rest right now."

Marinette stared at her mother in disbelief for a moment then levelled a murderous look at Adrien. Traitor. He cringed a bit but then he winked and mouthed with deliberate slowness, "Patrouille."

Her murderous look faded almost immediately. Oh. She glanced at her mother who appeared to not have seen the exchange and was holding out a plate for her to dry.

She let out a loud, disgruntled sigh and took the plate. "Fine," she grumbled.

"Sorry," Adrien stage-whispered and Marinette stuck her tongue out at him.

Adrien retrieved his jacket (and his kwami) from her room and then Marinette walked him downstairs. They could hear the sink running in the bakery kitchen and after a moment of deliberation, Adrien darted down the hall to poke his head in and say goodbye to her dad. Tom bid him farewell loudly, reminding him about their tournament.

There was a skip in his step as he returned to her side.

Marinette couldn't see the car outside then figured that his driver wouldn't know about their side door so they went outside to wait in front of the bakery. Collège Francois Dupont sat just across the street and Marinette could see the stairway where they'd first bonded over an umbrella and a resolved misunderstanding. How far they'd come since then…in more ways than one. They were lucky enough to be going to the same lycée next year though there was no guarantee if they'd have classes together, at least they'd be in the same building. That was something.

Adrien nudged her with his arm.

"Hmm?"

He nudged her again and this time she looked up at him. His expression was warm and a smile appeared on his face. "I had fun today. …More fun than I've had as Adrien in a while," he confessed. "Thank you."

"I had a lot of fun, too. I guess this means we have to hang out more like this."

"Definitely," he agreed just as a sleek silver car pulled up alongside the curb. Adrien sighed. "And that's me. I'll see you in a few hours?"

She nodded. "Same place as usual."

Adrien lifted his arm, curling his hand into a fist with a hopeful expression on his face. Marinette bumped her fist against his. "Bien joué," they said together.

#LETADRIENEAT2K4EVER

:D Feel free to come talk to me on my tumblr, wintermoth. I will be using the tag "Pint Sized ML" for everything related to this fic and you can, too. Be sure to put it in the first five tags, though, or I won't see it.

TRANSLATIONS:
Maman - mama/momma

Patrouille - If you couldn't figure this one out through context clues, it means "patrol"