Ladybug zipped across the river towards the Eiffel Tower. She had fallen back asleep almost immediately after getting home, though she thankfully remembered to cleanse her face of the smeared thick eyeliner, heavy mascara, and candy apple red lipstick from her punk-rock makeover before crashing again on her bed. That would have been hard to explain to her mom at noon when she came to wake her up for lunch, affectionately teasing her for being a lazybones, and making her promise not to stay up so late anymore.

It was just after sunset, so the sky wasn't completely dark yet, and Ladybug noticed a number of people on the ground noticing her. She tried to smile and wave at them all as she flew through the city, not wanting to alarm anyone, and a great number of them waved back.

She was stopped on a particularly low roof near the Eiffel Tower, and was waving to a group of kids below, who were frantically waving back and excitedly yelling to each other and their parents, when she heard a soft double thud behind her.

"Paris's sweetheart," Chat's voice drawled smugly, seeing his point proven pretty throughly.

Ladybug was still watching the kids below, who were twice as excited now. "They want your attention," she told him.

He glanced over the edge and saluted the kids, who all eagerly copied him and saluted him back. He laughed, and she smiled.

"You're their sweetheart too, you know," she told him.

He smiled. "And here I thought I'd only ever be famous for sitting places and looking pretty."

Ladybug laughed. "So how was the rest of your day?" she asked, stepping away from the edge so the kids' parents could persuade them to keep moving.

Chat followed her. "Boring. I practiced the piano, did some Chinese work, looked up my father's show in Milan to see if I could guess how it was going."

"Could you?" she asked.

"Not really. All the reports of it are free from disaster stories, but you never know what's going on backstage." He shrugged. "Oh, and Chloé's back from Monaco and Nice. She called and demanded I welcome her home, but I told her I was pretty much under house arrest and she let it go."

"She did?" Ladybug asked, unable to believe that Chloé would ever stop pushing when she wanted something.

"Yeah," he said. "She gets it. Her dad does the same thing to her sometimes, so we're kinda in the same boat."

Ladybug frowned. "I never knew. I always thought her dad just gave her whatever she wanted."

"He does," Chat said ruefully. "So does mine, but only when it's stuff. I get a dance machine and a huge computer and a rock wall in my room, and Chloé gets all the clothes and shoes and bags she wants, but... it's not enough. It's not..." he trailed off sadly and sighed.

Ladybug stepped over, wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him hard. He embraced her back, his arms encircling her shoulders and holding her tightly to him.

"I'm sorry," she said, muttering the words into his shoulder. He swore he could feel the vibrations on them in his heart, but maybe that was just his imagination.

"It's not so bad," he told her. "I have you. I have Nino and Alya and Chloé, even though she can be kind of egotistical sometimes, and I know my dad loves me, he's just not very open about it."

She pulled back to look at him. "Well I'm glad you know we all love you, and if you ever need reminding, call me up and I'll zip over and give you the biggest hug ever and bring you croissants and scratch your head, and Alya can make fun of it all she likes."

Chat laughed, and with a final squeeze, pulled away. "Thanks. It's good to hear that."

"Any time," she promised with a smile. "Eiffel Tour?"

"Let's go."

—

Ladybug made it to the tower first, but Chat managed to beat her to the top of it.

He sat on the edge of a beam, with one leg dangling over and the other folded with his ankle resting on the opposite knee. Ladybug's yoyo zipped past the side of his head, hooked on the cross beam above him, and reeled his Lady up until she landed next to him.

"I win," he teased as she settled next to him. "What's my prize? Pastries?"

"Oh shoot, I forgot to bring snacks," she said, frowning.

"What?!" Chat yelped. "Well nevermind then. I only came for the food, so if you didn't bring any, I'm out!" he declared, starting to stand up.

Ladybug grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. "Ha, ha," she said sarcastically. "I'm sure you can survive one evening without free food."

"I dunno," he said, worriedly placing his hand over his stomach. "I might die of hunger. Or pass out of low blood sugar, and then die of falling off the Eiffel Tower."

"Well, I at least promise to tell everyone you died doing something cooler. How does motorcycle tightrope accident sound? I can be vague on the details to make you out to be even more mysterious and hardcore," she offered.

"Tempting, but I'm pretty sure falling off the Eiffel Tower is already one of the cooler ways to go. We just need to change the reason to something better than lack of pastries."

"Well, we could always go with the old cat standard of 'he knew how to climb up but not how to get down,'" she teased.

Chat laughed. "Someone needs to help with your definition of 'cooler'! You know it mean, 'more cool', right?"

"Maybe just don't fall to your death then," she suggested with a shrug.

"Of course!" he said, lightly hitting his forehead with the heel of his palm. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Ladybug leaned her head on Chat's shoulder comfortably, and Chat, acting before he lost his nerve, wrapped his arm around her shoulders. They sat for a while, gazing at the city, lazily kicking their legs over the edge, silently enjoying the warmth of the other against the cold air so high up.

"So when does your dad come home?" Ladybug asked.

"No idea. When a trip is such an emergency that he has to take Nathalie with him, he usually doesn't have time to call and keep me up to date. But the upside is, with Nathalie gone, all my lessons are automatically cancelled," he explained with a smile.

"Nathalie doesn't usually go places with him?" she asked. "I thought she was his personal assistant."

He shook his head. "She manages my father's schedule to an extent, but he generally conducts his own business. Most of her job is managing me, honestly. Though I think she does more work for him now that I'm in school. She had been homeschooling me before, too."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

Chat smirked at her. "I try not to be too much of a handful," he teased. "But I can tell you she isn't a fan of all my akuma related disappearances."

"Does she suspect anything?" Ladybug asked with a concerned frown.

"I don't think so," he answered. "At least, she's never said or done anything that makes me think she knows." Ladybug frowned still, so he assured her, "Don't worry, bugaboo, I do look after my secret identity."

"I never imagined it'd be such a chore for you," she admitted. " I mean, I get away with mine pretty easily, but having someone always looking over your shoulder must really make it harder, huh?"

Chat shrugged. "I manage. But I admit, I probably shouldn't be out too late. My dad and Nathalie could come home at any minute, and if I'm not there, it could mean trouble."

Ladybug sat up straight, worried, jerking herself out from under Chat's arm. "What? Why did you come out at all if it could cause you problems?" she demanded.

Chat shrugged. "It seemed worth it. I can't stay in that house all the time, and I wanted to see you."

Ladybug's stomach tingled at his casual admittance that he wanted her company, but worry overruled it. "You need to go home."

Chat lolled his head backs and sighed dramatically, but he couldn't honestly deny her logic. Coming out tonight had been much more of a risk than he wanted to admit, and if his father did come home to find him missing, he'd probably call the police and the army and anyone else he could get his hands on to escalate the situation.

So instead of arguing, he said, "Yeah, probably."

She stood up and pulled her yoyo off her waist, and he stood too. He found that the prospect of saying goodbye to his Lady was a lot less daunting now than it had been in the past. Knowing who she was, knowing she cared for him, knowing he had her number and could call or text her whenever he wanted— all of it made it easier to say goodbye now. It saved him from all the late nights of wondering where she was and what she was doing and whether she ever thought of him.

"So when do I get to see you next?" he asked.

Ladybug laughed. "Yeah, because I have to check my super busy schedule."

"As soon as possible, then," he promised.

"If your identity isn't already blown by the time you get home," she muttered.

"I'll be fine!" he insisted. He jumped over the edge, and when Ladybug peered down after him he was sliding down the iron structure like he had a skateboard under his feet, with one hand trailing on the metal to keep his balance.

She smiled after him, then flicked her yoyo, and began her much less direct descent of swinging around and down, rehooking her yoyo every couple meters.