Author's Notes:

Thanks as always to Enberlight for the beta read!

Diving back into the A Little Sketchy-verse here.

This one is likely to go more towards a higher rating, but there will be nothing outright explicit in this piece.


Wiggling out from behind a cascading scarlet fall of fabric with one last pin tucked between her lips, Marinette leaned back on her knees to scrutinize her creation.

It had to be just right.

It had to be.

She only had one more day before Gabriel Agreste himself would come in and tear it apart for the slightest flaws.

Of course, it wasn't every day that the man's only son would be getting married.

Sighing, Marinette spat out the pin, grumbling at the memory of the long, staid marketing discussion Gabriel's longtime secretary laid out in painful depth.

The reputation of the brand was at stake.

Her soon-to-be father-in-law could afford to be picky. He already hadn't gotten his way, and seemed hellbent on making sure he would get it one way or another.

Grinning, Marinette smoothed a careful hand over the satin skirt. Since she'd given him the book, there was hardly a day that had gone by that Adrien hadn't touted her talent and marveled at her designs.

When his father had insisted upon designing the dress, Adrien had declined. He wanted to see her in the dress she'd envisioned.

Enough so that he'd even put his foot down with his father, something that would have been unheard of only a few years before.

Gabriel had eventually relented, rather unwillingly, with the caveat that he had to approve of the finished product.

And he - well, mostly his capable assistant - took most of the details of planning into hand, seeking out some of the most extravagantly chic decor and accessories that money could buy.

But that wasn't what would make Adrien happy. It never was.

Too bad his father had never realized that.

She grimaced, reeling herself back up off of aching knees, and headed down to the cafe. Normal business hours had ended, but she probably had at least another hour or two of work ahead of her before she'd be satisfied with the dress.

Of course, all of her stubbornness hadn't come without a cost.

Absently, her fingers drifted up to the strand of blue beads in a tiny cloth pouch, she'd been keeping next to her heart.

It had been days. Three full, lonely days, where she hadn't been able to see Adrien.

Sure, they had called one another, but considering just how long they had been by each other's side, it truly wasn't the same.

Its soft weight had kept him close by, even if the strand was near to falling apart.

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips as she stepped onto the elevator. He had been in a hurry that night, and she was never more glad for it.

However, his father had been ruthless, running him ragged for months now. Gabriel had decreed that if they wanted a honeymoon, it would need to be during a certain slate of weeks, dodging the summer line to having him back in time for the Paris Fashion week prep.

Sneaking away from Paris unnoticed for a few weeks would be challenge enough.

Mostly to appease his father - and because they both placed value on doing this part of things on their own - they both had relented.

But Marinette had expected that she would at least get to see him from time to time when they were working in the same building.

Instead, she had barely seen the back of his head as he'd been ferried off in the opposite direction hours ago, when she'd been left holding her breath against the growing wave of disappointment.

Tikki's presence in her bag must have brought the tiniest bit of luck.

She was sure of it when Adrien's head had turned, wheatgrass green eyes softening as they locked with hers. His smile was apologetic as he allowed himself to be dragged away.

Marinette sighed as the elevator door slid open, stepping away from the wall, she strode to the sole source of quality caffeine in the building. Unfortunately, that was the closest together they'd been in days.


The one perk of being the boss's son was that no one complained when he kicked them all out of his dressing room.

But it didn't come without its pitfalls. Everywhere, he was surrounded by eyes ready to report his slightest slip up to his father.

Right now, he didn't dare put one foot wrong. His father had been...helpful thus far. But he'd only gotten his way by promising that he wouldn't go and see the dress until it was on her on their wedding day.

His father had agreed...eventually. But only after he saw just how stubborn he was willing to be.

So that was the deal. If Marinette wanted to prove her mettle to him, she had to do it on her own.

It didn't hurt that he wasn't exactly willing to borrow trouble. He'd spent years borrowing his powers from Plagg's never-ending pool of bad luck.

It was the third technical photo shoot of the day, and he'd been up since well before daybreak to take advantage of the early morning light. And the cooler hours. Long sleeves were bad enough at 7 am. They were murder in summer at noon.

"I can't go in to her office, Plagg. I've spent the past few months literally hearing that I cannot see the dress." He raked his fingers through his hair. You know we both could use all the luck we can get.

Plagg scoffed. "You don't think Tikki is helping?"

Adrien sighed, shrugging out of the shirt. "I'm sure she's trying to. I'm just not sure it will counter what you can stir up."

He pulled out his phone, sending Marinette a text. Time to meet up?

To his delight, she'd called back instantly.

"I've bit more to do on the dress."

Marinette was quiet. A little too quiet. "Avoiding home too?"

A weary sigh slipped over the line. "Uncle Chang arrived yesterday. Unfortunately, so did his wife. She's a bit...much? 'This is lucky. That is unlucky. Why are you not adhering to the traditions?"' I'll never understand how he was always so patient."

"Well, to be fair, Chloe did manage to make him mad."

Marinette scoffed. "Chloe could have driven anyone mad."

Adrien smirked, stepping out of the pants to change back into his jeans. "True, but you have to admit, she has gotten better over the years."

"Oh, I don't know." Marinette chuckled. "I think Nathaniel might disagree..."

"Huh?" Adrien frowned. "Don't think I caught that."

She snorted. "He's attending - technically - as Chloe's plus one. That was maybe the most memorable invitation response. Alya was helping me out with those, and she made sure I noticed that little tidbit."

They were having a ceremony. And a full blown reception. And then an after party at one of the upscale clubs where Nino worked.

It was a lot to balance. Naturally, Nathalie had stepped in for the more formal organization, but clearly Alya had organization of the afterparty well in hand.

They both had enough on their plates right now. "Need a rescue, Princess?"

He grinned, sitting down to lace up one his favorite, well worn pair of sneakers. He was sure he could see her roll her eyes.

"Yes, but you won't come here in save me." She sassed.

"He's being ridiculous." Plagg snorted, piping up from where he had been napping.

"Well, that sounds like him…"

"Hey." Adrien grumbled.

"He thinks my bad luck is rubbing off," his kwami chuckled. "I keep telling him that's not how this works…"

"I just think it's bad enough being the technical avatar of bad luck." He chided the pair of them. Plagg was bad enough, but lately Marinette had just delighted in encouraging him. "With all of this...I just don't want to take any chances."

"You shouldn't worry, Chaton." Marinette hummed softly, cradling the phone to her ear. "I always have a bit of luck to spare for you."

He was glad he was sitting down, because hearing that sort of thing from her was never going to grow old.

"But," she chided, "since you're unwilling to come and rescue me from here…"

"Not unwilling, Marinette. Unable." He wouldn't give his father the slightest cause to doubt her...or to think that he was doubting her. "Anyways, if I can't rescue you from this tower...maybe I can find you in another tower?"

"Later?" She mused aloud, the airy chuckle betraying her coy game. "Maybe in a few hours."

"Sounds purrfect." He smirked, slinging his duffel bag onto his shoulder.

Even Plagg rolled his eyes this time.

"Dork."

"Yes," Adrien grinned, leaning back against the door. "But I'm your dork."