Hi! New fic is up and ready for action! For my readers from O&B I'm very sorry it took so long to get this fic up and running. I'm assigned this oil painting class for this semester and since my teacher does not care that many of us have NEVER used oil paints in our lives, he's decided to skip the introduction and beginners steps and has us doing master copy and 14X16 paintings two weeks into the school year. I'm dying inside! My only happiness is that the school has assigned me a helpful tutor and that I'll never have to take this class again!

Anyway, enough of my rant, it's Spring Break so I hope to get two more chapters in before I'm sent back to that hellish class. This story is inspired by a anonymous submission on miraculousladysin on tumblr. On with the show:

Chapter 1: Overload

Before Marinette got a foot into the door, the girl was shoved aside by a rushing customer, allowing all the noise inside the bakery to explode into the air. To say the bakery was busy was an understatement. Over sixty customers were squeezed inside the tiny interior, nearly twice the maximum capacity that the safety code allowed for that size of a lobby. Over the multiple bobbing heads, she could see her father, Tom, frantically giving and taking orders.

"Yes, yes, your cake is in the oven and will be ready in fifteen minutes," said Tom, his voice speaking rapidly before turning to the crowd, holding two large carry out boxes, "Number 715 and 716, I have your orders ready!"

"Sir! I order a strawberry Charlotte half an hour ago! When will it be ready?" yelled a female voice.

"Where is my order of a dozen macarons?!" screamed an indignant male voice.

"Mommy, mommy," squealed a child's voice, barely audible over all the chaos, "Can I eat a jésuite when it's ready?"

"Excuse me! I asked for a croissant and a chocolat chaud and it's been ten minutes," replied a snobby female voice.

"I don't mean to be rude but I need that order of Tarte Normande!"

Sabine and Tom were running in and out from the front of the store to the back of the bakery, each writing down orders and then coming back with takeout pastry boxes. The bluenette tried waving her hands in the air, jumping up and down to get her parents attention, but they didn't see her among the many complaining and impatient customers. Marinette had to swim through the crowd to even be able to get her mother's attention. "Marinette! There you are!" Sabine exclaimed, reaching for her daughter's hand and pulling her behind the register, "Please, honey, can you give your father and I a hand? Here is order #720, a baker's dozen of puits d'amour. Start packing them in the back, I'm sure the other workers have already stuffed them with jelly."

Sighing, Marinette placed her backpack under the counter as her mother gave change to a couple with their child, handing over the order, then slipped on an apron and headed towards the back. Fridays were usually the busiest for her dad's bakery, but this was way over the usual weekend rush! It was made worst since she had just came home from school and just took care of an akuma attack. But she ignored her screaming muscles and started packing away the rush of orders as fast as she could.

Midnight struck by the time, Marinette and her parents climbed into their living room. The tidal wave of orders came in the afternoon and bled into the evening, forcing Tom to leave the bakery open later than it usually is due to the influx of demands. Over a hundred customers later, the Dupain-Cheng family bakery was left with a messy kitchen, a disorganized front lobby, 90% of their supplies gone and aching, sore muscles that they would definitely feel in the morning.

"At least we made enough money to replace all the supplies," smiled Sabine.

"True, but the bakery has been getting more and more busy each day," replied Tom, rubbing his head, "I don't think I can handle all these orders coming in at once. This is the third time this week!"

"Don't worry, dad," cheered Marinette, "I'm sure you can handle it! I'll help after school everyday if you need an extra pair of hands!"

"Oh sweetie, thank you but you should be worried about your school work, not the bakery," Sabine answered, kissing her daughter on the cheek, "Besides, don't you have that project with Alya this weekend?

"Huh? Oh, right! My project..." smiled Marinette, nervously. She didn't have any project with Alya, that was just one of her many excuses she gave when she had to leave to deal with an akuma attack. This week's excuse was a history project with Alya.

"It's fine," sighed Tom, sinking into the couches, "We'll think of something. Maybe hire some extra hands."

Marinette quickly crept upstairs as her parents started discussing what they should do about the sudden rush of customers. Once inside the safety of her bedroom, Marinette opened her purse to let Tikki fly out. "Sorry for making you stay inside my bag all day, Tikki," apologized Marinette, setting down a plate of leftover sweets she snuck in, "The entire bakery was swamped with orders."

"I could tell," replied Tikki, picking up a sugar cookie and nibbling on it, "Your parents must be exhausted from working all day."

"Tell me about it," mumbled Marinette, wiping a hand across her face. A thin layer of flour and powdered sugar covered her body and dusted her head. "And it's not even over. Mom has to deliver two wedding cakes in the morning and dad still has to finish the mayor's order of 24 baker's dozen petit four by next week. Even with their employees, they are always swamped with orders and can barely keep track of everything. They used to be fine but nowadays their demands have been getting higher and dad is really feeling the pressure."

"Maybe they should hire more workers," said Tikki.

"I don't think it's the amount of workers that's the issue. It's more like the amount of orders they get and dad has a bit of trouble organizing things," stated Marinette, "I think they're just overwhelmed by the workload they've been having this week."

"Let's hope it get better," chirped Tikki.

Marinette yawned and decided to take a shower rather than get her bed dirty with her flour-coated self. As she walked downstairs, she saw the couch empty and her parents gone. Tom and Sabine had gone back downstairs to help the two remaining workers with clean up duties. Tom went to check over the order list a third time while Sabine took inventory of what ingredients remained and what needed to be replaced. Simon, a 20-something college student, came up to Sabine and told her about one of the oven being too filthy to bake with.

"Ugh, I'll clean it before I go to bed," replied Sabine, looking over at the oven.

"I could clean it up a bit if it helps," offered Simon, but Sabine shook her head.

"No, it's getting too late and I don't want you to be out at this time of night," the tiny woman turned to her husband, "Tom! Can you give Simon and Francis a ride back to their homes?"

"Sure, just let me get my keys," answered Tom.

By the time Marinette finished with her shower, Sabine had cleaned the ovens and Tom had returned from dropping off his employees, it was half passed 1am before the family fell asleep. They trio didn't bother with dinner as the overpowering aromas from the bakery had made them a bit sick of food. Each prayed that the next day would be a lot easier and that they wouldn't suffer the same chaotic scene as today.

Sadly, their prayers went unanswered as the minute the bakery was open the next day, previous clients from the day before came barging in, asking about their orders. Marinette was roped back into helping her parents in bakery, having to cancel her and Alya's plans for the theaters. By the time they had finished the morning rush, the lunch rush started right after. The entire building reeking of baked bread, burnt chocolate and vanilla. Marinette had to put one of those surgical-like face mask in an attempt to lessen the smell. Despite living her entire life above a bakery, if the aroma was too strong, Marinette got sick of it.

'What was that saying? Something about 'too much of a good thing' or something?' thought Marinette as she pounded some dough.

"Order# 562, 563, 565 and 570 are ready," called out a worker as he pushed a tray of packed boxes with the order number scribbled on it.

"Got that bread dough ready, Marinette?" asked another worker as they started loading trays into the oven.

"Yeah! Here!" Marinette put one final cut on the last baguette dough before handing over her tray to be baked.

"Hey, Marinette! Mind lending a hand with decorating these cakes?"

Marinette sighed but re-tied her apron, grabbed a piping bag filled with ganache and started a decorating the freshly baked opera cakes. Sabine came in to take the boxes and deliver them to the customer. "Marinette," said Sabine, "Alya called. I told her you'd call back later. Also, when you're finished with the opera cakes, I need you to go up the street and buy some more almond flour and pasteurized milk from the store. We're nearly out."

"Sure, maman," chirped Marinette.

Tom and Sabine continued to service the customers for the next few hours while Marinette manage to finish the cakes, fetch the ingredients and come back before the work load got too heavy. Thankfully, by the time the sun set, the crowd of customers has thinned out, giving the leftover employees a time to relax. Tom sat down on a nearby chair, happy to be off his feet for a while. Sabine comes up behind him and rubs his back, "You okay, dear?"

"Tired, very tired," confessed Tom, "I don't think I can handle another rush of customer. And I don't think I can hire more workers."

"We'll think of something," said Sabine.

"Excuse me," the couple looked up to see Simon poking her head out of the kitchen, "If I could make a suggestion: instead of hiring more workers, why not just hire an assistant?"

"An assistant?" repeated Sabine, looking at Tom.

"Yeah," Simon replied, "An assistant would be in-charge of taking customer orders, keeping inventory and restock, keep records of all the purchases, would cleanup the bakery after closing and overall supervise the workers when you two are too busy."

Simon smiled awkwardly as the couple looked at each other then smiled. "That sounds like a good idea," smiled Tom, "An assistant would keep a more orderly record then I could and would help organize the shop when the both of us are busy."

"Should we put an ad online for an assistant?" asked Sabine, "Someone who is flexible with time, can manage our staff and keep record, multi-task and isn't afraid to help out with baking if needed."

"If you want," pipped Simon, "I can ask some of my classmates at my college. There are several people I know looking for internship at a patisserie and others that want to experience so they can run their own business when they graduate."

"That seems like a great idea," replied Sabine, "We'll contact the school and ask if our bakery can be listed for a possible internship and you can tell you friends."

"Alright!" Simon smiled, pulling out her phone, "I'll send a group text to my classmates to see if any of them are interested in the position. When do you think will be the best time for interviews?"

"Sunday, the workload isn't as heavy and we close up shop early," answered Tom, pulling himself up as a customer walked in, "We'll take turns interviewing and watching the shop."

"We can start interviews around 9:30am," Sabine stated.

After several more walk-ins, the Dupin-Cheng's patisserie decided to closed the shop for the day. Unlike yesterday, they manage to clean up everything to a T and left before the sun set. Marinette trudged upstairs, washing herself clean of flour and various chocolate and icing stains. Sabine had informed her daughter that since the shop would be closing earlier tomorrow and their workload wasn't as large, Marinette was free from shop duty for tomorrow. Marinette sighed happily as she could sleep-in tomorrow and catch up on some of her homework.

Back with Tom and Sabine, they had received an email from Simon with a list of students interested in the position and would be available to interview for tomorrow. They were shocked by the quick reply but where also a bit relieved that they didn't have to wait weeks and interview many students at various dates. Tom and Sabine replied to each and every students, sent up a time to interview and waited for a confirmation.

"So...do you want to do the interviews or should I?" asked Sabine.

"What are we going to ask them?" questioned Tom.

"I'll get a pen and paper and we'll write them down," Sabine replied, fetching said materials.

Optimism soon died away after the first few interviews, and it was only a quarter 'till noon. Sabine groaned as she crossed out the seventh name on the list. "Only eighteen more to go," she moaned in disappointment.

The last girl was quite rude and acted entitled to the position, loudly declaring that Sabine was making a big mistake by dismissing her. Apparently, she was the daughter to some famous chef who owned a chain or stores though it was clear that the girl didn't have a gift for cooking or business. Her resume wasn't even impressive. The other six interviews weren't as terrible but couldn't fill the position due to class schedule or length of travel or due to plain-ol' inexperience. Tom popped his head into the room, looking at his dejected wife.

"No luck with the interviews?" he asked.

"None yet," she replied, getting up from her chair and stretching her back, "I'm hoping the other half will be a little bad. If not full-time assistant, part-time would be just as good."

"Don't give up, sweetie," Tom said, kissing his wife, "We'll find someone. Now, who's the next on the list."

"Um...Barbara Morel, she comes in at 12:30pm, then Edgar Chastain at 12:50pm, Francis Martel at 1:05pm and then fifteen more after that," answered Sabine, looking at the list, "You want to take over for a while?"

"Not as long as you mind working the front desk and packing desserts?" smirked Tom, handing her an apron.

Sabine snatched the apron, tied it around her waist and handed over the clipboard with various names and questions, "Good luck. You're going to need it."

Not long after the 19th interviewee slammed the door behind him, Sabine came in to check on her husband. Tom was put into a similar state as she was during the beginning interviews: rubbing his eyes, posture slumped and scanning the list in disappointment. "No luck?" asked Sabine.

"None," Tom informed, crossing out another name on the list, "Three students didn't even showed up for their interviews. One canceled due to finding another internship closer to her home and the one that just left has some anger problems. Maybe we should just forgo the intern-assistant and just put up an ad."

"Here," comforted Sabine, sitting next to her husband, "Let's do the last six together before we do anything else."

"What about the bakery?" argued Tom, "Shouldn't one of us being watching it?"

"It's passed 5pm, Tom," Sabine pointed to a nearby wall clock, "Bakery already closed."

"Huh, forgot it was this late already," Tom replied, yawning a bit.

"So? What do you say?" cheered Sabine, elbowing her husband, "Think you can handle a few more interviews?"

"Alright," agreed Tom, "Bring in the next student."

"You okay there, Tikki?" Marinette glanced down at her opened over the shoulder bag.

The red kwami nodded, slinking back into the fabric of the bag, "Yeah, just really tired. I need to recharge after that last akuma attack."

Marinette nodded. Just an hour ago, Ladybug and Chat Noir had to fight off Showtime, a flashy-primadonna-esque akuma that would force people to watch and cheer her on when pointed at them with her magician's wand. The victim was the lead singer of a popular theater group who was fired as her vanity, egotistical and temperamental personality made it difficult to work with. She was easy pickings for Hawk Moth's butterflies. It took nearly two hours of needless chasing and dodging Showtime, but it was surprisingly easy to subdue her. Showtime didn't try to take their Miraculous, she just really enjoyed being in the spotlight.

"Not a problem," replied Marinette, entering her home through the side door, "Mom and dad already closed up shop but I'm sure they brought some leftovers into the kitchen.

"Speaking of your parents," pipped Tikki, "How do you think they did with the interviews? Do you think they found someone to work as an assistant?"

"Eh..." croaked Marinette, looking uncomfortable at the question. During the morning, she had sort of eavesdropped on the beginning interviews and well...Marinette didn't have high hopes after those talks.

Climbing up the stairs, Marinette tried to wonder how she should act around her parents. She doubt the interviews bore any fruit if the morning interviews were anything to go by. Maybe she should cheer them up? Offer her time at the bakery again? Then again, it would be difficult to sneak out if an akuma attacks. By the time Marinette reached the top flight of stairs, she heard some sounds coming from her living room. Laughter, by the sounds of it, her parents and a third one voice whom she didn't recognize.

Opening the door, the bluenette found her parents seated on the couch, laughing and chatting away, along with another person. Sabine looked up and saw her daughter enter the room and ran up to her. "Marinette! There you are," smiled Sabine, pushing her towards the couch, "Come! Meet your father's assistant!"

"Assistant?" repeated Marinette, shocked, "You found an assistant?"

"Yes! Isn't it wonderful?" cheered Sabine.

"Marinette, meet our newest employee, Aristide Fournier," introduced Tom, waving towards the guest.

Aristide Fournier stood up from his seat and gave the Dupain-Cheng's daughter a gentle smile as he shook her hand. He was a very beautiful male, with cinnamon colored skin, piercing blue eyes with a side part pompadour hairstyle and an athletic built. Hell, Aristide could pass as a young Gaspard Ulliel with his looks. He dressed casually too with a white button-up shirt, black jeans and some sneakers. "I'm so glad to finally meet you all," he replied, his voice smooth and friendly.

"Aristide is studying in the same culinary school as Simon and is hoping to open his own shop back home," informed Tom, patting the boy on the back.

"I'm originally from Tampere in Finland," stated Aristide, "I'm staying with my grandparents while I attend university."

"Since the university agreed to Aristide internship at our bakery, he'll be working from Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Saturdays and Sundays from 8am to 3:30pm," explained Sabine, "We'll be training him the first week. You can help too, sweetie. When you're not busy with school of course."

"Uh...sure," blushed Marinette.

"I look forward to working with you, Miss Marinette," smiled Aristide.

And done! Again,sorry if this chapter is sort of awkward and rush. I've been assaulted with piles of homework, I had a field trip across state lines to NYC a a week ago, worked from 8am to 2am on a Sunday to finish a master painting for my oil painting class, did storyboarding for an elective class, had to finish some financial aid stuff and now I've just woken up from a nap after flying home at 7:30am. I just wanted the first chapter up and out onto the site before getting to the real stuff. I promise future chapters will be better.

Anyway, this chapter is just the introduction of the new bakery's assistant's Aristide Fouriner. And yes, I had him out to look like Gaspard Ulliel because that man is a gorgeous creature. Fight me. Anyway, next chapter will introduce Aristide to Marinette's classmates and the whole jealousy issue will commence. Get ready. Hopefully I get to update this as quick as I did with O & B if the homework amount doesn't kill me.

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