AN: Enjoy these two dorks being dorks :)
Each of her steps fell neatly into place. Surefooted and confident, not a toe out of time. Below her, an accordionist was playing to entertain customers at the restaurant whose roof she was using as a dance floor. Though it was dark, the pattern of footsteps was clear in her mind as she moved to the music. She twisted and turned, dancing alone with her arms held out to a phantom figure for a partner. Her spins and footwork sped up as the music crescendoed. She was a red and black blur, moving faster and faster- it seemed as if she'd practised the same routine a million times over.
Until suddenly, the song ended.
As the notes from the accordion gave way to a muted applause, Marinette was jolted out of her trance. Blinking a couple of times in shock, realisation slowly sunk in. She'd just improvised an entire dance routine, without any effort on her part whatsoever.
Well. That's just typical isn't it.
Her shock quickly gave way to irritation. She huffed and stamped her foot, not caring if she was being childish.
The grace and poise Marinette possessed whilst being Ladybug really was miraculous.
A few weeks ago, as a present for her eighteenth birthday, Nino had taken Alya to some 'Ballroom for beginners' classes. And that was where all the trouble had begun, because she had gotten hooked.
Ever since, Alya had been raving about the experience to anyone and everyone who would listen. This included all three Dupain-Chengs. Apparently, ballroom dancing was 'a dying art', which 'more people needed to embrace' and it was 'just so romantic'.
Earlier that week (and after much begging), Alya had finally convinced Marinette to join a dance class with her. And somehow, like the persuasive force of nature she was, the Lady-blogger had even convinced the two elder Dupain-chengs to get on board; Tom and Sabine had signed up for a couple's latin dance classes down at the town hall.
While she adored her friend, in hindsight Marinette wished she had tried harder to say no. The first class had gone about as badly as is possible.
Initially, the pair of instructors had taught the class some simple steps and demonstrated how to count the correct beats. One demonstrated the correct positions for leaders and the other mirrored the moves for the followers. All very basic stuff. This had only served to lure Marinette into a false sense of security. To her dismay, the class had progressed extremely quickly. All too soon they'd begun dancing in pairs and she was utterly lost.
Maybe it was that they switched partners every five minutes or perhaps the music was too quick. It was difficult to pinpoint the downfall in her dancing capabilities. First, her left foot would be out of place, then her form would be wrong, but by that point she'd gone and gotten herself out of time. She tried not to think of the number of occasions when she'd stumbled into other dancing couples- the actual number must have been well into double-figures.
She had tried so very hard to keep her two left feet to herself- Really, she had!- but despite her best efforts, everyone she'd danced with had been left with wincing expressions and bruised toes. By the end of the class, even Alya had been steering clear of her.
'You'll enjoy it!' she had said. 'It'll be fun!' she had said...
Sighing, Marinette slapped her hands over her masked face, willing away the memories of humiliation. It was not an experience that she had wanted to repeat; however, the classes continued twice a week for the next two months, and her parents had already paid the deposit. It wasn't ideal but she had resolved to keep going- make the most of the opportunity- and at the very least to try and not screw up as badly in the next class. Hence the midnight practising. Or rather, the attempt at practice...
But, so much for that plan...
One of her predecessors must have been quite the dancer, if her suit's muscle memory was anything to go by. Marinette made a mental note to ask Tikki about that later. Either way, it was clear she wasn't going to learn much as her superhero alter ego.
It was so very frustrating that the miraculous couldn't pass the dancing prowess on to her civilian self. Practising as herself was so much more awkward and embarrassing. Her room and balcony were spacious enough but she tripped, stumbled and fell into things endlessly. What's worse, her parents came to check on her every single time. It was nice that they cared, but she could hear the two giggling at her attempts every time they closed the hatch. Even Tikki couldn't always hold back her laughter. Marinette supposed that she couldn't really blame them. She'd long accepted the fact that she, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, was possibly the most clumsy, least graceful being in existence. At least when she wasn't being Ladybug.
Just as she was about to give up on the endeavour, detach her yoyo and swing herself home, the accordionist started up again. The song was slower and sweeter this time. Softer, more romantic.
Something inside her resonated with the music. She could feel it's lilting rhythm under her skin; could feel an instinctual urge to move. And for a moment she was torn: It was getting late and Marinette really ought to go get some sleep, lest she spend tomorrow morning asleep in class...
But she wasn't tired yet and neither was Tikki. One more flawless dance as Ladybug couldn't hurt. After all, there was something thrilling about being so perfectly synchronised with the music.
Closing her eyes, she emptied her mind and let the borrowed knowledge flow through her, guiding her movements. This time, as she danced, the story she was telling had more clarity. She could almost envision her invisible partner. The expanse of his chest and broad shoulders were near tangible, as he spun her across the floor. If she lifted her head a little, she was almost certain that she'd see his deep green eyes and catch a grin that made her weak at the knees.
As the song rose, her fantasy got increasingly more vivid; she could almost smell his cologne, could imagine the feel of his hand on her waist, could almost believe that her hand was clasped in his leather black claws-
Wait a second.
Ladybug cracked an eye open to find a partner who was very much real and not at all who she'd been imagining. She raised a brow at the sight of Chat noir and her feet came to a halt. Feeling a little foolish that she'd been pretending to dance with Adrien, she immediately pushed all thoughts of him to the back of her brain. That was something to address later.
Back to the situation at hand, she decided that nonchalance was the best way forwards; her logic being, that if she pretended it was perfectly normal to be in costume, dancing a paired dance, alone, in the small hours of the night, on a random rooftop, then it was.
"Evening, Chatton." She greeted him cooly.
"Fancy seeing you here, My lady." He said, his grin only widening. "May I have this dance? It is a pawsitively puurrfect night for it." His puns were the absolute worst. Ladybug felt betrayed by the fond smile his words coaxed from her. He was such a dork sometimes; but just as she had been about to reject his offer, she felt a word to the contrary leaving her mouth.
"...Alright." Chat flinched ever so slightly in surprise. That clearly hadn't been the response he'd expected. Well, it hadn't been the response she'd intended either.
"But no funny business." she added hastily, narrowing her eyes up at him.
Immediately, he nodded- probably afraid she was going to change her mind- and offered a small, uncharacteristically shy smile. The two fell into a comfortable silence as he began to lead her in a gentle waltz, spinning and lifting her every so often.
Chat was Ladybug's equal for both herowork and dancing, it would seem. One of his fingers on her waist tapped along to the beat, ever so slightly; but Ladybug concentrated on keeping her mind clear, following his small cues. In terms of difficulty, it wasn't much harder than when she'd been dancing alone. But still, it was different. Dancing with not just a friend but her partner, who she trusted absolutely, without fault. Dancing with him felt… Safe. Familiar. Unexpectedly so.
Briefly, Marinette wondered if Chat's dancing experience also stemmed from his miraculous. She was no expert but it seemed like there was more of a practised, non-feline motion to his steps. That and his unmistakable confidence as he led and she followed, suggested otherwise.
"I didn't know you could dance, Chat." She said, offhandedly. "You're pretty good."
"Oh… It's really nothing special. I learnt when I was a kid." He paused for a moment, before slipping a wink at her. "But it comes in handy every so often."
"Make a habit of dancing with unsuspecting girls, do you?" She teased.
"Nah. Just you, Bugaboo."
"I knew you were going to say that. You're getting too predictable."
"Pawlease. You've been saying that fur years. Go on, admit it, you love the nickname really, and the puns." She scoffed.
"Keep dreaming, kitty."
Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she realised this was probably not the best of ideas. As Ladybug, she liked to keep certain boundaries between herself and her partner. For several very good and important reasons, she reminded herself. This was almost certainly crossing some line or another. But in that moment, as the pair glided across the skyline of Paris, she couldn't quite bring herself to care.
"So when did you learn to dance?" Chat asked, in an attempt to reignite conversation.
"I don't dance." She muttered quickly, receiving an understandable look of confusion.
"I- err." Chat phrased his words carefully. "-I didn't think you were one for false modesty..."
"No really. This-" She looked down at herself. "-This dancing, it's from the miraculous, not me. One of the past Ladybugs must have been a real dance prodigy." Chat missed the bitter note to her statement, eyes widening in astonishment.
"What?! That's amazing! I didn't think- I mean back before just now- when you were dancing, you looked incredible-"
"Did I now?" Ladybug smirked as Chat froze and immediately started backpedalling, avoiding eye-contact.
"I- I mean- The d-dance. Your dance was incredible!" Her smirk pulled even wider at the deep blush in Chat Noir's ears, that his mask couldn't hide.
"Watching me, were you?"
"Yes. Wait, No- I meant No! I wasn't-"
What's wrong, mon Minou? Bug got your tongue?"
"I- I-" The panic on his face was so genuine, Ladybug couldn't help but laugh.
"I'm kidding Chat, relax." She said between giggles.
"Oh."
Thankfully for Chat's pride, the accordion music came to an end. He broke apart from her a little sheepishly, but his embarrassment didn't stop him from bowing deeply. Ladybug curtseyed in return.
"Well, it's been nice seeing you, My lady, but I should really get going." He still couldn't quite meet her eyes as he unclipped his baton, ready to leave. "I- I've got things to do. My bed won't sleep in itself and-"
Marinette caught his hand before he could leap off the roof.
Chat looked back at her in confusion. It was a mutual feeling. She wasn't sure what had gotten into her this evening or why she'd grabbed his hand. All she'd wanted was to thank him before he skipped off into the night. With alternating patrol schedules, they didn't see each other regularly and that had been her first time properly dancing with anyone. Silencing her own doubts, she pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms tight around his chest.
"Thank you for the dance." She whispered. "It was fun."
And before she could talk herself out of it, she pushed herself onto her toes and pecked his cheek. As Marinette, this may have been a difficult manoeuvre, since Chat's most recent growth spurt had left him several inches above her petite frame. But Ladybug managed. She grinned at his shocked expression. Turning on her heel, she threw her yo-yo and sprang off into the night, leaving a dumbfounded, slowly-reddening Chat Noir in her wake.