(Originally written for AU August - 24 - Workplace. I took some liberties with the workplace, hee hee.)

Masquerade

Adrien stepped out onto the empty balcony, reached up and loosened his bright green tie, before giving in and tearing it off his collar completely. Finally, he could breathe. He took a deep, deep breath of cool night air, and immediately shucked off his dinner coat as well. His ostentatious mask soon followed, and he briefly considered throwing it into the garden below. But no, his father would kill him. He was pretty sure there were real emeralds and maybe even gold thread woven into that thing.

If anything else, Gabriel Agreste's family always had to be the height of fashion.

Speaking of… Adrien looked down at himself, free of all the extra odds-and-ends that his father had designed for him to wear tonight. Thankfully, all of that had gone into the coat, tie, and mask. He was much happier like this.

Simple, black and white. Still elegant, but… he reached up and ruffled his own hair, grimacing when it crackled under his fingers from all the gel. Adrien didn't stop ruffling it until it stopped crackling, though. His hair should be able to breathe for a moment too. He took another deep breath and leaned against the balcony's railing; content to just relax and be himself for a moment.

After all, he thought with a shudder, soon he'd have to go back. Soon he'd have to put that stupid mask back on and pretend to smile while Chloe and Lila fought over who got to be on his arm.

It was how he'd gotten out here in the first place. They'd been tugging on him so much that his tie had become askew. Then, they'd fought over who got to fix it; each of them "fixing" it tighter and tighter and tighter….

Nathalie was the one who'd realized he couldn't breathe and sent him to the bathroom to fix it himself.

Instead, Adrien had escaped to the balcony.

God, he hated these parties. Inane small talk, barely veiled threats and backstabbing, having to listen to people go on and on about their stupid clothes….

"There you are!" a voice behind him exclaimed. Adrien stiffened and turned around slowly, his heart only slowing down when he realized he didn't know this woman.

But damn, if she wasn't cute.

Black pigtails, bright blue eyes—her outfit was more severe than the rest of the girls here, but she'd somehow made it work for her.

A waitress, he realized, as he took in her attire. She wasn't wearing a huge ballgown like the rest of the female guests, and her mask was simple and white. Black pants, a white button-down shirt, a black vest—

She grabbed him, tugging him towards the door. "C'mon," she said impatiently, "Charlie's gonna pitch a fit if anymore of you guys go outside to 'sample the dishes.' I know you're just a temp worker and you're not used to this, but you could at least make an effort…."

Black pants, a white button-down shirt, black vest—which was exactly what he was wearing, Adrien realized as she tugged him into the kitchen. Without his elaborate mask, tie, and dinner coat….

She'd mistaken him for a server!

"Um, miss—err, ma'am—" he stammered, as she handed him a tray of flutes filled with champagne. "I'm not—"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Fine, I'll take the drinks. You follow me with the hors d'oeuvres. And don't you dare think of scampering away to eat some!" she said, swapping trays with him effortlessly. Adrien stared at her, wide-eyed, as he tried to copy her movements and hold the tray so he didn't spill anything.

"Where's your mask?!" she asked, still clearly upset with him. He gestured helplessly outside with his free hand. She glared at him, but, before he could speak again, she set her tray down and whipped a spare mask out of her apron. "I'm not even gonna ask what happened to your apron," she muttered.

Adrien could only stare at her as she leaned in close to put it on properly. She smelled like cookies. After hours of being pressed up against two girls who smelled like they'd bathed in perfume… it was a really nice change.

Finally, his new friend stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Your hair's a mess, but that's okay," she said, giving him a final once-over. "Just act like a gentleman and the girls will immediately fall all over your 'handsome rouge' act." She shot him a wink as she picked her tray back up.

"And don't forget to smile!"

Adrien shot her an uneasy half-smile, which made her laugh.

"Exactly! C'mon."

Adrien followed automatically, still trying to convince his non-functioning brain to just tell her there'd been a mistake and go back to the party as himself. But, there was another part of him, deep down inside, that was bouncing with excitement.

Can I really pull this off?

What if nobody realizes it's me?

What kinds of things could I do… if I'm not being Adrien Agreste?

The masquerade ball took on a whole new light as he exited the kitchen, still following the waitress with blue-black pigtails. Nobody looked at him (except to spare a glance for what he was carrying), nobody spoke to him (not even to ask him to move, they simply assumed he would step out of the way), and certainly nobody tried to butter him up or hang on him (Chloe and Lila were currently cooing over a boy that Adrien recognized as Prince Ali, who looked very uncomfortable—Adrien sent up a small prayer on his behalf).

It was… liberating.

"Hey—HEY!"

Adrien jumped, just barely managing to not spill anything on his tray. He looked over to see his fellow waitress glaring at him impatiently. Oh, right. He was supposed to be following her. He quickly scurried back to her side.

"I know it's bad form to ask for names at a masquerade, but if you're going to keep drifting into La-La Land, I'm gonna need to call you something," the waitress muttered to him as they continued to make their way through the crowds.

"Huh?" Adrien tore his eyes away from an exchange between two people he'd always thought liked each other. As soon as they turned away from each other, however, their happy faces dropped and pure disgust showed. Adrien was amazed. No wonder Mother had always said that the servants' gossip was always worth listening to. It was incredible, what people thought they could get away with when nobody "important" was listening.

"Your name!" his companion hissed, breaking his concentration again. "Give me something I can call you, before we get separated again!"

Adrien blinked at her wildly. He couldn't give her his real name! That would completely blow his cover! Quickly he looked around for a name. Someone he knew, maybe? Nearby, something caught his eye. One woman's masquerade dress was clearly cat-themed—her mask was cut to resemble ears, with bits hanging down like whiskers; she even had a bell around her neck, cute!

"Chat," Adrien said absently.

"What? You want me to call you Chat?" his new work-buddy said.

"Well, you can't ask for my real name, right?" he said, grinning at her winningly. "So, yeah. Chat Noir."

The girl let out a short laugh. "All right, then, kitty. Chat it is." She turned to continue her loop around the room.

Adrien hurried to catch up. "And what can I call you, m'lady?" he purred, enjoying getting into character.

Another laugh. "'My lady' sounds fine to me," she said, smiling at a guest who was helping himself to her tray.

"Aww, but I can call anyone that," 'Chat' pouted. "I need something uniquely… you!"

"How about Ladybug then?" the girl said, tapping her spotted earrings playfully.

Chat felt his grin grow. "Perfect, Bugaboo!"

Ladybug levelled a glare at him. "No. Not Bugaboo."

"Bugsy? Buginette?"

"Ugh, worse and worse," she moaned. "Just stick with 'my lady.'"

"As you wish, my lady," Chat said happily. This night was looking better and better! He turned to give her a bow, and nearly upended his tray. Ladybug rolled her eyes at him and tapped him playfully on the shoulder.

"Concentrate, alley cat!"

Now that he had a new name, Adrien was able to lose himself fully in the persona of the waiter known as Chat Noir. He bowed and flirted with the guests (and with Ladybug!), all of whom seemed to laugh easier and more whole-heartedly than they ever had with Adrien Agreste.

By the time he and Ladybug had finished a couple of loops around the room, their trays were empty several times over, and Adrien was having the time of his life. He and Ladybug had made a game of it, handing out jokes and puns as much as drinks and hors d'oeuvres. He followed his partner back into the kitchen, still laughing at his last bad joke.

Ladybug smirked at him, grabbed his tray and handed him a bottle of water. Adrien took it gladly. He'd gotten warmer than ever in there, but he'd hardly noticed.

Ah, the freedom of not being his father's child!

"You've never worked a day in your life, have you?"

Adrien choked on his drink, coughing as he looked up at Ladybug. She was raising an eyebrow at him.

"Of-of course I have!" he sputtered, offended. "I work all the time!"

"Not this kind of work."

Adrien looked away. A few moments of tense silence stretched out between them.

"I wanted to get away for a while," he finally admitted.

"And you never thought of the repercussions if you—or I—were caught?" Ladybug pressed, now looking angry. "If they found out I mistook a guest for a server, I'd lose my job!"

"That won't happen," Adrien said sullenly.

"Oh, won't it?"

"I won't let it!" he snapped.

She scoffed. "You really think you can influence Chloe Bourgeois?"

"Yes," Adrien smirked. That was one of the few things he was sure of.

Ladybug paled a bit. "Just—just who are you?" she asked quietly. He gave her a dry stare and tapped his mask.

No names at a masquerade.

"It's almost midnight," she said softly. Adrien drew in a breath. Midnight was when Chloe had planned for everyone to reveal themselves and have a good laugh at the antics of the night. But both she and Lila had been overtly obvious in their identities throughout the night already. There was no need for him to pretend to be surprised.

In fact, the only person Adrien really wanted to know the identity of… was the girl in front of him.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," he offered.

Ladybug blinked at him, then shook her head and backed away. "You just want to get me fired," she whispered.

"No, I don't!" Adrien assured her, stepping forward to catch her before she could flee completely, "I promise! I've never had so much fun!"

She gave him a disbelieving look. "I made you serve hors d'oeuvres all night!"

Adrien smirked. "And I could've gotten away I'd really wanted to," he pointed out. He stepped forward again and caught her hand. "Please, my lady," he said softly, kissing her knuckles. "A name."

In the ballroom, the clock struck midnight.

Ladybug opened her mouth to answer him—

—and Nathalie pushed her way into the kitchen.

"There you are, Adrien!" she said, sounding exasperated. "Miss Bourgeois has been quite upset at your extended absence!"

"I… I…."

All he could think of was the fact that Ladybug had slipped away from him and was now disappearing through another pair of doors in the kitchen. He'd never see her again. Didn't know her name, or how to contact her.

His heart broke.

"Well, Adrien?" Nathalie called. He looked over to see her raising an eyebrow at him. She opened the door to the ballroom; full of lights, and glitter, and hundreds of people chatting inanely.

Adrien shot off after Ladybug.

"Cover for me, won't you, Nathalie?!" he called over his shoulder.

"ADRIEN?!" came Nathalie's astonished cry.

He ignored her, focusing on finding the one person who had made this night his best night ever. He burst through the same doors she had gone through to find another kitchen, this one with several bakers in it.

Before he could even open his mouth, the bakers grinned at each other and pointed towards a set of doors on the other side of the room.

"Better hurry, kid," the big one called. "She's a quick one."

Adrien yelled out his thanks as he raced on in the direction they'd pointed him. The doors led to a hallway. Adrien paused.

Left or right? Left or right?

To his right, the door leading to a stairway was swinging slightly, as if someone had just come through it. Adrien grinned, taking off in that direction. He'd just gotten inside when he realized he'd have no way of knowing which floor she'd gone to….

No, I won't give up! He thought, looking around desperately for any sort of clue—

"Your service was exceptionally slow tonight, Marinette," he heard a voice below him say. "But I'll let it go this one time. I've never seen you look so happy! Did you get his number? Or at least his name?"

"No, sir," a soft voice answered.

"What a pity. You deserve to be happy, Marinette."

He heard a door below him close, and practically flew down the stairs.

That was her. It had to be! She'd been slow tonight because she'd been having fun! With him! And if she'd really been as happy as he was…!

Adrien rounded the next flight of stairs and stopped short.

There she was. Still in the stairwell, at the very bottom of the stairs. His Ladybug.

And her mask was off.

She was wiping away a few tears, and she whirled around to face him. Her eyes widened.

"Chat?!"

He reached up and wrenched his mask off as he made his way down the stairs.

"Adrien," he said, striding towards her determinedly. "Adrien Agreste."

She gasped in horror, covering her face with her hands.

"Oh, no, no, no!" she whispered, backing up until she was pressed against a wall. "Your father's going to kill me!"

"Nobody's going to kill you," he assured her, unable to stop smiling now that he had her in his sights. He stopped a few feet away. "Marinette, wasn't it?"

She gulped, her face reflecting the fear that she must still have. Oh, what he wouldn't give to magically wipe it all away! For the first time in his life, he could finally understand how the prince could fall in love with Cinderella after one night at the ball.

Of course, instead of falling for the girl with the fancy dress, he himself had been turned into a servant in this fairy tale! He smiled, hoping to make her feel more at ease.

"Do I truly frighten you, my lady?" he asked, adopting his Chat persona one more time. He took her hand and lightly kissed her knuckles, just as he'd done a dozen times during this magical night. "If so, just say the word, and this cat will scurry back to the alley from whence he came, never to be heard from again."

Please, please, don't turn me away.

Please, my lady.

"Yes," she said softly. Adrien felt his heart break a second time.

But then….

"Yes, my name is Marinette," she continued, her voice slowly getting stronger. "And you are a stupid, stupid cat if you thought I would spend all night with someone I never cared to hear from again—!"

Adrien couldn't help it. He swept her up into his arms, bending down to give her a kiss that took his breath away.

It was thrilling… and terrifying. On one hand, he was kissing her! His Ladybug! But, on the other hand, he was kissing her! And she was frozen in shock—and, oh crap, I didn't think that through—what if she hates me—what if she changes her mind and runs away and I never, ever see her again—!

Then, she was kissing him back; wrapping her arms around his neck and threading her fingers through his hair while her head tilted, granting him more access. He took it gleefully.

"Oh, and Marinette—OH, SWEET MERCY! AS YOU WERE, MY GIRL!"

Adrien and Marinette barely had time to break apart in surprise before whoever had interrupted them went right back out the way they came. Still clutching him, Marinette started giggling.

"We should get back," she said. "I have to start cleanup, and you…." She trailed off, looking up at him.

"I have to check in at some point," Adrien admitted reluctantly. "But there's no reason why I can't hang out for at least a little bit… and maybe help you some more?" he added, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Marinette winked at him. "I'm sure we can find a job for an old alley cat."

End.