Note: Written between Seasons 1 and 2.

Thank you to Spacecadet72 for brainstorming and squeeing and jdphoenix for betaing and even more squeeing. :D

Chat Noir stretches his claws forward as he runs, pumping his legs to the very limit of his abilities. His muscles burn, even with the extra strength and stamina the suit grants him. Every vault with his staff gets him closer to her, to his Lady.

But not close enough, never close enough.

She is held aloft in the paper strands of Ticker Tape, her body still as a doll, the two of them staying just ahead of him. They are heading somewhere south through the city. Most of the citizens of Paris are focused on the Bastille Day fireworks at the Eiffel Tower, reacting with oohs and aahs to each flash of colorful light. No one notices the chase across the rooftops.

He has to reach her; he can't lose her now, not when everything is changing between them.

Where are they going? He suspects deep inside, though he isn't sure why, that he is being led to Hawk Moth's lair.

Chat growls, low in his throat. If Hawk Moth hurts Ladybug, Chat will tear everything to shreds—every brick and beam, every fluttering wing. Chat will tear the Miraculous from Hawk Moth's body, and if anything else tears away, so much the better…

They stop, Ticker Tape perched on the top of a high tower. Even with his night vision, Chat can't make out which building it is; he's not close enough. He leaps, farther than he's leapt before, just catching the words of Ticker Tape on the night wind. "Remove your Miraculous and give it to me."

"No!" he shouts, mid-flight, but her hands are moving to her ears. He focuses in, on her slender fingertips closing on the clasp on her left earlobe, just as he lands. His claws screech into the concrete of the building several meters down from where Ticker Tape has Ladybug in thrall.

And then the earring comes undone, and a flash of brilliant red magical light blends into the fireworks lighting the darkened sky.

One Week Ago

Marinette slides into her seat beside Alya, placing her bag on the seat beside her. Alya looks up, her eyes going wide with surprise behind the lenses of her glasses. "Wait. Is this a mirage I see in front of me?" She waves her hands back and forth in front of Marinette, as if to dispel a vision. "It must be. There is no way that Marinette Dupain-Cheng is actually on time."

Marinette flushes, pink spots highlighting the tops of her cheekbones. "Alya…"

Alya makes a big show, patting Marinette on the shoulders and down her arms. "Hmm. Feels real. Maybe another akuma on the loose? A scoop for the Ladyblog!"

"Keep your voice down," Mariette says, annoyed now. "I couldn't be late on the last day."

Alya purses her lips. "Sounds fake, but okay." Then she smiles in apology and nods her head toward the empty seat beside Nino right in front of them. "If you were trying get a chance to talk to Prince Charming, looks like you're out of luck."

Marinette had noticed, of course. It isn't like Adrien to be late to class, not when she knows his driver drops him off every day at 8:15AM on the dot. She turns her head to look out into the hallway, trying to catch a glimpse of him coming up the stairs.

She sighs. Nowhere to be seen. The class is noisy, talking as they wait for their teacher to arrive, most of the conversations about what they're going to do with their summer holidays. The answer has always been the same for Marinette: work in her parents' bakery, take on a couple of design projects, maybe go on a weekend trip with her parents once or twice if they can afford to close the shop.

Not this summer.

July and August stretch ahead of her, full of possibility. Sure, she's going to do all that other stuff, but she is also going to have so much more to do. She can actively patrol with Chat Noir, doing more than reacting to Hawk Moth's akumas. They can seek him out themselves, try to hit him before he hits them.

"...what Adrien is going to do?" Alya is saying. Hearing Adrien's name breaks her out of her thoughts and she tries to focus on just what words Alya's lips are forming. Those lips quirk in a knowing smile. "You're thinking about him, aren't you? Should have known by the spacey look on your face."

Marinette flushes for the second time that morning. "N-no…" She can't tell Alya what she was thinking about, other than in the most general terms. "Just thinking about how I want to spend my summer. What do you have planned?"

Alya's expression is flat. "Girl, you really didn't hear anything I just said?"

Marinette shakes her head.

Alya lets out an exasperated sigh. "Adrien better get here soon or you won't be able to focus at all. Anyway…"

Marinette listens as Alya tells her all about how she's going to revamp the Ladyblog, how she's going to hit the pavement and recruit spotters all over town. Marinette schools her face to look excited and interested, but she's really making mental notes on how to avoid Alya and her minions. She and Chat Noir are going to have to be twice as careful about their transformations.

"All right, come to order, class," Ms. Bustier calls over the hubbub in the room, and Mariette dutifully turns her attention to the teacher. "I know you all are looking forward to the long holiday—" there's a rumble of assent around the room— "but we do have one day left. For your final assignment—graded, of course—" now a rumble of complaint— "I want you to write a short essay, inspired by our Paris heroes, Ladybug and Chat Noir."

Marinette's chest grows warm with pride as Ms. Bustier turns to write on the board: How I Would Make Paris a Better Place.

"In other words, if you had powers like Ladybug and Chat Noir, how would you use them for good in our city?"

A few excited suggestions ring out, but Ms. Bustier holds up her hands to quiet them. "Save your enthusiasm for the essay! This is due by the end of class. Begin."

Marinette grins. This assignment should be a piece of cake—and just as delicious as the ones her dad makes. She hands it in early enough that she has time to worry as she looks at the empty seat in front of her. What happened to Adrien?

If anyone is looking for Adrien, they probably won't find him. Not in any of the usual places, anyway. Not in his room, not anywhere in his house, not at school, not in his driver's car, not with his father or his secretary, Nathalie.

And that's on purpose.

As he sits on a rooftop on the opposite side of Paris from his usual haunts, it's killing him not to be at school. Not to see his friends again, or see what the last day of school for the year was really like. Being homeschooled until this year means that he really never experienced the ups and downs of breaks and holidays and school. And he wants to be there. So badly that a supernova of desire lights his chest and radiates all the way out the tips of his fingers and toes.

But he can't. If he goes anywhere he's expected, he'll be found.

That's the last thing he wants. His father dropped a bomb last night—the two of them would be heading for Milan for the summer for a holiday full of photo shoots and shows. No amount of arguing and rational discussion would change his mind. And all the while they were talking he kept making weirdly cryptic remarks about how unsafe the city is these days.

As if. It's safer now than ever. Without he and Ladybug, Paris would have been destroyed several times over by now. How can he possibly leave when he's responsible for the safety of the entire city? And worse, how can he leave Ladybug to fend for herself?

So early in the morning, he packed a bag with some clothes, some cash and some food, but left his phone behind. He snuck out a window and walked far enough away to transform, then found a place far away to hide and think. His father probably won't notice his absence until later today. Adrien wouldn't be surprised if he failed to notice until he left for the airport.

Adrien doesn't know where he's going to stay, how he's going to support himself once what he'd taken with him runs out, but he feels free, as free as he usually feels with the Chat Noir costume on. Free from his father's expectations and criticism, free from his overscheduled life, free to choose the life he wants for himself. In a week it will be Bastille Day, a celebration of independence. Today feels like his own independence day.

He looks back toward the Eiffel Tower, toward where he knows his school, his friends are. He's free from them, too. He can't see them, any of them, just in case they get caught up in his father's search. But he can't help but wonder—have any of them even noticed that he's gone?

I have two more chapters written, which I will post every few days until I'm caught up. Then I hope to update every 7-10 days. Reviews feed a writer's soul!