The Fashion Disaster
Day 3 – Fashion Week
The Father's Day present from the story "The Impossible Gift" makes a guest-starring appearance here. This takes place in the same universe as that story.
"This is amazing!"
Gabriel glanced over at the source of the exclamation to find his son standing with a girl about his age. The girl tugged at a memory, but he didn't have the time nor the inclination to place where he had seen her previously. She must have been the "friend" Adrien asked to attend Fashion Week with. He had thought perhaps Adrien had developed some romantic feelings for someone and had agreed to Adrien's request asking if he could bring his "friend" to Fashion Week. It allowed Gabriel the opportunity to get a good read on her.
She gazed at the stage and the preparations with wonder in her eyes. Adrien stood next to her – not uncomfortably close, so maybe Gabriel had misunderstood his son's intentions – and grinned as he pointed out the different things related to the set.
Well, he tried to, at least.
"Ooh," the girl squealed, "that's the cutest little hat over there, with the adorable bow and," another gasp of astonishment, "oh the colors look absolutely gorgeous together!"
Gabriel tried not to roll his eyes. It appeared as if the girl were showing Adrien around the set instead. Satisfied his son was well out of the way, and knowing he had a dozen different outfits to approve before the show began, he inched back out of sight and sat down next to a thick curtain. There, he reviewed the schedule of events on his tablet and sussed out the order of outfits in relative peace. As he committed the timetable to memory, he couldn't help but overhear their conversation even as he tried to ignore them.
"Thank you so much for inviting me, Adrien."
A soft chuckle. "It was the least I could do after you helped me with Father's bag. Thanks to you, it turned out wonderfully. He loved it."
Ah, so this was the talent behind his bag. He cast a fond look at the gift resting beside him. Adrien was correct – he did love it. It had already proven invaluable this week alone as he was able to adjust hems and correct mistakes on the fly.
"You did most of the work."
"Don't sell yourself short, Marinette. You came up with the design and made sure it was good enough for my father's standards."
There was a muffled noise followed by another one of Adrien's chuckles. "Tired?" he teased. "That was a pretty big yawn."
"No, actually I'm not," the girl answered. "I've been getting a lot more sleep than usual the last week or so."
"Oh? Why is that?"
A short pause. Then, "Maybe because Hawkmoth hasn't been siccing akumas on our school every other day. I don't have to spend hours trying to do all that extra schoolwork."
Gabriel's hand froze over his tablet as his blood ran cold.
"Hmm, actually you're right," Adrien said. "Now that you mention it, he has been quiet this last week. Good thing, too. I've been crazy busy with photoshoots for promotional stuff. It's certainly nice not having to make up schoolwork due to the akumas interrupting classes and go to my photoshoots on top of it."
The girl giggled in reply. "Raccoon eyes aren't the new in-thing?" she teased.
Adrien laughed. "Maybe you could start that fashion trend on your own. Seriously, though, not that I'm complaining about not having the extra work we usually get assigned because of the interrupted classes, but why do you think Hawkmoth's been so quiet?"
Gabriel resisted the urge to leap up and interrupt them right now. This line of thought could not be good. He needed to distract them. Adrien and that girl – Marinette? - who seemed to be quite adept at connecting the figurative dots.
"Maybe he's busy?"
"You think he's at Fashion Week?" Adrien scoffed. Gabriel's heartrate skyrocketed.
"That's a possibility," the girl mused, deep in thought.
Not happening, Gabriel thought.
"What, you think Hawkmoth might be one of the models?" Adrien asked.
"What about one of the assistants?"
"Now you're going to start accusing the photographers and seamstresses!" Adrien joked.
A small hum, then that tiny innocent girl uttered the second damning sentence of the day. "Hmm, or he could be one of the designers. I mean, have you seen Hawkmoth's ideas for some of these akumas?"
That was the final straw. Gabriel shot to his feet and stormed away, determined to akumatize someone – anyone – right now. He just needed a quick place to transform.
He yanked open a door.
"Oh, Mr. Agreste," someone inside exclaimed. No good, this was full of male models in various stages of preparation. "We're nearly finished with the first wave of-"
Gabriel closed the door before the assistant could finish and hurried away.
Maybe he could duck behind some of the boxes? A couple of the racks filled with clothes were tucked away in the back area of the stage. He headed over there.
Perfect. Dark, quiet, out of the - wait a minute. He glared at the security guard watching him from a post on the other side of the clothes. Of course. He always hired extra security to protect his merchandise. It wasn't unheard of for other companies to attempt to sabotage some of their rivals. He pretended to examine the clothes and compare them to a list on his tablet before darting away after a few moments of aimless loitering.
Where to go? Where could he possibly transform safely and quickly with enough time to divert suspicion?
There!
He rushed over as fast as his long legs would allow and ripped open a small door nestled behind a bunch of ropes. Inside, different kinds of equipment greeted him. A sound stage! Perfect! He shut the door behind him. In here, no one would be able to see the brilliant flash of purple nor hear his maniacal cackles and exquisite pun-filled monologues. Though, he might keep those to a minimum just to be safe.
"Nooroo," he intoned, "dark wi-"
The door opened.
His kwami flew back into his jacket.
"Sir," a familiar voice called out. "May I ask what you are doing? There is a minor emergency out front that requires your attention."
"There is a major emergency in here that requires my attention!" Gabriel hissed back at his assistant. She quirked an eyebrow. Gabriel flushed. "Not... stop that!" he commanded.
"What is this emergency that has you hiding away in a closet?" Nathalie asked him.
Gabriel glanced around, afraid to be overheard. He leaned close to Nathalie. "They know," he said, a touch fearfully.
"Who knows?"
"The children."
"What chi- do you mean Adrien?"
"And his friend."
He could feel the exasperation rolling off her in waves, even outside of his Hawkmoth transformation. "What do they know?" she asked, and despite her obvious frustration she managed to keep her voice her usual monotone. He was impressed.
"That I'm..." another furtive glance around, "Hawkmoth."
Nathalie stared at him for a long moment. "How do you know?"
"I overheard them talking. They said that I hadn't released an akuma in nearly two weeks! So I must be at Fashion Week. I must akumatize someone right away to prove them wrong." Gabriel shooed her away with his hand, then paused and tilted his head at her in consideration. "By the way, Nathalie, how do you feel today?"
"Annoyed." She didn't budge. "So they don't actually know," she confirmed. "They just suspect that Hawkmoth may be in attendance at Fashion Week?"
"They said he could be a designer!"
"Are we talking about the same children?" Nathalie asked. "That little admirer of Adrien's who keeps tripping over everything in sight and your son who is completely oblivious to the fact that his bashful guest is head-over-heels in love with him?"
"Ye- wait, what? She is?"
"It's quite obvious, sir. I could tell the moment she returned your book."
"Hang on, that's the girl who purloined my book?"
"Technically Adrien stole it. She borrowed it from Adrien and returned it to you."
"Huh," Gabriel said as he leaned back against the wall. "I thought she looked familiar."
"You didn't recognize her?"
Gabriel waved a hand dismissively. "Wasn't worth my time to keep track of minor things like that."
"Well, now that you're in a closet panicking over your supposed leaked identity, don't you think perhaps a little more background knowledge on your accusers would come in handy?"
"Are you mocking me, Nathalie?"
"No, sir, merely providing you with the information you would require to make a well-informed decision. Here's a bit more information for you to stew on. There are thousands of people working Fashion Week. One less so than I would like," she added with a neutral glare at him. He frowned. "Why would you think that anyone would connect him to you directly?" He nodded. She had a point.
"Also, do you really want to run the risk that Ladybug's Miraculous Cure will completely restore any of your designs? What if it doesn't?"
"Because I'll have the Miraculouses, naturally," Gabriel added.
Nathalie ignored him. "In the... extremely rare occurrence that you do not succeed in getting the Miraculouses, what if your clothes were ruined and your competitors' designs restored?"
Gabriel paused. "That's a very good point," he mused.
"Of course."
He grinned. "But a more perfect cover! What person in their right mind would risk their own company's success by releasing a rampaging akuma?"
"I couldn't agree more, sir."
"I... you are mocking me, I'm certain of it."
"Merely presenting theories, sir. It is my hope that one of these reasons would lead to you coming out of this closet and actually preparing to embark on Fashion Week."
"But the two teens," Gabriel began, his voice a near-whine as he pointed out the door.
"-Are currently assisting with that minor emergency I previously referenced. There's been a slight mishap up front and a few of the clothes got ripped. The seamsters are out of their minds with frantic panic – and do not look so gleeful at that," she added in a sharp tone when Gabriel visibly perked up at that bit of news. "I asked Adrien's lady friend to assist, seeing how her skills managed to impress even you. She is sewing them up as best as she can – and that's quite fast I assure you – but another expert hand would certainly ensure a smooth start to your week. The other seamsters are a bit thinly spread right now between all of your designs and preparing the first round of models to walk."
If there was one thing that could spur Gabriel Agreste into action faster than the possibility of snatching his coveted jewelry from teenage superheroes, it was the thought that his fashion line may flounder. Sadly, he had to admit that Nathalie was right in her earlier assumption. He would never allow his brand to suffer.
"Show me where they are," he ordered.
"This way," Nathalie said. "And you might want to dust yourself off before people start asking why you were hiding in an abandoned closet. I'm sure 'oh, just supervillain things' wouldn't go over too well with them."
With another blush that Nathalie didn't see as she had turned back around and led the way, Gabriel swiped dust off of his jacket and smoothed his ruffled hair. When he finally stepped back into the main presentation area, the immaculate image of the intimidating head of his company, he spotted several people rushing around. A half-dozen seamsters and seamstresses knelt, sat, and otherwise bent over a bunch of models in various stages of undress. He would have to ask Nathalie exactly what happened. Later, of course. Right now, he had a job to do. An actual job. Not his side hobby of attempting to snatch some jewelry. He frowned. Where was Adri- ah, there he was. His son hovered near that girl, who currently held the hem of a casual menswear jacket in her hands. Several pins stuck out of her mouth as she swiftly threaded a needle around.
"There," she mumbled around her pins, "you're all set. Next, please."
"You're amazing, Marinette," Adrien praised, handing her a pincushion to stick the needles into. She flushed deep red and stammered something back at him.
Oh. Yep, she was harboring a small fondness for his son, all right. He cleared his throat to catch their attentions. Both teenagers jumped and turned around.
"Mr. Agreste!" the girl gasped (and he was thankful that she had already deposited her pins into the cushion before her jaw dropped open in astonishment).
"You must be Adrien's girlfriend," he said, taking a seat beside her and reaching into his bag for his own pins and thread. He motioned over another one of the models who were lined up awaiting their turn. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Y-you too, Mr. Agreste."
Her blushing seemed contagious as Adrien's cheeks grew red. "Father!" he exclaimed. "She's a close friend, but we're not dating!"
"Oh? Forgive my presumption, then," Gabriel said. He offered her a thin smile. "It's a pleasure to meet a fellow designer. I'm told you were instrumental in bringing this gift to life." He motioned to Adrien's gift.
She nodded. "I-I helped a little. Adrien did a lot of the work."
Talented and obviously cares enough about his son to let him take the majority of the credit for their work. "Well then, he's lucky to have a friend like you."
As she flushed again and Adrien sputtered out more denials, he turned his attentions to his task at hand. Fixing the problems with his line so that his designs were successful.
Then, tonight he would release an akuma to keep them guessing a while longer.
Author's Note: A bit more on the crack side of things, but I had fun with this anyway :)
Thank you to PerditaAlottachocolate for beta-reading this and cleaning it up. I wasn't happy with the initial product but she managed to smooth all of the plot holes, inconsistencies, and general garbage that littered this piece. I'm pretty content with the final product!
Check out her works, they're amazing!
Thank you to everyone who is supporting these stories during Gabriel Appreciation Week. He doesn't get much love in the series, but you all should know by now that I'll always make him likable, even if it means he's OOC.