Notes:

This is my 500 follower Thank you! fic for Freedom_Shamrock!

Life has had me busy, so I've had to puzzle this one with not nearly enough time to write. I have started into the second chapter, and hope to keep this story short...but I have such an awful track record in puzzling out how long any of my stories may go. :D

Whenever anyone asked for help, Marinette never hesitated to answer the call.

It was why she didn't hesitate to pick up the phone that day, just as she was leaving her classes at the University. It was why she'd called her own mother as she hustled across the campus, letting her know that something had come up.

When it was one of her old classmates - who had been there through some of the craziest times - coming to her own aid on either side of the mask far too many times?

There was very little she wouldn't do for any one of them.

Even Chloe.

She sprinted to the tall apartment complex where her friends now lived, just a few blocks down from her own apartment. Even as she had to run up the steps, she hadn't been winded in the least.

All of the hours she spent racing across the rooftops made all of that a breeze.

Smiling, Marinette knocked on the door, shifting anxiously on the balls of her feet.

She didn't have to wait long, but she definitely had to look up. It was hard not to. Ivan had grown at least another half a foot since she'd seen him last.

But the tiny toddler nestled in his arms was new. His tiny thumb planted firmly in his mouth, round eyes watching her with a mix of interest and concern, even as his tiny head head was half-buried into his Father's well worn metal t-shirt.

He breathed an audible sigh of relief, toddler still cradling gently against his broad chest as he picked up bag after bag near the door. "Thank you so much for doing this, Marinette!"

"No problem." She bit her lip, accepting each one he'd handed to her. "Are you both ready?"

Ivan's grin was rueful, as the little one in his arms fussed. "Probably not. But this little one seems just as impatient as his brother." He bounced the little boy in his arms, his fluffy shock of dark hair bouncing half a beat behind with each lift. "Mylene is already at the hospital and her father is on the way back from Nice now...It's just so much earlier than we thought."

"Don't worry, Ivan." Marinette patted his arm. "She'll be fine. Mylene has always been a lot stronger than she looks."

"She just has to be so scared." He dragged his free hand over his face, crestfallen. "I know I am."

Marinette smiled, holding her arms out. "Which is why she needs you there beside her. Right?"

Ivan smiled sweetly, picking up and handing her bag after bag.

"Bottles are in the green bag, as is a bit of formula and the soap to clean it. I have a list in there for all that he'll eat without a whole lot of fuss. Diapers and wipes are in the blue bag, along with all his outfits."

Marinette nodded, her eyes growing far too wide. So much stuff, for such a little one?

"I think there's a bit of detergent in there as well…" He grimaced, shaking his head. "If not, we'll reimburse you later if need be."

With evident practice, he showed her how to strap the carrier onto her chest and nestled the tiny, fussing toddler into it.

Marinette nodded, a little breathless as she mentally replayed all of the instructions in her own mind, gently still bouncing a bit on her heels to help soothe the little boy. "O-okay. Got it."

Relief flooded his features, as Ivan scooped up his keys and his phone, and another two bags for himself tugging the door shut behind them both.

"I'll call later to check in, if you have anymore questions."

Leaning down, Ivan pressed a gentle kiss to his one year old's tiny forehead. "G'bye, mon petit loup. Be good, for Tata Marinette."

The pair of them watched out the hallway window as Ivan scrambled down the steps under the weight of a few heavy bags, the downstairs door slamming noisily shut on his heels.

She stared down at the little boy, his lips growing into a trembling pout as his father jumped into the waiting cab.

Aptly, he howled in protest, beating his tiny fists against her chest. "Papa! Papa!"

She blew out a ragged breath as Tikki phased out of her bag to meet her gaze.

This was not the type of battle she'd ever trained for.

Author's Notes:

Big thanks to Lahiffed for help in coming up with this little one's name! :D