Mother… knows best?

In which Marinette's mother, Sabine, has impeccable timing and Ladybug forgot to close the trap door; again.

Sabine Dupain-Cheng was a diligent and loving woman, known for her grace and intelligence, but even this experienced mother with a troubled teen never expected her shy little girl to be what she was.

As the woman finished up the last batch of golden pastries for an order the following day, she indulged in the sweet scent of her bakery. Her husband, Tom, had hit the hay a little earlier than his wife, as she had the specialty with the cinnamon and cream dessert; a special recipe only known to their bakery.

The night was alit with Parisian lights and there was something mysterious, magical and meaningful in the air that night. A tinge of danger hung in the air though as an Akuma raged outside in the city. She knew Ladybug and Chat Noir had it under control, but her motherly instincts always led her to believe her daughter would get hurt, even if she was currently tucked in her bed…

Sabine heaved a heavy sigh and sprinkled the last bit of cinnamon over the pastry dish, placing it in the extremely large fridge behind her. When that was done, she stretched her arms above her head, relaxing her muscles.

Firstly she would go check on her daughter and then she would return to bed.

She climbed up the long flight of stairs with heavy feet, opened up the trap door and peered inside. Her eyes immediately darted to the bed, but what remained there was no one. She glanced to the desk, to see if her daughter had possible fallen asleep while working. She wasn't there either.

The window was opened.

Sabine gasped quietly as a lone figure swept into the room, disrupting the curtains like a lone wind in the night.

Ladybug, Paris' favourite heroine stood in her daughter's room!

Hero or not, that was breaking and entering and Sabine would not stand for it. She slipped into the room as quietly as a mouse, as to not alarm the superhero of her presence.

Then, Ladybug exclaimed with an exhausted sigh, "Tikki, revert me!"

A flash of red enveloped the girl and Ladybug was replaced with Marinette. Just like her mother, the girl stretched her arms above her head, groaning at the stiff muscles.

Sabine gasped, torso visible through the trap door. Marinette snapped her head to the direction of her mother, just as she exclaimed her daughter's name.

"You… you're Ladybug!"

Marinette was frozen in shock, just like her mother, gaping at the older woman.

"Mom… I … I can explain."

Sabine Dupain-Cheng stared at the red kwami.

So tiny!

"Do you want another cookie, sweetie?" she asked the kwami. The kwami's already large blue eyes stretched even wider. She nodded eagerly, and said, "The vanilla ones, please!"

Sabine gracefully handed the fairy a cookie and she gracefully started nibbling on her second snack.

Then her eyes locked with her daughter's.

"Marinette."

"Mom."

"Marinette."

"Mom."

"This can go on forever. Was that what you wanted?"

"Mom."

"Marinette."

"Okay, okay, I'll talk." Marinette conceded. She gestured to Tikki. "This is Tikki."

Past midnight conversations with her daughter went nothing like Sabine expected. Especially since the teen was being very secretive and stubborn, considering there was a red fairy in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry I never told you, mom."

"That you're Ladybug! This is a big deal, sweetie!"

"I know, I know, but so far you're the first I've told. Not even Chat has the vaguest idea of who I am."

Meanwhile Adrien sneezed in his mansion.

"Tell me you're not getting sick!" Plagg groaned.

"I'm your mother."

"I know and I love you for that, but could you please keep this a secret, mom?"

Sabine pondered the situation for a second, eyes locked on the plate of cookies instead of her daughter. A wave of courage overwhelmed Marinette and she clasped her hands over her mother's. Her voice was just above a whisper when she continued.

"If it's any consolation, mother knows best, right?"

Sabine sighed. "Just don't keep anything from me in the future, alright?"

Marinette nodded. "Deal."

The next morning, a vibrant Sunday, a shriek of maniacal laughter echoed through the streets of Paris. Marinette and her mother shared a look, and just like that her daughter fled the bakery.

"Where is she going?" Tom demanded, but his wife only smiled.

"To do something great. Now where are those balls of dough I set out last Friday?"