They're perched on a beam near the top of the Eiffel Tower, staring down at the starscape of lights in the city below. The moon is low on the horizon, the crescent glow laying gently on the curve of far away buildings. Patrol is over for the night. No Akumas. Only a few petty crimes. One dog with a fresh litter of puppies safely transported to a nearby shelter. It's late, well past two in the morning and far past time for the superheroes to have left for bed, but they've been lingering later and later on the quiet nights, enjoying time together that isn't spent fighting for their lives.
Chat sighs, stretching out on the beam and shivering as the chill from the steel seeps through his suit. Autumn has made everything cold these past few weeks. "My Lady?" he asks the night sky and at her hum of acknowledgment he curls up on his side where there is no chance of him catching her eye. "You're a girl."
"I thought you were aware of that."
"Yes! It's just - you're a girl, so, you know more about girls than I do." He tries desperately to ignore her giggles and the blush that erupts across his face. He's trying to have a serious conversation here!
"Well I hope I would know more about girls than you. Otherwise I'd be doing a rather poor job of being one."
Alright. He can see where she's coming from there. Still, "Can I ask you a question? About real life?"
Real life. He says that sometimes. Being Chat Noir is more real to him than being the boy behind the mask. Adrien Agreste has to be perfect - the perfect model, the perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect product - but Chat, Chat Noir is free. Chat can fall on his face and make silly puns and run around the Paris rooftops laughing and shouting and chasing the woman he loved for her confidence, her charisma, her dedication. To be honest, he might not have even kept up with the superhero thing if it wasn't for Ladybug.
"What kind of question?" Her tone is suspicious, cautious, but she hasn't shot him down.
He scrambles to reply. "Nothing about you! And I won't use names or anything, not even places or anything that could give any hint as to who I am or who I know or anything about that!" He sucks in a lungful of air and holds it, terrified, hopeful, ready to be disappointed but accepting if she says no.
"I suppose." He lets out his breath. "So long as you're really careful. Is the question about a girl?"
"Yeah." He's quiet for a long minute, trying to think of how to phrase things. "I met her about the same time I met you and she didn't like me, but we're friends now. Or, well, I think we're friends?" He huffs, dangling an arm over the edge. Ladybug is quiet. Listening. "I want us to be friends. But, it's just - it seems like every time we interact - she always acts so forced and I don't know what to do to make it better! And our friends are no help because they're nearly dating so they pair off all the time and that leaves us alone and she always runs away. Or she won't even talk to me. Or look at me."
He'd gotten loud somewhere there in the middle, frustration getting to him, but he's nearly whispering by the end, a sad, confused breath of words because he doesn't understand. He doesn't get it. He lays on his belly and buries his face in his elbow.
"She hates me, doesn't she?"
Ladybug's fingers brush hesitantly at the tips of his hair before sliding deeper, scratching gently between his ears. He must look a mess if she's letting down her barriers this much. Merde he's pathetic.
"Oh, Chaton, I don't think she hates you." He mutters something inaudible and grumpy into the metal beneath him. She tugs a bit on a fistful of hair. "No, Chat. Listen to me. How does she act with someone you know she doesn't like?"
Chloe. No one actually seems to like his oldest friend and the longer he's in school, the more obnoxious her behavior becomes. Perhaps that's because he now has other friends to compare her with. And, as far as he can tell, Chloe is the only person Marinette doesn't get along with. Well, Sabrina. But that's still Chloe when it comes down to it. Which, in hindsight, is a terrible thing to think. Sabrina is definitely her own person and should be treated as such.
Alas, he's gotten side tracked. It's an easy thing to do with his Lady's hand in his hair.
No. Concentrate.
"There's a," he doesn't want to say it, to make that connection in his head, because it feels like a betrayal even though he knows it's true, because he knows why Chloe is the way she is but that doesn't excuse her behavior, "bully at school. Apparently they've been going to school together for a while and my friend tried to avoid trouble, but I've only seen her stand up for herself. And everyone else the bully targets."
"Standing up for yourself usually takes direct confrontation."
"I guess."
"So she'll face down a long-time bully. Yell at them?"
Chat huffs, remembering those early days of school when she knocked Chloe down a peg or two over the seating arrangements. "Yeah."
"But she can't hold a conversation with you." To Chat's eternal dismay, he makes a noise like a dying whale and contemplates throwing himself off the tower. "Chat, it sounds like she has a crush on you."
For the first time since patrol ended, Chat looks up at Ladybug. His eyes are huge and his face warm. "What?" The idea is very nearly incomprehensible. Marinette? Have a crush on Adrien? He's still trying to work out if they're friends! It certainly doesn't help that Ladybug is laughing at him.
"Sometimes girls get really weird around their crushes," she explains through giggles. "It's a bit like having a fever. You have an idea of what you want to say, but somewhere between your brain and your mouth everything gets garbled. And at a certain point you're too embarrassed to even try and running away seems like it's the best option. Because, if you run then you can't embarrass yourself worse."
He remembers Nino that one time he tried to ask Marinette on a date. His friend couldn't do anything except smile and stutter out a few words. Adrien had to play wingman the entire time, and, come to think of it, Alya was the one doing all the talking for her and Marinette too.
"Boys do that too," he says and rolls over again to look at the void above them.
They sit together on a beam near the top of the Eiffel Tower, a starscape of city lights beneath them. The moon dips below the horizon, the a faint light peaking over the curve of far away buildings. Patrol is over for the night. It's late, just three in the morning and far past time for the superheroes to have left for bed, but they've been lingering later and later on the quiet nights, enjoying time together that isn't spent fighting for their lives.