If anyone thought Nathalie wouldn't notice that the child she was tasked with keeping the reigns on was thoroughly and utterly throwing off those reigns to traipse around Paris on a regular basis, they were more than idiots. Granted, at first Nathalie thought that Olivia was simply sneaking out to spend time with her friends; the excursions did, after all, begin immediately after she began attending public school. But it was only a matter of time before Nathalie noticed the true purpose.

But then, her job was managing Olivia's time. It was her job to make the child's schedule, not ensure that it was kept to. And anything Olivia did on her own time was her own business.

Nathalie did worry that Olivia was binding correctly, though. After all, when she was saving Paris from akuma in the (quite frankly, inappropriate) guise of Chat Noir, her chest was significantly flatter. And how, exactly, she managed such strenuous activity with her breasts bound like that was totally lost on Nathalie.

The possibility of Paris' favorite (or, Nathalie's favorite, at least, not that she'd admit it) superhero using a masculine name and always using masculine pronouns being indicative of something when she was known in civilian life as Olivia Agreste, wealthy daughter of designer Gabriel Agreste, however, was not. But that wasn't Nathalie's business. Her business was drafting schedules and arranging meetings, mostly. That and whatever else Gabriel Agreste asked her for, within reason.

Still Nathalie knew her own ulterior motives. The fact of the matter was that she had no idea how she would approach Olivia about it, or even if she should.

Normally, she would leave well enough alone. If Olivia was having gender issues, then Nathalie was in no position to confront her about it. She wasn't family, and even if she were it would be Olivia's decision to face that when she was ready. It was the Chat Noir aspect of it all that Nathalie was hung up on. It's probably for the best that she does not know that I know, Nathalie thought. I could not risk her taking advantage of my covering for her.

And with that, Nathalie put away all thoughts of confrontation. She packed them up and stacked them high. That was what she was good at. Management, compartmentalization, organization.

"Nathalie, please add this to Olivia's schedule." She accepted the note from her boss and glanced at it. A photoshoot next Friday.

"Of co-" Nathalie stopped mid-sentence as she remembered the schedule. "Actually, sir, Olivia has an outing arranged with her friends at that time."

"Tell her to reschedule."

Nathalie frowned. How crass. "Sir, she informed me of this over a month ago, you can't just schedule over something tha-"

"This photoshoot is far more important than playing with friends. She will reschedule."

Nathalie had to close her eyes and take a deep breath. She lived her life in a hurry. She couldn't even remember the last time she wasn't busy. And Gabriel Agreste kept her that way. Not that she blamed him. It was her job. What she blamed him for were moments when he would completely and totally disrespect his daughter or Nathalie's entire job.

Sometimes he managed to do both at the same time. Like when he ignored Olivia's birthday and insisted that Nathalie was supposed to have gotten her a present (which Nathalie wouldn't have even minded if he had actually asked her. It was that he hadn't and refused to take responsibility for the error that drove Nathalie up the wall.), or moments like then, when he would force Olivia to reschedule planned events with no more than a week's warning.

Why do we even have schedules if you refuse to acknowledge them? Honestly. It's unfair to Olivia, not to mention my job is nothing more than glorified babysitter at that point. With a disappointed glance, Nathalie turned away to leave the room. Though who, exactly, I'm babysitting is up for contention. When a schedule is in place, to disregard what has already been arranged is disrespectful and downright boorish. And to react in such a way when your changes are argued against is just immature. It's easier to deal with Olivia, an actual teenager, with these matters, and with hero duty she has the most unpredictable schedule imaginable! And still she does a better job than him!

Goodness, there really is no respect in this house. To do such a thing to Olivia and not even tell her yourself.

The worst part is that this is hardly unexpected anymore. She sighed. I best tell Olivia. Perhaps her friends can arrange something.

Nathalie read over the note again as she walked down the hall. She's going to be disappointed. Nathalie didn't know what the event was, exactly, beyond a meeting with friends, but for it to be planned so far in advance meant it wasn't just a casual get-together. She had those quite often during her free time. It's likely a party or an event. Something she can't just reschedule. Otherwise she wouldn't have told me so far ahead. She shook her head and knocked on the door to Olivia's room, waiting patiently for her to answer.

"Yeah, Nathalie?" Olivia rubbed her eyes. She had a pencil behind her ear and seemed tired. Was she studying? Probably. At least she's responsible.

"Olivia, I was asked to inform you of a change in your schedule."

"Oh? What is it?"

"Your father arranged for you to be a part of a photoshoot next Friday. The details will be in annotations in the schedule, as usual."

Olivia's eyes went wide. "What? But that's Alya's party! I thought I put that in the schedule!"

"You did. Your father believes that this shoot is more important."

When Olivia just sighed, bit her lip, furrowed her brow, and thanked Nathalie before closing the door, Nathalie clenched her jaw. Ridiculous. She spun on her heel and stalked back to her desk. Utterly ridiculous.

Nathalie stopped caring if Olivia knew that she knew she was Chat Noir. Nathalie stopped caring, really, about the potential implications of Olivia's male counterpart. She couldn't just sit back as Olivia came home battered and bruised while her father didn't even notice.

That was why, after an encounter with a nasty akuma that scored a painful hit on Chat Noir's shoulder, Nathalie ventured up to Olivia's room with a bag of ice in her hand. She knocked, and waited for the door to open.

Olivia raised her eyebrows when she saw the bag of ice. Nathalie just handed it to her without fanfare. "Please take care of that shoulder," she said, already beginning to turn away.

Nathalie made it several steps away before Olivia called after her. "W-wait! How did you know my shoulder was hurt?"

"Your battle was on the news, Olivia. Most of them are."

Olivia was quiet for a few more moments, so Nathalie started towards her desk again. "Wait! Uh… come in, please?"

Nathalie conceded. Of course she had planned some time free so that Olivia had time to process, so she didn't have anything that required her immediate attention. She entered Olivia's room and sat erect on the sofa.

Olivia wrung her hands and cleared her throat. "Y-you know, then?"

"That you are Chat Noir? Yes, I know quite well."

"When did you find out?"

"Not long after it started." Olivia's jaw dropped. "Which would be… just about the time you began going to public school, correct?"

"Y-you seriously knew?! All this time?!"

"It would be irresponsible of me not to notice." Gabriel. "It didn't take long to realize that you were only absent from engagements during the time of akuma attacks." Nathalie folded her hands in her lap, allowing Olivia all the time she needed to process it. "From there, it was simply a matter of deduction."

"B-but… but…" The teenager wrapped her arms around herself, ducking her head and looking away. "Chat Noir is a boy."

Nathalie raised an eyebrow, but otherwise kept her countenance unexpressive. It was no revelation to her that Olivia possibly had some struggles there. I need to be careful with my words, though. I don't want to upset her. "Okay."

Olivia looked puzzled, perhaps even troubled, as she gaped. "Okay? J-just 'okay'? How could you 'deduce' my being Chat when he's a boy and I'm… you know."

"Do I? I don't recall you ever telling me your gender. I don't presume to know those things." Nathalie felt a twinge of sympathy for Olivia, then, with how she struggled. "You seem upset. Is there any way I can help? Perhaps you need some time? I'm sure we can arrange another time to talk, if you would prefer."

Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Yeah, I'm sorry, it's just… a lot to process."

"I understand."

She shook her head. "I need to think. Can we talk… ugh, what's my schedule? Uh, can you spare time on Thursday?"

"I'll make time. Immediately following dinner, would that suffice?"

"That'd be wonderful."

"In that case, I'll leave you alone."

Nathalie paused on her way to the door when Olivia grabbed her wrist. "And, please, you can't tell anyone. About, uh, either of the things."

Nathalie smiled. "I haven't told anyone so far. I have no plans to change that." Olivia let go of her, so Nathalie continued to the door, turning to look back as she closed it behind her. "Remember to ice your shoulder. Rest well."

That went rather well. As expected. She is actually capable of maturity, after all. With the gender issue brought up, though, I should remember to ask her on Thursday how she would prefer I refer to her. Swiftly, Nathalie returned to her desk, picking up her tablet. Thursday. I'll block off an hour… an hour and a half, to be safe. She is worth that. I'll have to get to work now to ensure I can make the meeting.

And work is exactly what Nathalie did. She focused entirely on it. All thoughts of her employer's child suspended, waiting for the proper time to return to them.

That was, after all, what Nathalie was best at.

Nathalie wasn't entirely sure what would happen when she met Olivia in her room that Thursday. She trusted that Olivia would be as mature as she was able, and she knew that she would do the same herself, but she also knew that the topics they would broach were ones that were uncomfortable for Olivia. And it's not as if we talk very much in the first place.

Nathalie frowned sternly as she approached Olivia's door. Undoubtedly she will try to convince me to keep her being Chat Noir a secret. That is simple enough. I'm not sure what to expect in regards to the gender issue. She let out a sigh before knocking on the door. I'll just have to deal with whatever happens.

"Nathalie! Good, come in." Olivia flung the door open, running a hand through her hair and talking faster than she normally would. "You're right on time. Of course you are, I mean, I'm glad you're here- I mean… Uh, make yourself comfortable."

Nathalie smiled, stepping past Olivia to take a seat on the sofa as she had earlier in the week.

"Right, okay, so…" Olivia closed the door, moving to sit further down the sofa. She sat stiffly, her back as straight as Nathalie's, and she worried her lip as she stared at her folded hands. "I guess… you already know the secrets, so full disclosure.

"I'm Chat Noir, as you know, but I can only be Chat Noir because of Plagg. He's the reason my room always reeks of camembert."

Nathalie raised her eyebrows as a small, black creature emerged from hiding somewhere further in the room. It floated over, flicking one of its feline ears as if there was a fly buzzing about. Olivia continued speaking. "He transforms me by going into my ring. And he eats cheese. A lot of cheese."

Nathalie wrinkled her nose. "Only cheese?"

"What else would I eat, huh lady?" The little floating cat, Plagg, said.

It took Nathalie by surprise that it could talk, but the fact that it existed was rather more surprising. Still, she took it in stride. Tuck it away, and consider it later when there's time to look at the ramifications without inconveniencing anyone. "Have you tried the ham? I heard attendees at the last gathering saying that it tastes of despair."

Plagg seemed to consider her words, though she was half-convinced that he did so mockingly. "Nah, cheese is good enough for me. I have enough despair watching over this one." He gestured to Olivia offhandedly.

"Hey!" Olivia protested, reaching out to grab Plagg before he zoomed away, cackling. With a sigh, she turned back to Nathalie. "Ignore him. I just thought that since you know I'm Chat, you should know why I'm always carrying stinky cheeses with me."

"That was somewhat of an oddity."

"You can say that again." She shook her head. "Anyway, obviously, please don't tell anyone."

"You don't have to worry about me telling anyone." Olivia looked at her doubtfully, so Nathalie expanded her statement. "Not even your father."

"Thank you. And…" Olivia trailed off, shifting uncomfortably. "There is the other thing, too." Nathalie just raised her brow and waited patiently. "I'm, uh, well, you've probably guessed, but I… I think I'm trans." Olivia shook her head vehemently, closing her eyes. "No, I know it. I am trans."

"You would prefer I use male pronouns for you?"

"Yes, please, I mean, sort of. When no one else is around, but I mean that's kind of hard, right? I can't expect that- no, don't worry about it. It's…" Olivia grimaced. "It's fine. Totally fine."

It's obviously anything but fine. I will have to note to be careful how I think and speak about he- him. Nathalie examined Olivia's face. Him. Him, him, him, him, him. Yes, I don't believe this will be particularly difficult. "I wouldn't dream of disrespecting my employer's son," she said, bordering on teasingly. When Olivia snapped her head up to stare wide-eyed at her, Nathalie felt a small smile grace her lips. "And I can assure you of the utmost discretion."

"And, um." He had trouble finding words. He was still staring at her dumbly, his jaw working but none of the right sounds coming out. "I- uh, this might be weird. I don't know. Um, but… I would prefer being called Adrien." His voice raised at the end of his statement, as if it were a question.

There's no question about it. And so Nathalie made sure her statement was as matter-of-fact as anything she said. There could be no questioning it. "Then I'll call you Adrien."

"I-it's fine! If you don't, I mean. I'd rather you not if it's hard to switch because I really am not ready for everyone to know about this and oh god I can't even imagine what my father would say, just please don't say anything. Really, it's okay to call me a girl and Olivia, I'd rather that than accidentally letting anyone find out by accident."

Nathalie watched and listened quietly while Adrien droned on. He is really concerned about this. She took a moment to consider her own capabilities. I may have to take special care to watch my words, but any effort is worth him. At least to my knowledge, he has no one else that will validate him. Knowing what I do now, I cannot in good conscience continue to misgender him in private. She waited until Adrien stopped talking – ranting as he was in his nervous state – and spoke up in a brief pause. "Adrien, it is no trouble at all," she said.

And she was being honest. It was all about compartmentalization. "Adrien" and "him" for thoughts and private conversations with him. "Olivia" and "her" for speech while others were around. For someone like Nathalie, who knew the etiquette of the elite and regularly attended their gatherings, but who herself was not among them, and went to the grocery store or an eatery among common people on an even more regular basis, she knew how to separate words and behaviors for certain occasions. It might take some practice, but she would not slip up. She hadn't before, and she definitely wasn't going to then, when Adrien was depending on her.

Adrien looked up at her uncertainly, worrying his lip again and furrowing his brow. "Promise?"

"Promise."

And then she felt his arms wrap around her. She tensed, half from the unexpected gesture and half from the force of it, to prevent herself from being tipped over. Adrien buried his face into her shoulder and squeezed her tightly.

Nathalie froze, and her brain went into overdrive. Everything from "This is inappropriate behavior, I'm your father's employee." To "How could such a simple gesture be of such great importance to him?" to "Gabriel Agreste is his father is how" passed through her mind in an instant, and Adrien let her go, backing up to the other side of the sofa and rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. I've talked to him about that tick. Any half-decent businessman will pick up on such an obvious tell immediately.

For one of the first times, Nathalie furrowed her brow at the thought. Except, what does he really want to do, anyway? I believe watching that tell would be beneficial anyway, obviously, but I have a hard time seeing Adrien happy in such a… harsh environment. He would be successful no doubt, but he's not made for business. At least not this kind of business.

"Nathalie? What's wrong?"

She closed her eyes momentarily and smiled. "Nothing, I was just thinking. You still rub your neck when you're nervous."

"I do. I do? Oh." Adrien looked briefly at his own hand. "I thought I was getting better with that." Nathalie smiled. I think "stay at home dad" fits his personality a bit better. He'd be a good one. Remarkable, considering where he comes from. "Anyway, seriously, Nathalie. Thank you. I know it's just a word, but… it really does mean a lot to me."

"It's only basic respect."

The shock that flickered across Adrien's expression made Nathalie wonder idly if she was a little less veiled in her calling out of his father than she usually was. Or perhaps he's just finally picking up on it. Probably not. He's intelligent, but too kindhearted. Even if he picked up on it, he wouldn't suspect that it's on purpose.

"So… I'm not sure if there's really anything else important. If you have any questions, I can try to answer, but otherwise… I'll let you get back to work?"

Nathalie smiled. And he probably has homework as well. A glance at his desk told her that he did have homework, and that he was at the very least already started on it. Good boy. "This Plagg."

"Yeah?"

"He eats only cheese?"

Adrien nodded. "And he gets grumpy if it's not fancy kinds, too."

Nathalie had long suspected that Adrien's curious fondness for cheese had something to do with his secret identity, but it hadn't made sense how until then. Actually, no. It still doesn't make much sense. What being could eat one food exclusively for so long? It's absurd. "That's ridiculously unhealthy."

Adrien shrugged, holding back a grin. "I don't think he follows the same rules as us. Ladybug mentioned once that her Kwami – that's what Plagg is called – eats cookies. I'm fairly certain that her Kwami isn't dying, either."

Nathalie smiled and stood. "In that case, I'll get back to work now."

"Okay. Thank you again, Nathalie. For… everything. I'm glad that we had this talk."

Nathalie made it to the door before she smiled at Adrien over her shoulder. "Make sure you finish your homework. And don't stay up too late. You have school and your photoshoot tomorrow."

Adrien grinned and rolled his eyes. Nathalie slipped out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.

The fortunate side effect of being Nathalie, she discovered, was that she was very good at making people do in ten minutes what would have otherwise taken an hour. So, when Adrien's photoshoot started, and Nathalie realized that his friend's party was displaced by two hours, she figured that if she really put the pressure on everyone, then Adrien could get free and to his friend's party with a few hours left to enjoy himself. He'd be late, surely, but Nathalie had met his friends. They would be happy. And more importantly, it would make Adrien happy.

And perhaps even more importantly, she thought, satisfied, as she watched Adrien climb out of the car at his friend's house. I win, Mister Agreste. She smiled to herself, writing an email on her tablet on Gabriel Agreste's behalf.

When she arrived back at the mansion, Gabriel Agreste was waiting for her. "Nathalie. Where is my daughter?"

Nathalie only resisted cringing thanks to her extensive practice on not cluing her employer into how she feels. That's only going to get worse, isn't it? "She is attending her friend's party."

"She should be at a photoshoot."

"The shoot ended early." Nathalie carefully watched the smile that threatened to take over her lips when she saw Gabriel's expression harden.

"Then she should have come home with you."

To make a point, Nathalie innocently pulled up Adrien's schedule on her tablet, examining it even though she knew perfectly well exactly what it contained. "She has no event at home, and she had already arranged this meeting with her friends." Gabriel seemed to loom over her, but Nathalie would never be frightened by him. She hadn't been for a long time. "Would you have preferred that she cancel last minute? That doesn't reflect well on the company, sir."

Gabriel said nothing. He just stared Nathalie down. "I'm sure I could remedy this error, sir. I could call Olivia and ask her to come home now. But I think it's important that she learn to honor her commitments." There's the reaction. Still keeping her expression carefully neutral, Nathalie watched as Gabriel Agreste subtly curled his fists. "But then, I'm not her guardian. If you think otherwise, sir…"

Gabriel Agreste walked away. Nathalie smirked at his back, and turned to head back to her desk.

And then she worked quietly, taking joy in her victory but not letting it distract her from her work. Little more thought was put into the entire affair.

A few hours later, and Nathalie was packing up to head to her own home. She did so silently, as always. Gabriel and Adrien both knew when she left, and she always left at exactly the same time. She always did everything right on time.

"Nathalie!" Adrien's voice stopped her in her tracks. Mentally, even as she turned, she was counting the seconds. An unexpected delay. I might get home a minute or two later than usual. With a smile at Adrien, she thought, No big deal. "Hey, uh, you're leaving?"

She checked her watch. "Yes."

"Right. Of course you are. I mean, I just, uh…" For the second time in as many days, Adrien rushed forward and hugged her. This time, Nathalie was prepared enough to offer him a pat on the back in a restrained return of the gesture. "Thank you. I know you let me go to Alya's party, so… thank you."

"You made an agreement. It would have been disrespectful to back out on that."

Adrien backed up and his eyes glistened with unshed tears and his grin spread from ear to ear. And he laughed. "Yeah, it would have." The sparkle in his eyes told Nathalie that he knew very well what her underlying intentions were. And it told her that she succeeded. Rarely was he so explicitly happy in front of her. "I don't want to keep you. I just wanted to thank you."

"You're welcome, Adrien." Nathalie turned on her heel, with one last look at the stark, airy atrium and the boy that was the only semblance of life inside it, and left the mansion.

Her own home was considerably smaller, but considerably more comfortable. Upon her arrival, she quickly went about her routine, checking first if any of her plants needed watering (she knew exactly which ones would, but thought it prudent to check them all just in case). As she moved through the small apartment, she deftly undid her bun, allowing her hair to fall loose over her shoulders, and she hummed as she filled the pitcher she would use to water the thirsty plants.

Home was warm lights and thriving green and a television droning white noise in the background. It was a mediocre meal that she prepared herself and dancing around clutter with practiced ease.

Not that there was much "clutter", per se. It wasn't untidy at all, as Nathalie preferred to keep her apartment impeccable, but it was small, and it was filled to the brim with things, and she'd be lying if she said that at least some of those things weren't there just to take up space.

She couldn't go around one side of the coffee table without brushing her arm on a leaf from the tall potted plant framing one side of the window. She couldn't enter the kitchen without seeing that one souvenir that was tacky and silly and didn't fit the décor at all but made her smile when she looked at it. She couldn't get a cup out of the cupboard without seeing the "world's okayest dad" mug she had bought frivolously, thinking of Gabriel but knowing she'd never actually dare give it to him. She couldn't leave the kitchen without brushing past her "Please don't kiss the cook" apron hung up nearby.

There, she made the rules. And if I want to drink out of the watering pitcher, then I can. Fight me, Agreste. She took a quick swig from the pitcher in her hand and then gave a nearby plant one as well.

It's no wonder that Adrien takes so well to being Chat Noir. I'd go crazy if I had to live in that mansion. Nathalie spent so much time there – nearly all her days – but it wasn't where she returned to. Despite how much time she spent in the mansion, it never became comfortable. That's probably partly because it is my workspace, though. I'm sure it's better for Adrien.

Still, a larger-than-life sized painting of his father and him mourning his mother is not exactly homely décor.

Nathalie sometimes wished that she was in a position to say something about it – especially days like those when Adrien was so explicit in his appreciation of her. She wanted to help him, but she was an employee. It's not my place.

I'm going to fix Plagg's diet, though. God or not, that cheese obsession is absurd.

"Nathalie, can I talk to you?" Nathalie took a single look up at Adrien's face and nodded, calculating how quickly it would take her to finish her work and reprioritizing in her mind even as she stood to follow him to his room. The schedule for next month is nearly complete, but I need to finish sending those email before the end of the day. I should do that immediately after this, to ensure they get done. Whatever time I have leftover can be used to finish the schedule.

Adrien closed the door behind her as she sat down. It wasn't the first time Adrien had wanted to talk to since he admitted that he was Chat Noir, several months prior, and so long as Nathalie could spare the time, she figured that listening was the least she could do for him.

"Ladybug found out," he said, rubbing his neck.

"About what?"

"The trans thing. She still doesn't know it's me."

"I see."

"And I know I should trust her, right? Like, she's my partner, she wouldn't… wouldn't… I don't know." Adrien hadn't sat. Instead, he paced in front of her, tugging at his hair and chewing his lip. "I don't even know what I'm scared of! Like, she could hate me, or she could start calling me a girl – oh my god, what if she outs me?! I mean, she doesn't know who I am, so I guess it's not terrible but what if she outs Chat and everyone starts hating him? What if she doesn't want to work with me anymore? Or if the people don't want me around anymore?"

"Adrien." He quieted, turning to face her. "What did Ladybug say when she found out?"

"Nothing! She was still in shock and I kind of just ran! How am I supposed to face her?"

"Remember when I found out?"

Adrien flinched. "Right. I kept trying to make it into a federal freaking issue and you were having none of that."

"She is your partner. She will support you."

"You say that so confidently."

"Learn something from it, then."

Adrien sat heavily on the sofa, slouching. Nathalie tutted, but didn't correct him. "You're right. Of course you're right."

"Avoiding this will only cause you stress."

"I know. I'll talk to her tonight. Just let me… figure out what to say."

Nathalie smiled and rose. "I'll get back to work. Let me know what happens."

"Yeah. Thank you."

That night, Nathalie received a text message from Adrien informing her of the massive success of his meeting with his partner. Nathalie smiled, and when she saw him the next morning grinning wider than she had seen since he had come out to her, she was proud.

Equally proud she was when he announced to her, a few weeks later, that he'd be coming out to his friends. First it was Nino Lahiffe, who smiled knowingly and offered a fist bump and a "Love you, dude". Nathalie knew that Adrien was in good hands with him. She had known since he had sent her flying into the atmosphere in a bubble such a long time ago.

Next, he came out to Alya Césaire. She tore through the house like a hurricane, loudly critiquing all the things that Nathalie herself had pointed out silently. The solemn portrait that notably lacks Adrien's mother's presence, the stark white and black décor, the large space so empty and intimidating, even the redundancy of many aspects of Adrien's own room. "How old were you when you last skated, like eight? Why do you have a half-pipe?!" Nathalie half-wished that Gabriel was there to hear her.

Nathalie lingered long enough to hear Adrien's confession, and to hear Alya tease him good-naturedly and express her support, before she returned to work. She still heard occasional bumps as the two played, but with Gabriel Agreste out of the house, she decided to let Adrien have his fun. She did remind Adrien, after checking on them, that he had better clean his room before his father returned. It wouldn't do to leave it in the state that the two teenagers had caused.

A few weeks later, a girl in black and a girl in pink visited. Nathalie recognized them as being from Adrien's class, but she wasn't as familiar with them as she was with Nino and Alya. Adrien welcomed them with a smile, and when he told them, there was no rough-housing or teases. With them, there were hugs and soft words and hidden smiles and understanding.

And Nathalie could not have been more proud.

After them, a nervous girl with pigtails stopped by, on Alya's arm. Nathalie knew of her as Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She was more often in Adrien's friend group, and she had won fashion contests at the school, so Nathalie couldn't have missed her. Nathalie didn't linger to see how she reacted when Adrien told her. She didn't need to.

Nathalie knew that Adrien had good friends.

She returned to work, smiling to herself, and let Adrien be Adrien while he still could. While his father was still out of the house.

When Adrien told Chloé Bourgeois, she sniffed and said, "So? You're still a treasure." And that was about as good as it was going to get, but both Adrien and Nathalie knew the meaning behind it.

When he told his father, many months later, he didn't do it alone. He came to Nathalie and told her that he was ready, and Nathalie dropped her work and stood with him as he faced down her employer.

He fought valiantly, but his father was an immovable object. Nothing less than Cataclysm could shake the firm barrier that Gabriel Agreste had put up. A daughter was more valuable to him than a son, and that was all there was to it. With the fashion industry being what it was, Gabriel needed his obedient daughter to model his best work. There was so much more interest in women's fashion, after all.

Unable to watch idly, Nathalie told Gabriel Agreste exactly where he could put his women's fashion.

"Return to your room. I will hear no more of this," Gabriel had said.

"But I-"

"Do not argue with me, Olivia."

Nathalie held Adrien firmly in place. She watched as his face fell, how tears pricked at his eyes, how he was trying too hard to keep them in while still in front of Gabriel. "Adrien does not need your permission, sir," she said, knowing how rash it was. She didn't care. She could be fired, but so long as she was there, she wouldn't let Adrien's own father treat him like less than a person. "He told you because he wanted you to know. Your opinion does not change anything."

"My daughter-"

"Your son turns to his friends and to an employee of your company before he turns to his own father. Your son knows that you are a crass, incorrigible brute who thinks of nothing but your own gain. Your son understands how to treat people with basic human respect, rather than machines set up to benefit him. Your son is brave, sir." Nathalie let go of Adrien to stalk up to Gabriel's desk, placing her hands gently on the polished surface and leaning over threateningly. "And I will not watch as you hurt him."

"Nathalie," Gabriel growled, "know your place."

"I do. I would advise you to know yours. You seem to have forgotten what being a father means."

"Nathalie," Adrien said, pleading, "don't. It's not worth it."

"I will not be spoken to this way by an assistant."

Gabriel spat the word, and Nathalie spat back. "And I, sir, will not be spoken down to by an overgrown child. I am an assistant, but at least I'm not negligent. And I am a person, same as you."

Silence reigned for a second, and then two, and then Gabriel stood, regaining the height advantage on her. "Get out. You are fired. You are not welcome in my home again."

Nathalie turned on her heel, eyeing Adrien as she passed. Over her shoulder, she met Gabriel's gaze. "You are the only one who would call this place a home."

"You were an employee. This was not meant be a home for you."

"I wasn't talking about me."

She turned and slammed the door behind her.

When Nathalie awoke, it was dark outside. She got only a brief glimpse of the rubble – all that remained of the Agreste mansion before Ladybug's power restored it to it's full, harsh, frozen glory. She felt strangely satisfied with even that little glimpse of destruction.

Chat Noir stared at her with wide eyes, jaw slack, and Ladybug looked at him strangely.

Ladybug took off first, but Chat Noir lingered. He didn't have much reason to flee, given he was already in his house with only the one person who knew he was Adrien anyway. Nathalie briefly wondered where Gabriel was, but took his absence as a blessing. She met Chat's eyes. "Did I reveal too much while I was an akuma?"

Chat gaped for a second more, and snapped his jaw shut, shaking his head. "You didn't say anything. But… you did fight Ladybug a lot harder than me."

Nathalie smirked. She reached up and released her bun, sighing as her hair fell over her shoulders again. She picked up her tablet and checked herself over. Ready to leave. For good this time. "You could tell her that I'm a fan."

Chat Noir laughed. "Of me?"

"Of course."

Chat sobered quickly. "Do you think Hawk Moth knows now? Who I am?"

Nathalie paused to consider it. "Based on previous observation, no. I don't believe so." She placed a hand on his head, between the ears his suit gave him. "Be careful, though. We should be able to confirm within a few akuma attacks. Hawk Moth is notoriously rash."

"Well, if you say so. You're always right, after all."

"Goodbye, Adrien."

Chat Noir caught her wrist as she turned toward the door. "Will I still see you?"

"I don't work here anymore, Adrien."

"I know that, but…"

"I'm sure you'll like your father's next assistant."

Chat Noir didn't look convinced. "Maybe, but… they won't be you." Nathalie wanted to look away. She saw the tears in his eyes before the fell, before he cursed and wiped them away. "I'm sorry. It's not fair to you. I- it feels a little like losing mom again."

Nathalie bent over a little to being herself to Chat's level. "Adrien…" She sighed. "You still have my phone number. If you need my help, you can always call, okay?"

Chat nodded, and wiped at his eyes again.

"Don't let your father keep you down. You're better than him." Resolution took hold in Chat's gaze, and he nodded once more.

"I'm sorry I got you fired."

Nathalie smiled at him, unrestrained. "You didn't get me fired. I did what was right. Sometimes that doesn't work out for us, but I'm happy for having done it." He smiled back. "Goodbye, Adrien."

"Bye, Nathalie."