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Chapter 1: Turbulent Seas

- x - x - x -

When Marinette woke up on Sunday morning, there were one hundred and twenty eight notifications on her phone.

Blinking sleep out of her eyes, she stared at her phone in disbelief. Sure, once in awhile, Alya would bombard her phone with messages over something trivial. Something exciting would happen during the night and Marinette would wake up to twenty or thirty fanatical messages from her friend. However, this - one hundred and twenty eight messages - was insane.

Pulling down on the message notifications revealed that the messages weren't just from Alya. Marinette sat up quickly, holding her phone close to her face as if to make sure she was seeing everything correctly.

Thirty five were from Alya. Twelve from Nino. Nineteen from Chloé. The other sixty two messages were rather equally distributed from her other classmates, some of her cousins, and a few unknown numbers. Her lock screen did not show her previews of these texts; regardless, fear began to trickle into her heart.

She unlocked her phone and clicked on Alya's messages first.

Half of the messages were sent in full caps. Some messages were as short as 'OMG' but most of them were longer. Marinette's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as she stared at two of the recent messages.

Alya Césaire

PLEASE CALL ME! i need to know if what they're saying is true

are you for real ladybug?

Oh no, oh no no no no , Marinette thought, panic blossoming in her chest.

Marinette opened up her phone's internet browser and typed in 'ladybug.' The first five articles all bore the same general message in their title - LADYBUG'S IDENTITY REVEALED . One of the titles even had her full name (both parts of her last name included) in it. She clicked on that one and skimmed through it.

About half way down the article, there was a video titled 'proof.' Nervously, Marinette clicked on the video and watched as she - in her black-spotted garb - bounced across her neighbors roofs and landed on her own balcony. The camera catching this all zoomed in right as the recorded version of herself transformed back into Marinette.

The camera managed to zoom in to the point that you could clearly see her face and the 'Françoise Dupont High School' logo on her shirt.

Marinette felt like puking.

There was more to the article, stuff about how she'd never been akumatized and how Ladybug was always seen heading towards the Dupein-Cheng bakery after fights. Marinette only read about half of the rather damning article before clicking her phone closed. She was starting to hyperventilate.

"Tikki," she hissed quietly. Heart hammering in her chest, Marinette curled her legs to her chest. Breathe , she told herself, stay calm.

Marinette had always known this was a possibility. The public, clueing in. Something, caught on camera. It had always been possible. She'd had plenty of dreams, most of which had been nightmares, about it.

Tikki was completely unaware of Marinette's budding panic attack. She rose up into the air next to Marinette, yawning deeply. "Good morning," the kwami chirped cheerfully, "looks like lovely weather today." Sure enough, bright sunlight was streaming in through the windows. It was hard for Marinette to get excited about good weather, however, considering the gravity of her current situation.

"Tikki, my identify is out," Marinette whispered simply.

The kwami froze, her oversized eyes round with shock. After a moment, the kwami asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," softly replied Marinette, staring at the phone in her hand. She'd locked the phone, but the black of the screen seemed to mock her. The news was out there, and there was no changing that.

"Oh," was Tikki's simple, somber response. The little kwami gulped. "That is a pickle."

Marinette could only nod in agreement.

- x -

For the next two hours, Marinette stayed holed up in her room. She pretended like it was a normal Sunday. She watched some TV, sketched some fashion designs, and ignored her ominous phone. It rang more than once, but Marinette might as well have been deaf for all the attention she paid it. Tikki, on the other hand, kept glancing at the phone, clearly uncomfortable with Marinette's strategy of (or lack-of, really) dealing with everything.

At one point, Marinette made the mistake of glancing out the window.

The sidewalks around the Dupein-Cheng bakery were packed with people. Reporters with cameras and mics, people with hastily made I Heart Ladybug signs, and large number of children dressed in Ladybug costumes. It was more disturbing than flattering.

So she retreated away from the window before they could notice her, and went back to her false illusion of a normal Sunday.

It was hunger that finally drove her downstairs.

As Marinette snuck down the stairs, she prayed her parents weren't in the kitchen. At this time of day, they'd normally be down in the bakery. Unfortunately, today was anything but a normal day. Leaning against the hallway wall, Marinette could hear her mother in the kitchen, talking on the phone.

"I don't know," Marinette overheard her mother say, "it could all be a mistake. She's only 17, meimei . I can't believe that my little girl is some... superhero ." Her mother said the world superhero like it was a frightening thing to be.

Marinette gulped.

She glanced around the corner. Her mother was looking at the far window, her attention on the swarm of people outside. At the far end of the kitchen, her father was sitting at their little dining table, reading a newspaper. On the side of the paper closest to Marinette, the headline read IS LADYBUG A SCHOOLGIRL?

Her parents knew.

Today was feeling more and more like a dream. How many times had Marinette imagined explaining her miraculous to her parents? Explaining to them what she could do? Only, now it was real.

I'm so not ready , thought Marinette, as she tiptoed into the kitchen. All she needed to do was grab a few pastries, and then she could disappear back up the stairs. She could avoid the conversation for a little longer, if she tried hard enough.

The pastries on the counter were still warm. Marinette palmed two into her pajama pockets and then turned, about to stealthy dart away.

Before she could make it two steps, her father's voice gently commanded, "Marinette, come over and take a seat. Your mother and I need to speak with you." Damn it , Marinette thought, as she unwillingly turned around.

- x -

It didn't go well.

To put it bluntly, her parents wanted to stop her 'reckless' superheroing. Her parents took turns, their tones concerned, bringing up all of the most dangerous akumas Ladybug had dealt with over the last three years. Her mother kept saying, if I'd known that it was you , over and over again.

Marinette understood they were just worried. It didn't matter that she was seventeen now, almost fifteen centimeters taller than her mother, and with more muscle definition in her arms than her father. ("So that's why you've been wearing long-sleeves in the summer," her father had said in wonder, when she'd try to show them that she was more than strong enough to protect herself.)

Regardless, in the end, they were completely unwavering. They were horrified enough that she had started being Ladybug at 14 ("You were just a child!" her mother had said). They wouldn't allow it to continue, now that they knew.

But, it wasn't up to them. Marinette couldn't just quit. She'd been selected for this role by something greater than herself.

Why were her parents having such a hard time understanding that?

By the end of the conversation - nay, argument, Marinette was exhausted. She'd always imagined her parents would be more supportive. Never once had she thought they'd ben scared for her. Yes, over the years, she'd had several close calls, but neither she or Chat Noir had died. Despite being teenagers, they'd done an excellent job protecting Paris.

That wasn't about to change.

Marinette stomped her way up the stairs after the big conversation.

"Well, that could have gone worse," Tikki offered optimistically soon after they'd gotten upstairs. She had, of course, been listening, tucked in Marinette's pocket.

"Somehow, I doubt that," Marinette grumbled absently, before glancing at her kwami and regretting it. Tikki and sarcasm didn't mix well. "Oh, Tikki, sorry. Yes, it wasn't that bad. But, still. Ugh."

There was nothing more to be done about it at the moment.

"They'll come around," Marinette muttered as flopped down onto her loveseat, "I hope." Marinette didn't know what she'd do if they didn't.

- x -

For dinner, Marinette's mother brought her a bowl of soup.

As she placed the bowl on Marinette's computer desk, Sabine asked gently, "Have you talked to Alya?"

"No," admitted Marinette as she avoided eye contact with her mother. She was still frustrated by her parents attitude towards the superhero thing.

"Oh. Well, she came by earlier. I saw her outside the bakery," explained her mother.

"She didn't come in?" Marinette asked, feeling guilty. Maybe Alya was angry at her. Marinette had ignored at least twenty phone calls and countless text messages from her best friend.

"Oh, um. We are going to keep the bakery closed for a few days. The crowds…" Sabine's voice died away and she cleared her throat nervously.

"Oh, right," muttered Marinette, ducking her head in embarrassment. If they opened the bakery, they'd drowned in a mixmash of fans and media. Her parents were having to put a halt to their business because of her.

Sabine spoke again, her tone soft and motherly, "It's fine, Marinette. It'll all go back to normal in a few days." She handed Marinette a spoon.

"Sure," replied Marinette impassively, "back to normal." What was normal? To Marinette, normal was being secretly a superhero, sneaking out at night to fight akumas and other such crime.

Sabine hesitated for another few seconds before saying, "We love you Marinette, you know that." Then, she turned and left. Once the trap door shut behind her, Marinette let out a big sigh.

"You shouldn't be so hard on your mother," Tikki chastised gently, reappearing from behind the computer monitor, "she's just worried."

Marinette continued to play with the spoon, "I know. I…" Strong emotions threatened to bubble to the surface and upset her composure. "I just wish they'd be more supportive."

"I think they will be, in time," said Tikki hopefully. The kwami flew closer to the soup and breathed in the warm fumes, "This soup smells splendid."

Before Marinette could reply, another voice spoke.

"So it's true."

Marinette jumped out of her chair in surprise, knocking the computer desk and sending the soup rocking back and forth dangerously within its bowl.

It was Chat Noir.

Chat Noir, clad in his typical black leather, was standing in her room under the open skylight window that she definitely hadn't left open. He was watching her with a curious, beguiled gaze.

Marinette suddenly felt very naked, even though she was far from. She'd dressed earlier, dutifully switching out of pajamas and into normal clothes on the off-chance of visitors, superhero or otherwise. No, this feeling wasn't about clothes. It was about identities. Chat had met her before as a civilian, several times in fact, but he had never known that it was her. Now, he knew. Just like her parents, there was a knowing gleam to his gaze. It was, honestly, kind of unnerving.

Flushing, Marinette softly greeted, "Hello Chat. Didn't feel like knocking?" That was a joke. Marinette didn't care much if Chat knocked or not. In fact, not only had she been expecting his visit, she'd been looking forward to it. There was something strangely exciting about coming clean to Chat Noir about her identity, even through it had happened unwillingly on her part.

"Marinette. You're Ladybug." Chat's voice was an octave or two lower than normal as he stepped further into her room.

Marinette forgot how to breathe. Watching Chat Noir wrestle with this new reality filled Marinette with strange, warm feelings. She did her best not think dwell on what these feelings meant.

"Yeah, I am," she replied softly. Forcing a small smile, she joked half-heartedly, "sorry to disappoint you." When she was nervous, Marinette had a habit of making jokes. It was one of her ways of trying to defuse awkward situations. It didn't always work, now included. Chat didn't seem keen on laughing. No, he was much too busy staring at her like he was trying to memorize every last inch of her.

She had to remind herself that had to be a big shock for him. They'd been working together for three years, saving each other and saving Paris, and yet they'd never knowingly laid eyes on each other's secret identities… until now. She tried to be patient, tried to ignore her own powerful feelings, and tried to resist the urge to make more lame jokes.

He stopped a meter away from her and gulped audibly. "You could never disappoint me," he whispered.

The awkwardness just kept increasing. Marinette blushed and decided another joke couldn't hurt. So, she teased him in a kind tone, "You alright there, kitty-cat?" He was acting almost as if he was under a spell, enchanted just by Marinette's mere presence.

"I'm good," he breathed, blinking owlishly, "how… um, are you?"

Marinette shifted apprehensively under his intense gaze. There was only so much of this strange, intimate moment that she could bear. "I've been better," she replied sarcastically, one eyebrow cocked.

"Oh, yes, right, er..." It was like Chat Noir had snapped out of whatever dreamlike state he'd been in. He gaze his head a little shake and then spoke in a nervous yet determined sort of way, "Yes, your identity. Things might be dangerous, now that Hawk Moth knows who you are. We need to consider your safety, Marinette. I can have cameras and a security system set-up around the bakery -"

"No, I'm good," Marinette cut him off, smiling at Chat Noir's antics. That's more like normal , she thought. "Trust me, I've had enough cameras for now."

"Are you sure?" replied Chat Noir, his brow furrowing with disappointment.

"Yes. Right now, my biggest problem is dealing with my life." Her messy, messy life. Her best friend, who she'd spent three years lying to. Her parents, who were much too worried for her. And finally, the annoyingly persistent reporters, who were still camping out on the sidewalk outside of the bakery.

Chat looked at her for a long moment, before suddenly offering, "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"If you don't mind," was what she said, but heck yes, please was what she meant. Selfishly, this was one of the reasons she'd been looking to talking to him. Finally, she could talk to him. Really, really talk to him. Oh yes, she'd confided him before in the past, but she'd always had to edit everything she wanted to say, changing names, leaving out half the story - the story of whatever half of herself she currently wasn't.

Besides that, Chat Noir was just about the only person in all of Paris who could really relate to what she was going through.

That's how they ended up talking for nearly an hour. Chat Noir sat on her loveseat, criss cross applesauce, and listened as she told him about Alya, about the news reporters, and her fears about school the next day. However, she didn't talk much about her parents and their desire for her to stop superheroing. I'm not going to stop, so there's no reason to worry Chat with it, Marinette thought to herself.

Chat Noir was a good listener. He commented occasionally and gave a suggestion here and there, but, for the most part, he just let her talk. It was exactly what she needed.

Then, while she was in the middle of telling him about some of the suck-up text messages she'd received from Chloé Bourgeois, his suit beeped. He was out of time already. "I guess I didn't feed my kwami enough," he joked, toying with the gold bell on his neck.

"Oh, well, yes, I guess it's been awhile," Marinette said, blushing when she realized how long she'd been talking for. Honestly, she'd been enjoying telling him about some of the sillier stuff from her crazy day. "Be careful when leaving. The paparazzi is everywhere."

"Right, well," Chat Noir hummed, rubbing the back of his head nervously, "Actually, you know, I could also… not leave."

"But your transformation's almost out of juice," Marinette pointed out dumbly.

"Right," Chat Noir drawled his word slowly, his small smile shy yet hopeful.

"Oh," Marinette breathed. She understood what he was suggesting. He was offering to detransform, to show her who he was. "Oh. Chat." When they were young, he used to make that offer a lot. Sometimes, he would beg, once or twice even crying over it. But, as they grew older, both of them realized the importance of secrets. It had been a long time since they'd both been fourteen.

Protecting their identities meant protecting their friends and families.

So, Marinette was surprised he was offering. That offer was no small thing. "Are you sure?" she whispered, feeling guilty. As terrible as it was, she was enticed by the offer.

If someone had told her twenty four hours earlier Chat Noir would be offering her his identity and she'd be tempted, she'd have thought them lying. All these changes in her life seemed to be happening at lightning speed.

It was overwhelming.

Instead of answering her, Chat Noir climbed off the loveseat and strode over to where she sat in her desk chair, a look of determination on his face. Then, he dropped to his knees in front of her. Taking her hands in his, he looked up at her.

"I'm sure," he told her confidently.

The powerful intimacy from before, when he'd first arrived, seemed to return in full. Her mind went blank as she lost herself in those familiar green eyes. "Chat," she whispered.

There was something about him that shook her, sucking reason out of her mind. She'd experienced this before, but only rarely. Every time, including now, it felt almost supernatural. Only, every other time before, the trance had been broken by whatever akuma they'd been fighting.

There was no akuma now. There was only a day so hectic that it was enough to make her crazy. The new chaos in her life was surely inspiring dangerous spontaneity.

Chat Noir cleared his throat, and then began to whisper, "Plagg, claws -"

Marinette didn't let him finish. Panic exploded in her chest and she flung herself forward, tackling him. She slapped a hand over his mouth, stopping any more words from coming out. "Stop stop stop stop," she yelped.

What were they doing? They were both acting irrationally. This was no time to be making big decisions like this!

"Ow," Chat complained, his hands trying to gently push her off him. She'd knocked him back onto his butt and her knees were digging into his thighs. Sliding off him, she whispered a few apologies. "Geez Louise, princess," he murmured, rubbing his thighs, "are you trying to kill me?"

Marinette didn't respond. Instead, she was listening for other noises. In her moment of panic, she'd completely forgotten about her parents. She really hoped they didn't hear her.

"Marinette -" he started to say, but she shushed him.

"My parents."

Chat froze and waited obediently.

One of the longest minutes of her life crawled by. Luckily, the only sound from downstairs was the sound of ovens opening and closing. They were in the clear.

"Sorry," she apologized again, sighing, "Chat. I…" An explanation was difficult. "It's just, all too fast. I need some time to figure everything out. My life has been turned completely upside down."

Now didn't feel like a good time for more change.

For the last three years, her and Chat had maintained a peculiar relationship. They were the best of friends in some ways, and yet total strangers in others. For the three last three years, their masks had acted as an impersonal barrier, keeping their relationship limited.

Taking both their masks off meant unbottling it. Unleashing that chemistry, platonic and otherwise, that had always existed beyond their reach.

And my heart belongs to another , thought Marinette, as she selfishly placed a hand on Chat Noir's chest, feeling for his heart beat.

Chat Noir watched her silently at first. He seemed to be caught up in his own thoughts.

Finally, a heavy sigh escaped him. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. Under her hand, his heart beat fast. "I understand," he whispered to her.

Gulping, Marinette tried to reassure him, "I want to know. Just… not right now. Let's take things slowly."

He chuckled dryly, "Okay, Marinette. I'll try." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. One of his hands reached up and covered hers. "I'll try and be patient. But you know, patience isn't my strong suit." His voice was playful, but also honest.

"You've already waited three years," Marinette couldn't help but tease him.

"True." He chuckled again, his green eyes opening slowly. Just like when he had arrived, the way he stared at her was almost with enchantment. "I can wait a bit longer for you."

Playfully, he tugged at one of her pigtails. So, she returned the favor by flicking at his bell. They both started giggling, indulging in the moment.

"Marinette!" her father's echoed up the stairs suddenly, "Would you like some bread with your soup?"

Darn it, not now , thought Marinette, not wanting to this oddly addictive moment with Chat to end.

"No papa, I'm fine!" she yelled back.

"I'll bring you a small piece!" That was her mother calling. She heard light footsteps on the stairs to her room, "It's freshly baked and delicious." Her parents were just trying to be nice, trying to raise her spirits with delicious homemade bread. It was both sweet and very unfortunate.

"Oh no," Marinette whispered, but Chat Noir was already in motion. He raised himself into a crouch, leaned forward, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

Her heart skipped a beat.

"See ya," he told her quickly, before twisting about and sprinting through her room.

His black belt tail disappeared through the skylight right as the trapdoor opened. "Fresh baked bread," Sabine hummed as she climbed into Marinette's room. "Hm? Marinette, why are you sitting on the ground? Your soup's getting cold! Come eat, you silly thing."

- x -

School sucked.

The day had started poorly. Getting to school was a challenge in itself, what with the freaking reporters still gathered outside of her family's bakery. Marinette had been tempted to change to Ladybug and leave through the attic, but she knew that would only make things worse. The last thing she wanted was to feed the reporters more proof .

So she pushed through the reporters, mumbling excuse me and pardon me . The reporters tried to stop her, shoving mics into her face and shouting questions at her. Her parents had tried to help, each of them trying to help Marinette cut a line through the mass of media, but it was rather ineffective.

Marinette ran most of the way to school. She felt eyes on her the whole way.

The school doors seemed like a gift from god as she slipped through them. That is, until all the eyes in the hallway of the school turned to her. Kids she knew, kids she didn't, all stared at her. Marinette was used to being stared at while Ladybug. She was not , however, used to it while being Marinette.

The classroom wasn't much better.

Alya was on an emotional roller coaster, going back and forth between being annoyed that she'd been in the dark about it to being thrilled that she knew Ladybug. Any time their teacher took so much as a three second pause in his lecture, she began whispering frantically to Marinette. Alya threw every and any question at Marinette, most of which Marinette refused to answer.

Oh, and then there was Adrien.

Like everyone else in the room, he was acting weird to Marinette. Only, his weird was a different sort of weird. Marinette couldn't quite put her finger on it. Just like everyone else, he kept sneaking glances at her. But, there was something different about how he looked at her… or maybe she was just imagining it. Considering how she'd been infatuated with him for a good three years, it wasn't unreasonable that she was reading too much into it.

At lunch, Marinette hid in a broom closet. She needed a break from Alya, from the stares, from everything. It ended up being the most peaceful part of her day.

- x -

She had almost made it through a whole school day when an akuma attacked.

She just barely heard the distant explosions, faint bangs that blended into the sounds from the history documentary they were watching in class. That's the documentary, Marinette had hoped.

Nope. Soon, the principal came on over the loudspeaker and announced that school was going to have to end a few minutes early due to the akuma attack. After that initial announcement, the principle paused, cleared his throat audibly, then added, "Good luck to any who choose to fight it."

Kill me now , the seventeen year old thought as her cheeks burned in embarrassment.

She shoved her books quickly into her bag. Meanwhile, no one else in the class seemed to be in a hurry to go anywhere. They all sat there, watching her every movement like vultures waiting for death.

The door banged open loudly, pulling Marinette out of her own negative contemplations. She turned and saw Adrien disappearing around the corner, into the hallways. He's in a rush, she thought, momentarily distracted from her own demons.

There was no time to wonder about Adrien's weird behavior. The akuma wasn't going to fight itself.

Feeling somewhat miserable, Marinette dodged into the nearest bathroom.

Her parents were going to be angry. It hadn't even been a full day since they banned her from superheroing. Marinette knew she'd have to opening disobey sooner or later, but she'd been hoping for later. She'd hoped that more time would have helped her parents warm up to the whole superheroing thing.

Hawk Moth, however, had decided not to give her any time.

Oh well.

"Spots on," Marinette commanded.

- x -

Marinette wasn't sure what the worst part was.

Perhaps it was Chat Noir and his plethora of terrible bakery puns ("This akuma is giving me a head c-ake !" "I think we'll win this batter ." "It's all fondant and games until someone loses an eye.")

Perhaps it was the reporters, who were out in force, intent on getting as many photographs as possible. No doubt they all wanted to get new photographs for their 'Who is Ladybug' stories.

Perhaps it was how, both during and after the fight, Alya sent her twenty-three text messages, begging for a full play-by-play of what happened.

Although, the most likely contender for the worst part was probably her parents. When Marinette got home, they were livid. The last time her parents had been this mad at her, she'd been eleven and had selfishly sliced into some lady's delicious looking wedding cake.

They sat her down at the kitchen table and glowered at her.

"Marinette, what did we tell you -"

"Oh come on," she interrupted her mother, "you can't expect me to do nothing. I have to purify the akumas, mama."

"Why do you have to? You're just a child. It's way too dangerous, Marinette," her mother argued back.

"I'm not a child," Marinette said with frustration, "I'm basically an adult!" Both her parents scoffed openly at that, rolling their eyes.

"The answer is no, Marinette," her father said, his tone calmer than Sabine's, "you need respect what we want for you."

Marinette scoffed herself, without thinking. "Marinette," her mother quickly snapped at her, bristling with anger, "you don't have a choice."

"And neither do you," Marinette boldly snapped back, "I'm the one with the miraculous. Paris needs me."

That's when Sabine's eyes flickered over Marinette, searching for something. And, found it. Her earrings. It was no secret that Ladybug's miraculous was earrings. Hawk Moth had publicly demanded them multiple times. Now, it wasn't Hawk Moth that was staring at her earrings, but rather her mother.

"Maybe you should give it away," Sabine muttered darkly, "let someone else take the risk." Shivers raced down Marinette's spine. She did not like the way her mother was staring at her earrings, as if the earrings were to blame for everything.

"Sabine," Tom spoke, some of his calmness replaced with worry, "let's not be rash." He glanced between his wife and daughter nervously.

Sabine took a step towards Marinette. Instincts took over. Marinette jumped up and clapped her hands over her ears, heart racing. "I'm…" Marinette struggled with words, "I'm going upstairs."

Keeping her hands over her ears, she went the long way around the table and raced to and then up the stairs.

Feelings of betrayal plagued her. Her mother meant the world to her, yet Marinette now felt like she couldn't trust her. The way she'd been looking at the earrings… the edges of Marinette's eyes began to burn with threat of tears.

"Oh Marinette," Tikki whispered, once the trapdoor had shut, "oh no. I'm so sorry. I wish it didn't have to be so difficult."

"It's fine," hoarsely whispered Marinette as she deftly climbed up the ladder to her bed. "It's not your fault." If anyone's, it was Hawk Moth's fault. He was the one who made life dangerous for Ladybug. He was the reason her parents were worried. They were worried he might hurt her, or worse.

And, to be honest, he might. Over the last three years, she'd nearly died on five different occasions. Two of them had ended up televised, with headlines like, 'IS THIS THE END OF LADYBUG?'

No, Marinette could hardly fault her mother for being concerned.

She could fault them, however, for not respecting her decision. Being Ladybug was part of who Marinette was. It wasn't something she could just stop, not a duty she could easily pass like a baton to some other girl. Whether they liked it or not, this was her life.

Marinette curled herself into a small ball on her bed and pulled her comforter over her head.

Tears spilled out of her eyes, seemingly intent on drowning her pillow. What am I going to do? Marinette worried as she drowned in a sea of negative emotions.

It was hard to keep track of time while under a comforter crying. However, her room got progressively darker, alerting Marinette to the changing of time. She'd long since stopped crying, but she was far from asleep, her mind unable to shut itself down. Her thoughts were like a web, sticky and terrible.

At one point, there was a soft thudding noise. Marinette choose to ignore it, figuring it was probably just Tikki, playing around in the boxes of cookies on her desk.

But then her whole bed moved, heaving down slightly in one direction. In another the same second, someone cheerfully whispered, "Heeey Marinette."

Marinette freaked out without thinking, jolting away from the voice. The problem was, her comforter was tangled around her, and she ended up flying off her bed in a rather graceless sort of way. "Heck!" she yelped as she tumbled to the ground, still half cocooned in her comforter.

"Oh, whoops, sorry," sang Chat, not sounding a bit sorry.

Ripping her comforter away from her, Marinette jumped to her feet, "Chat, not funny," she snapped at him harshly.

"It was a little -" he began to reply to her playfully, but then his green eyes widened and he stopped mid sentence. His tone changed to one of concern. "Mari, what's wrong?"

Her eyes must have been red and her face ugly from crying. She looked away from him, ashamed. She didn't like Chat seeing her like this.

"Everything is wrong," she whispered.

Then, suddenly, he was in front of her, his gloved hand cupping her cheek. "Talk to me," he urged her. His green eyes searched hers.

The waterworks were threatening her eyes again. "My parents don't want me to be Ladybug," she admitted to him, her voice raw.

"Oh, hell, Mari," he whispered, sounding as horrified as she felt. His claws tracing patterns along her jaw. "That's..." He seemed lost for words. Finally, he breathed out, "fuck." That little curse word carried with it fear, apprehension, and sympathy.

"Yeah," she agreed, "I know."

She stepped forward and wrapped herself around him, burying her face against his suit's black leather.

She cried again. This time, though, she had Chat there with her, curled up next to her on the bed. Once her feelings began to settle again and her composure began to return, they began to whisper to each other. Chat reassured her, telling her he'd do anything and everything he could to help her.

"I'm not sure that'll be enough," she had confided in him, "Chat, my mom looked ready to take my miraculous earlier."

"She wouldn't of," he gasped, shaking his head, "maybe it was just an impulse. You're her baby. She's scared. That's all."

"What happens when she gets another impulse?" asked Marinette, rubbing her earrings thoughtfully.

Instead of answering her, Chat reached over and played one of her pigtails, concern evident on his face. This whole situation was tough for both of them.

Eventually, his suit beeped. Marinette sighed. She wanted him to stay, but once again, the last thing she wanted was more change. I have to figure out my heart first, anyways , she thought miserably, as Chat leaned forward and gave her cheek a peck.

If she was in love with Adrien, why did she keep leading Chat Noir on with cuddles and teasing? She felt like she was becoming addicted to his touch.

Chat Noir vaulted himself through her skylight. However, his head reappeared a few seconds later. "Marinette," he told her mysteriously, "I've got an idea."

And then he was gone, her window was blinking with light from the paparazzi cameras outside.

- x -

The next morning, Marinette got grilled by her parents about why Chat Noir had been photographed jumping off the bakery's balcony.

"He's my partner," she told them, "he was just visiting." She didn't even mention to him that he had came inside, didn't mention that he'd curled up on her bed next to her. Not that it mattered - her parents decided to be annoyed anyways.

"What exactly is your relationship with this boy?" her father asked her.

Blanching, Marinette spluttered, "Papa! H-he's just my partner." Besides , she thought sourly, it's hardly your business . It was starting to really frustrate her, how much her parents wanted to invade her superhero life.

Her parents thankfully dropped the subject, but neither looked particularly happy.

It was a Tuesday morning, which meant there were four more full days of school for Marinette to suffer through before the weekend. As Marinette pushed through the somewhat-thinner crowd of reporters in front of the bakery, she prayed that today would be an akuma-free day.

Luckily, it was to be an akuma-free day. In fact, over all, day two was much better than day one. For example, the stares were also not so bad on day two. Maybe her classmates were realizing that she was not about to throw her costume on, right there and then, in the classroom. Many of them actually paid attention to the teachers, instead of obsessively staring at Marinette.

Good day or not, Marinette still sought out the broom closet at lunch. She was growing quite fond her quaint and quiet broom closet and the reprieve it gave her from her overbearing world.

That day and the next, the broom closet was the only place she truly got to escape to. At home, her parents acted more like prison wardens than parents. At school, Alya bombarded her with endless questions as her classmates snuck not-so-subtle glances at her.

All Marinette could do was to hold her head up and apprehensively await the next inevitable akuma attack.

- x -

It wasn't until Thursday that she was finally apprehended on her sneaky escape to the broom closet. Someone grabbed her arm and cleared their throat.

Only, it wasn't Alya (who had been rather furious that Marinette had been ditching her at lunch). It was Adrien.

She was at a loss for words, but that wasn't new. Years of acquaintanceship still hadn't managed to teach her how to act around him. Oh sure, she'd recently mastered full sentences, but now with the whole Ladybug thing… bleh . Under the gaze of his green eyes, she felt like she was back to square one.

"Marinette, I was hoping you'd have lunch with me so that we can talk," he inquired politely.

"Talk?" squeaked Marinette. She was being more and more conscious about the fact that his hand was still on her arm. I think I might melt, she thought.

Adrien broke out his perfect, toothy smile. "Yes, if you don't mind. I think I might be able... ah, assist you."

Oh, she definitely did not mind. He could assist her all that he wanted and then some. Marinette nodded dumbly and let Adrien guide her out of the school.

Adrien's limo, the one that always picked him up, was waiting in front of the school. Unfortunately, so were the reporters. Their cameras flashed and their voices called out as the pair of teenagers hurried towards the limo. Marinette, how did you become Ladybug? Marinette, who is Chat Noir? Marinette, when will the next akuma attack be?

Adrien looked just as disheveled as Marinette by the time they got into the limo. "Gun it, Arthur," he grunted.

- x -

"You're joking."

He wasn't.

Tentatively, as if they were a bomb in disguise, she carefully picked up the keys he'd place on the table. One, a car key. The other, an apartment key.

"It's too much." Marinette gently placed the keys back on the table.

Adrien frowned. "I disagree. It's barely anything. Really, it's the least I can do."

The waiter showed up to refill their drinks, which gave Marinette a moment to mull everything over.

Adrien Agreste was offering to pay for an apartment for her (or well, he had already rented it, but still) and provide her with a car. All for free. All because he wanted to make it easier for her to be Ladybug. He had told her that he imagined it can't be easy, what with the paparazzi treating her like a cheap celebrity. He told her that she deserved her own place… her own hideout (and yes, he'd used that exact wording).

That's why he had brought her to a very upscale Italian restaurant, asked for a booth tucked in a corner, and pulled out the key ring.

My own apartment, Marinette considered, biting her lower lip, my own car. Well, the car was excessive. Ladybug could get around just fine using her abilities. However, her own apartment meant that she wouldn't have to deal with her parents. The memory of her mom looking at her miraculous with malice shot through her mind and she shuddered involuntarily.

Then again, was it even legal for a seventeen year old to live by herself? Marinette wasn't sure how that would work.

Although, even if all that was true, it didn't mean that it was okay for her to accept these gifts from Adrien. "Adrien, it's too much money." Apartments weren't cheap. Cars weren't cheap. Hell, her family could barely afford one family car.

"It's a drop in the bucket when it comes to the Agreste fortune," Adrien replied stubbornly as he reached out and nudged the keys closer to Marinette.

She picked up the keys again, inspecting them carefully. They looked entirely normal. She couldn't help but indulge the possibility a little. "Who else knows where the apartment is?"

"Well, other than me? No one. It's being rented under a pseudonym and not even my father knows about it. I'm using money funneled through my own personal bank account to pay for it."

"Oh," Marinette murmured. She was not in love with the fact that Adrien was basically lying to his father by keeping in the dark about it, but, at the same time, she was pretty glad about it. Gabriel Agreste was polite, fashionable, and had raised an excellent son; that being said, in the few times that she had interacted with him, Marinette hadn't been able to shake the feeling that there was something off about him. Honestly, she had half a mind to suspect that the man was somewhat involved with the whole Hawk Moth business (although Chat was always quick to point out that she was crazy, Gabriel Agreste had been akumatized before).

Although, it really didn't matter whether Gabriel Agreste knew, because Marinette couldn't possible say yes. Right? She couldn't possibly take advantage of Adrien's friendship like this.

But, then again... what other choices did she have? Ladybug needed to be able to save Paris. If she stayed with her parents, she might not be able to. If she went off fighting an akuma again, it might drive her mother to do something crazy. She wants to protect me , thought Marinette, but I can't let her.

With her other hand rubbing one of her earrings thoughtfully, Marinette found herself staring at the keys. It was crazy, but Adrien's offer might just be the blessing she needed.

Marinette played with the keys, turning them over and over in her fingers.

"Okay."

Her life was like a runaway train. Uncontrollable, unpredictable, crazy.

- x -

"... are you serious. Are you serious." Alya's words were more like a statement than a question. She stared directly into Marinette's eyes, the rest of her stock-still. "An apartment."

"Shush," Marinette whispered, embarrassed. The last thing she wanted was Adrien, who was sitting in front of them, to think she was gloating.

She hadn't exactly meant to mention the apartment to Alya. Alya had saw the key when Alya opened her bag to dig out her school work. In that moment, Marinette had been given a tough decision: continue lying to Alya like she had for the past three years, or try a little truth. Marinette had decided on truth, figuring it was better to start treating her best friend like the best friend she was.

"Where is it?" Alya whispered with excitement.

There was a limit on the truth though, even for Alya. "Alya, I love you, but I'm not planning on telling anyone, you included. I want to keep it as much of a secret as I can." Hide-outs were much of a hide-out if everyone knew where they were.

Her friend pouted and crossed her arms. "Girl, I don't know how you can expect to keep anything a secret any more. You're in the spotlight now. Permanently."

Don't remind me , was what Marinette was about to reply. Before she could, their teacher hushed them.

While her teacher demoed some math questions on the board, Marinette found herself playing with the keys in her pocket.

- x -

Marinette was a terrible person.

"Marinette, I'm sure there's a better way," Tikki tried to beg her, one last time. The kwami was still in the mindset that Marinette's relationship with her parents could be fixed. They'll come around , the kwami had been telling her since Sunday.

Sighing guilty, Marinette disagreed, "I don't think so. Tikki, spots on."

Tikki sighed was cut in half as she was drawn into the earrings.

Adrien's proffered apartment was to be Marinette's saving grace. As much as she loved her parents, she simply couldn't obey their rules. They wanted her to be a normal seventeen year old girl, with no troubles beyond boys and homework. But, that wasn't who Marinette was.

So, she had packed her things.

Obviously, she couldn't cram everything she owned into a bag (although she tried). Clothes, shoes, photographs, a blanket, a pillow, her school work, a few trinkets; these were shoved in backpacks and reusable cloth shopping bags. However, some things were too delicate for her carry or were simply too big. Her computer. Her mattress. Her comforter. Her sewing machine.

She glanced at those items forlornly. I'll just have to make do, she thought. One day, maybe she could get a job and buy herself her own copies of those things. In the meantime, the library had computers she could use and the apartment was sure to have a floor that she could sleep on.

Tearing her eyes away from her things, Marinette focused on the mission at hand: get to the new apartment. She had already memorized the address from the piece of paper that Adrien had given her. That piece of paper now existed in fifty tiny pieces, spread between three trash cans.

Marinette was not taking chances.

Off she went, looking more like a red turtle than a ladybug with all her bags and items. From her rooftop balcony, she went in a funny direction, away from the reporters, who, for some ungodly reason, were still camped out in front of the bakery. Doubling back around was much better than getting more photographs taken, especially since those photographs would show her running away from home.

- x -

"Holy crap," whispered Marinette. Her eyes went as round as saucers.

The apartment downright regal. Beautiful white granite countertops, skylights, top-of-the-line appliances... it was shocking. On top of all that, every inch of the apartment was sparkly clean.

She carefully tiptoed further into the apartment, wondering if she got the wrong apartment number. The living room had furniture, clearly brand new. A huge flat screen TV, much larger than her parent's 40 inch TV at home, hung on the wall. This wasn't some empty apartment; this was a palace.

She almost didn't notice the note as it blended in with the white countertops. It was written in beautiful, sloping black ink.

Marinette, I hope you find everything to your liking. Please let me know if you need anything.

- Adrien Agreste

Marinette's head was starting to hurt. This was too much.

Nonetheless, she continued her exploration of her new space. Further into the apartment, she found herself peering into a bedroom. Which had a bed. With sheets and a comforter. What.

She stepped into the bedroom and let all her bags drop unceremoniously to the ground. That's when she noticed the two desks: one with a brand new Apple computer and the other with perhaps the fanciest sewing machine she'd ever laid eyes on. No joke: the sewing machine had a full-color, touch-screen interface.

No way , she thought, her jaw dropping as she inched closer to the machine. Sure enough, the side of the machine proclaimed in red letters, BERNINA.

A Bernina sewing machine.

They were the absolute best sewing machines and also pretty much the most expensive. Some of the newer models, like the one she was now tentatively touching, cost several thousand dollars.

Pretty much everywhere she looked in the apartment, Marinette found little surprises like this. The cupboards were packed with expensive dishware and glasses. The drawers were neatly organized with pots and pans. The fridge was half full with milk, eggs, and fresh produce. There was even a handful of bottles of some fancy-looking, foreign brand of shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom linen closet.

Almost in a daze, Marinette unpacked her clothes and tucked away what little else she'd brought with her.

- x -

"How do you like -" Adrien began to ask. They were standing outside the classroom, a minute before class was due to start. Twenty odd eyes, other students in the hallway, watched them curiously.

Marinette didn't let him finish. "Oh Adrien, it's too much. It's… Adrien, it's fully furnished. And everything's new. And, and, and, groceries. You didn't have to." She wasn't sure if she was complaining or thanking him. Perhaps it was a some of both.

"I know," he replied with a big smile, not seeming the least bit bothered.

"But…" She sighed deeply. "Adrien. It's so expensive."

Chuckling, Adrien shook his head, "It's just a drop in the bucket when it comes to the Agreste fortune. Seriously, don't worry about it. You deserve it."

Marinette wasn't sure about that. However, there wasn't much point to arguing about it. Despite everything, she had still moved in. Her clothes were in the closet. Her photographs were in a desk drawer. Her blanket was thrown over the couch.

"Okay…" she murmured as she played with the strap of her purse, moving it back and forth.

Adrien gave a little, amused shake of his head and then did something rather unexpected: he took a step forward and totally encroached on Marinette's personal space. Suddenly, she was as close to Adrien as she'd been to Chat Noir on Monday night.

Electric currents raced up and down her spine as Adrien whispered covertly, "Don't sweet it, ma chérie."

Wait, had she heard him correctly? Did he say sweet or sweat? Thinking was too hard with Adrien so close to her.

Her brain went offline. All she could do was stare at him, her face reddening, feeling dumb and happy at the same time. She drank in his features; green eyes, smooth skin, gold hair. How could such a handsome boy also be so good?

His eyes narrowed and his face changed to one of suspicion. The movement of his green eyes, darting up and down her face like he was hunting for something, helped snap Marinette out of her stupor.

"Ohwellthat'snicewellanywayswedon'twanttobelateforclass!" The words poured out of her mouth and then, before he could react, she ran like Hawk Moth himself was after her.

Alya was already in the classroom when Marinette arrived. Her over exuberant friend really, really wanted to hear about the apartment. Marinette hadn't even sat down before her friend was telling her to like, spill, now.

Her friend's excitement was somewhat contagious. Marinette gave into the temptation and told Alya a bit about the apartment itself, whispering as softly as she possibly could. Adrien had sat down in his seat behind her and while his eyes might have been looking over his math homework, his ears were probably keen to the girls' conversation.

Although, Adrien most likely figured out what they were whispering about when Alya gasped, "A Bernina ? Ain't that the stupid expensive sewing machine brand? You've told me about them." Marinette shushed Alya, glancing back guilty at Adrien. However, he was still focused on his homework, with only the ghost of a smile on his lips.

By the time class did start, Marinette had told Alya more than she should have about the apartment.

"So, what did your parents think of it? Were they angry?" Alya whispered as she pretended to take notes on Shakespeare.

"Um." Marinette tapped her pencil on her desk, feeling guilty all over again. She cleared her throat before admitted, "I... didn't tell them. Well, I talked to them on the phone this morning. They know now."

A pencil clattered noisily down off a desk. Glancing over her shoulder, Marinette found Adrien staring at her, his eyes wide. Shame washed over Marinette.

"Wait, what? Hold up," said Alya with shock.

"They wouldn't have been okay with it," quickly argued Marinette, now feeling like she was speaking to both Alya and Adrien, "and they aren't now. But it doesn't matter."

"Uh, okay." Alya looked floored and Adrien looked worried. Maybe their reactions would have been different, if they'd known about her parents resistance to her superheroing. Without that context, it likely appeared that Marinette was acting irrationally, ditching the parents that had always meant the world to her.

There was no opportunity to tell either of them those details. Before Marinette could say anything else, an announcement crinkled through the school's speaker system.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, please come to the Principal's office immediately," it said.

Uh oh, she thought with a gulp.

She knew why she was being summoned. She knew her parents weren't going to accept her decision without a fight.

As she walked out of the classroom, almost everyone was watching her curiously. Everyone, except for Adrien, who had his phone to his ear and was whispering frantically to someone.

- x -

This morning, her parents had called her. Her mother asked why she wasn't in her room, so Marinette told her honestly, I moved out . Her mother hadn't taken that well. Many things were yelled at Marinette over the phone. Near the end of the conversation, her mother was getting so worked up that the occasional Chinese word was slipping into her diatribe.

If it hadn't been so emotionally devastating, it might have been comical. Sabine Dupain-Cheng switched back and forth between being furious and pleading. One moment, she was telling Marinette, you're an idiot, you will come back or else . Then next moment, she was crying, we love you Marinette, we just want the best for you, please don't do this .

Tom tried to wrestle the phone from his wife, but that only seemed to make Sabine more frantic.

By the time she hung up on her mother (to her mother's utmost horror), Marinette had the horrible realization that this whole situation was affecting her parents much worse than it was affecting her.

After all, Marinette always knew that there was a chance that her identity would be outed. Yes, it had been a nasty shock, but it hadn't been completely unexpected. Tikki had told her that some of her past Ladybugs had had their identities revealed; it happened sometimes. Her parents… her parents weren't expecting this by any means. One random morning, they find out their daughter risks her life on a weekly basis. Then to top that off, their bakery gets bombarded with a stampede of reporters and over-enthusiastic fans.

Marinette was destroying her ill-prepared parents. But, she had to, for the sake of Paris and for her own sake.

I'm Ladybug , she kept telling herself, nothing will change that .

- x -

The meeting was a catastrophe.

Of course both her parents were waiting for her in the Principal's office. Her mother was crying, and, with every tear, Marinette felt her heart break a little bit more.

Her father was much calmer, but awkward. He didn't seem to know what to say most of the time. He did state, at the very beginning of the meeting, that she was a minor and did not have the right to move out. Or, as they kept calling it, run away from home .

She disagreed.

Her Principal tried to play the moderator but it was clear he felt out of his league.

The discussion went nowhere fast. Every argument that Marinette brought up was shot down almost as quickly by either her mom or her dad.

"I'm seventeen."

"Seventeen year olds are legally minors."

"I'll be eighteen in four months."

"Right now, you are seventeen."

It took everything Marinette had to keep herself composed and to keep herself from erupting in tears. All of that was only made harder by the fact that she was losing the argument. Her Principal was more and more reluctantly agreeing with her parent's points. He kept using the word legally almost every time he spoke.

It was a curt knock on the door that announced the arrival of Marinette's unforeseen saving grace.

Nathalie.

It had been awhile since Marinette had seen Adrien's father's assistant. And now, here Nathalie stood, with a clipboard and a hard expression on her face.

Nathalie introduced herself politely, her voice utterly emotionless. It remained that way, even after Nathalie pulled out some legal paperwork and tenderly laid it onto the Principal's desk. Nathalie started to explain what she had and what it meant, but Marinette barely heard it. She was riveted by the bold, serif letters at the top of the page

PETITION FOR EMANCIPATION, it read.

- x -

The lock clunked as she turned the key. It was a wonderful sound, as if her apartment was saying to her, welcome back, come on in and relax, you've earned it . Although, had she really? She was breaking her parent's hearts. It was overwhelming to think about. She had no choice, though. She had to, for Paris.

Marinette locked her dark thoughts into the back of her mind. If she kept thinking about it, she'd explode.

She started stripping off her clothes as she headed into the bedroom. Within two minutes, Marinette had slipped on a pair of cozy sweatpants and a loose tank top. This evening, she was going to eat the vegetables from the fridge like rabbit and watch TV. No homework, no work, no thinking. She needed a rest from it all.

Only, as she walked out of her bedroom and back into the living room, she discovered that she was not alone.

A certain kitty was lounging on her couch. He gave her a big cheshire grin. "Why hello there, Princess. I pawsitively adore this new paw-d that you've got here!"

Tikki buzzed out of the bedroom behind Marinette, took one look at Chat, and then began giggling. "I'll let you deal with this." The kwami buzzed pleasantly before turning and flying back into the bedroom.

"Chat, what are you doing in my apartment?" Marinette demanded, crossing her arms. "How did you even find it?"

He shrugged. "You're not hard to track, m'lady. 'Sides, why wouldn't I come visit you?" Chat batted his eyes in a rather flirty matter. Which reminded Marinette of something.

"Hm… hold on for a second," she told him, an idea coming to her.

"Anything for you, ma chérie."

Into the bedroom she went, grabbed what she needed, and stalked back out. Chat looked at her, baffled. He had the good sense to look frightened after he registered the irritation on her face.

He wasn't ready for her onslaught.

"LEARN -" Marinette brought down her pillow on Chat, whacking him with a puff , "TO -" Again, another pillow strike, "KNOCK -" Chat was both laughing and yelping, "YA -" puff puff puff "STRAY!" It was honestly too much fun to hit Chat Noir. By the time she was done assaulting him with the pillow, they were both in a fit of giggles. In fact, he was giggling so hard he was gasping.

"... knocking's for squares," he coughed out between his giggles, so Marinette gave him a couple more pillow whacks.

Five minutes later and Marinette was sprawled out on the couch. Chat had found two sodas in the fridge and offered one to Marinette as a peace offering. With a pleasant laugh, she'd accepted it. Then, he'd settled down on the couch with her. It felt oddly comfortable, relaxing with Chat Noir.

Part of her knew she was probably sending him the wrong signals, but… it was nice to have company. There was something arguably very special between them. A peculiar sort of chemistry.

Marinette had thrown her legs on top of his as she stretched out on the couch. As Chat babbled about some new movie he wanted to see, his left hand was tracing imaginary shapes against her calf. It sent little tingles up her leg. She did her best to focus on what Chat was saying, despite this distraction.

"So, how'd you get this sweet apaw-tment?" The question caught Marinette completely by surprise. Only Chat could jump so spontaneously from talking about movies based on ABBA songs to the subject of a new apartment.

"Oh," she said, hesitating, "um, a friend is paying for it. For me."

"A friend," Chat echoed, his gaze boring holes into her face.

"... yes."

"Must be a pretty good friend."

"… yeah."

"What's this friend's name?"

"None-of-your-business."

"Hm, I don't think I know any None-of-your-businesses. Is that his nickname?" Marinette reached down and grabbed the pillow, which was chilling on the floor next to the couch, and gave Chat another whack with it. This only made him laugh.

Then, his damned suit beeped. Marinette was getting real sick of that beep. "You'll have to leave soon," Marinette told him regretfully. She liked chilling on the couch with him. Then, in a moment of weakness, she indulged Chat with more information. "My friend - the one who's paying for this apartment - he's really great. I really don't know what I would have done if he hadn't set all this up for me. I mean, he shouldn't have, but…" She sighed deeply.

Chat bent towards her inquisitively. "It almost sounds like you like this classmate."

"Of course I do," she huffed back at him, stubbornly.

He laughed and shook his head, "Well, no, I meant, like, like-like him. But yeah, of course you like him if he's your friend."

She almost didn't say what she said next. A week ago, she would have never. But now, Marinette was opening up, letting Chat more into her world. He was a lighthouse and she was a ship sailing in a dark, turbulent sea; she wanted his advice, his presence, his friendship. So, she whispered honestly to him, "I do. Like-like him." Her whisper sounded more like a miserable whimper. She groaned aloud at her own feebleness.

"You… oh. You do." Chat's voice flattened out, all emotion dropping off his face and out of his tone. Marinette winced a bit; she should have anticipated this reaction. Chat was always flirting with her and then with the kiss last week… but, no, it was better to be honest with him. He needed to know that there was someone else in her heart. There's not enough room for both of you. Well, she didn't say that part out loud. No need to rub it in, after all.

"Are… are you okay, Chat?" Marinette asked gently, reaching forward to give his arm a gentle squeeze.

"I… uh, yeah. Sure." He didn't look okay. There were emotions warring across his face, but it was too difficult to tell which emotions those were. His hand had abandoned her calf and now he was ringing his two gloved hands together in a nervous manner.

Great job, Marinette, she told herself, how many hearts do you need to break today? First her parents, now Chat. She went too far. She tried to backpedal with her next comment, hoping to lessen the blow. "I… oh Chat, it's not a big deal. He doesn't like me like that. I'm just, like, nobody to him."

For some reason, that didn't make it better. "Nobody!?" He gasped at her and Marinette shrunk back into the couch. She hadn't been expecting that blast of emotion. "Do you really think he doesn't care about you, Marinette?" He was frighteningly serious as he locked eyes with her.

"Umm…" Marinette could barely get the words out of her mouth correctly. "I - uh - don't know?" No seemed like the wrong answer to his intense question.

Then Chat moved, twisting so that his body was over hers. He shifted forward until he was positioned above her and staring straight down at her, his knees against her hips.

Green eyes. Why did they seem so familiar?

"Listen to me," Chat spoke slowly, his voice husky. Marinette was definitely listening as much as her short-circuiting brain was capable of. "You are not nobody, not to anyone."

Her breath was coming out as ragged little gasps. Basically, her whole body was on fire in a really good way. The way that he was looking at her, half possessively, half drunkenly, was strangely thrilling. In those long seconds that he hovered over her, too close and yet not close enough, she felt absolutely intoxicated. When his hand reached forward and traced her chin, her eyes fluttered shut.

They both gasped, but for different reasons. Her, in embarrassment, and him, in surprise.

He lowered himself ever so slightly, his leather suit a mere two or three centimeters above her wildly rising and falling chest.

His face was close to hers. This was unlike anything before. She'd felt drawn to Chat before, almost like a magnet, but this was so much more intense. Marinette was putty under his claws.

His suit beeped again - a final warning.

He sighed. "It's too bad you'd rather kiss Adrien instead of Chat Noir, princess." There was a hint of amusement embedded in his sensual whisper.

Before Marinette could register what he had said, Chat was moving. He was already prying open the apartment balcony door when she hurriedly rolled off the couch and onto her feet. "Wait!" she shouted after him, a thousand questions rolling around in her addled brain.

With a wink, Chat somersaulted over the balcony and disappeared into the night.

- x - x - x -

A/N: This chapter was edited extensively on 6/25/2019.
Most scenes were at least somewhat modified.