When the corner of the building blocked Marinette from his view, Adrien laid down in the back seat of the BMW and closed his eyes.

He really did appreciate the Gorilla. It was nice to have someone who didn't ask questions, didn't expect perfect answers. He never sensed judgement coming off of the large man. He knew that if his bodyguard really felt the need to follow Adrien everywhere, he could, and he would. Sometimes the boy felt like his bodyguard was his only ally in the household.

The car pulled in through the gates and stopped by the steps to the wide porch.

"Thank you," Adrien said sincerely to his chauffeur. The Gorilla nodded to him, expressionless, and Adrien watched the car pull around to the back of the mansion before he entered through the huge front doors.

He was greeted by a stern-looking Nathalie, but he could sense the anxiety she never expressed. He did not meet her eyes, instead focusing his own on the staircase behind her, chin level with the floor, neither bowing in submission nor raising his nose at her. They were equals.

"Your father requests to know where you were," she pronounced quietly, clearly, enunciating each syllable.

"I was studying," he mumbled to the staircase. "I finished my Italian homework through the rest of the week."

"Where were you studying? You sent me the address of a haberdashery."

"I was in a safe and quiet place," Adrien answered firmly.

Nathalie sighed. "You don't have to answer me," she said, "but your father will want to know."

Adrien swallowed but kept his voice steady. "I am aware."

"Very well. Your father has you scheduled for a shoot at six tomorrow morning. You should get some rest."

Adrien finally met her eyes, nodded, and kept his shoulders high and back as he walked towards the stairs, up to the landing, until he was finally out of her eyesight. He leaned against the wall took a deep, shaky breath. Confrontation was not something that he enjoyed, as Adrien or as Chat.

He wasn't afraid of Nathalie. She was his equal, and he had sympathy for her because of it. She wasn't the only employee bearing his father's inhuman expectations, but she was the only one who had to face them so personally as he did. Part of him wanted to say that at least she could just leave, but he knew that she couldn't. He could see it in the way she took Gabriel's abuse. She feared him, as everyone did, but she had been with the family since before Adrien's mother had disappeared. Maybe she was in love with the man, or maybe she only loved him in the way that one loves a friend after they change.

His father wasn't always like this. When you know that someone was once someone else, and you love them, you stay by them, no matter what they do to you. Because you know that, deep down, the person you love is still there. You see it even in the way that they hurt you, which is why it hurts so much. But you still love them.

Adrien understood it very well. He didn't remember much of his father from before, but he had other experience.

But just because he didn't hate Nathalie, didn't mean he liked her. She was an emissary of his father, an extension of Gabriel's power of his son, used to exercise authority without inconveniencing himself. Adrien hated that his father spoke to him through his assistant, and he didn't appreciate the way his assistant willingly and emotionlessly acted as his ambassador.

He made his way to his cavernous bedroom, dropped his backpack by the couch, and collapsed onto his bed with a frustrated groan.

Plagg flew from his bag to hover over him.

"I know, I know," Adrien moaned, dragging himself back up to get the kwami's cheese. "Camembert. Got it."

After flying around happily with the cheese and shoving it whole down his throat, Plagg came back to hover over Adrien.

"So are you happy?" he asked.

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows. "About what?" he asked.

"You finally know who Ladybug is."

Adrien couldn't help smiling through his frustration. "Yeah," he said, "I really am. She's so beautiful, Plagg. She's so perfect. I can't wait to see her again."

"Good," the kwami says. "As long as this doesn't get in the way of me and my sweet, sweet, Camembert, I am… happy for you."

"I thought you thought I shouldn't go?" Adrien asked, confused.

"Eh, I trust you. Figured someone should bring it up. Who's who, masks or no masks, it's never been a real problem before. You'll be fine."

Adrien took confidence from the rare moment of encouragement. It made the irritating little prickly sensation at the back of his mind calm down for a little bit. Whenever he noticed it, it bothered him, so he usually tried not to notice it. He could always feel when it shut up, though. Like when he saw her. Whenever he was with her, his guilt was blissfully silent. It was just afterwards that it bothered to him. He felt like he was lying to her, even though he hadn't even been given an opportunity in which he could have told her.

He remembered her eyes when she took the umbrella from him, the look of soft surprise, the tiny smile when he walked away. She looked so… touched. Because of him. He had made that happen.

She wouldn't have looked like that if Chat had given her the umbrella. She probably wouldn't have even taken it, wouldn't have let her friend get wet. And that was sweet, in its own way. But it denied that he would genuinely prefer to give her the umbrella. He wanted something that was his to keep her dry.

And now his umbrella would be sitting in her house, helping her.

That was a very, very good feeling.

The rain would also keep him from seeing her tonight. They never patrolled on rainy nights when they could help it. He was caught between relief and disappointment. On the one hand, of course he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. Seeing Marinette, he wanted to see Marinette in Ladybug like he saw Ladybug in Marinette. To finally really know his lady.

On the other hand, what if he gave himself away? What if he said something stupid? Or what if just seeing him so soon after seeing Adrien made it click for her? He didn't want to risk that.

He also knew that seeing Ladybug would awaken that stupid guilty voice in the back of his head, trying to ruin his one chance. He didn't want to think about it, and he didn't want to think about this coming between them instead of pulling them closer. Besides, he had to wake up early tomorrow. He should go to sleep.

He knew that today would be seen as a rebellion, and he would be surprised if there wasn't more punishment than one additional early-morning photo shoot. Adrien wasn't a rebel, but he wasn't the submissive 'son' he knew his father wanted him to be. The fact that a seventeen-year-old boy had to sneak out to study with his friend in a coffee shop was ridiculous, and he resented it.

Rebellious? No.

Passive aggressive? Maybe.

And so he would go to the photo shoot. And he would do whatever else his father expected him to do, and he would do it well. He would give no one any reason to criticize him.

He would also do whatever he could to get closer Marinette.

Friday afternoon, Adrien was grateful for his first reprieve from work and school since he returning home Monday night. He rode the elevator up to Chloe's floor and knocked on her door before letting himself in.

"Adrikins!" she exclaimed, almost tackling him to the ground. "It's been so long!"

"Father's been keeping me busy," he explained.

"He's been keeping you too busy," she pouted. "I'll have Daddy speak to him."

Adrien grimaced and put a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks for the offer, but I don't think that's necessary."

"But I missed you! It's not fair!"

It's not, Adrien thought, thinking of his situation even though he knew that Chloe meant it was unfair that she hadn't been able to see him.

Still, it would be lying to say that she was the only one who enjoyed her time with him. He resented that it still felt like a celebrity playdate, and he couldn't say that she wasn't at least a little bit terrible and annoying, but she was his oldest friend, and half-listening to her prattle on about what great thing her daddy was doing or new styles she wanted Jean-Claude to try out on her was stress-relieving in its own way. He didn't enjoy listening to her complain about her classmates, but he was usually able to tune that much out.

He heard a question in her voice, and he tuned back in.

"I was thinking we could go to the mall," she was saying. "Lucas Vreille just released a new collection—like you didn't know—and it would be so much fun to check it out together!"

On the one hand, the new collection did look excellent, especially this one leather jacket that would be perfect now that the temperature was dropping. He didn't pretend not to know that leather was a killer look on him. It was what made him such a dashing Chat Noir, after all.

On the other hand, he didn't like going out with Chloe. It always felt like show-and-tell, and she was always so critical of everyone else. He couldn't deny that she was everything wrong with celebrities, and while he was happy to be her friend, he wasn't proud to be associated with her. He was about to say no, but…

Marinette would like it, right? Girls liked leather.

He at least needed to try it on.

And so he found himself in the back of the Bourgeois limousine.

He hated limousines. He had learned to deal with the attention fame inevitably brought—he'd had to—but he didn't like it. Chloe, on the other hand, strutted out of the limo and into the three-story mall like a peacock in heat. He wanted to hang behind, but he knew she would only yell at him to catch up, and that would draw even more attention. So he kept his eyes down and his shoulders hunched forward while he walked by her side.

Eyes still followed them.

Adrien was grateful when they finally reached the boutique featuring the new collection. Getting to a place was painful, but being there was usually better. Sure, he would be featured on every customer's snapchat, but at least it was a limited crowd.

He was rifling through the men's selection when he heard his friend yelling for him at a much higher decibel than was necessary.

"Adrihoney!" Chloe called. "What do you think of this coat?"

He made his way back to her. It was a nice pea coat, classic but innovative, mostly black but with a yellow collar. Very Chloe.

"It's very you," he responded. "You should try it on."

"That's what I was thinking," she said. "Especially if Jean-Claude agrees with me about the bangs. It would look so mod, right?"

Adrien chuckled. "Very mod," he agreed. "I feel like mod's going to make a comeback. Maybe not quite yet, but it's definitely on its way."

"Of course it is," Chloe responded. "That's why I want the bangs. It's not a real trend if I'm not heading it."

"Of course. I'm going to get back to my side. There's a certain jacket I'm looking for…"

"You want me to come help?" she offered.

"Nah, you can stay here. I'll catch up once I find it."

She pouted. "Whatever."

Upon returning to his rack, something peculiar and beautiful caught his eye, and it was not made of leather.

"And what brings you here?" he asked the dark-haired girl inspecting a rack near his.

She whirled on him, face instantly turning pink. "Hi!" she exclaimed. He held back a small laugh. He would have never thought that he would have the opportunity to see Ladybug flustered, but there she was. He couldn't get over how adorable it was.

He glanced at the label she had been eyeing. "You a Murad fan?" he asked.

She blinked, slowly registering that he had asked her a question. "Y-y-yes!" she stammered. "B-but… I'm not really shopping. I'm just looking for inspiration. I mean, I could just look online, I guess… I guess this is kind of loitering… but I like to be able to—to feel the fabrics. It helps me to see the actual garment, instead of just the image, you know?"

"Inspiration?" he repeated. "So you design?"

Her eyes widened. "Um…yeah! Yeah, but not, like, like, like big things, I guess…I mean, it's more of a hobby. Not that I'm not any good, but I'm not that good, but there was this one competition—with bowlers—I mean, bowlers, right? I guess that doesn't mean very much, but, um…Yeah," she concluded. "I design some."

"The Agreste bowler hat competition a couple years ago?" he asked, loving the way her eyes lit up.

"Yeah! That one!"

He remembered it. It was low on his list of favorite photo shoots, since he couldn't stop sneezing the whole time, but the hat had been excellently designed. Very original, technically skilled handiwork, and very Parisian. It had been an impressive piece. "That was a good hat," he said.

She bit her lip. "Thank you," she mumbled, looking at her feet.

"Adrien!" There was a notable shift in Chloe's voice from earlier, which had gone from loud to abrasive. He flinched. "What are you doing talking to her?"

Due to Adrien's sheltered upbringing, he had never witnessed a real catfight. And while he knew that Chloe was terrible to anyone of lesser standing than she, especially those who refused her of her need for worship, he had been mercifully spared from watching her tear into someone she actually despised. He didn't particularly want to change that.

He saw the brightness fade from Marinette's eyes as her lips pulled into a grimace.

"Is there a problem, Chloe?" she asked, a forced patience painted over her clear irritation.

"Yes, and it's you."

"Chloe, is this necessary?" he asked, firm but with pleading in his eyes.

"It's okay, Adrien," Chloe said, placing a manicured hand on his shoulder. "I know you don't know. But this pale nobody thinks that it's her place to degrade me. She thinks she's a hero, but really everyone hates her."

He grit his teeth, trying not to give in to the flare of defensive anger that rose in his chest. Chloe or not, that was no way to talk about another person, especially Marinette, who actually was a hero and whom he trusted was nothing true to the description she had just been given.

"You shouldn't say those things about people, Chloe," he warned her, voice slow.

"Well, it's true. I mean, what is she even doing here? We all know she can't actually afford anything."

Adrien purposefully restrained himself from looking at Marinette. He hated to be associated with this.

He should have stayed home.

"Chloe." He looked at her meaningfully. "You're embarrassing me."

The wash of shock that overtook her face was striking, quickly replaced by her impressive temper.

"Excuse me?" she exclaimed. Adrien kept himself from flinching at the volume. "How dare you talk to me like that? You're supposed to be my friend!" She sounded more indignant than hurt, but the hurt was there, mixed in with the anger flashing in her fiery blue eyes. "I can't believe even you would choose her over me! You don't even know her!" And then she stormed out of the store.

All eyes were on him.

And he had no idea how to respond.

He looked apologetically at Marinette. "I should go…"

"Probably," she agreed, her face thoughtful.

He nodded quickly. "Another time, then." And then he left to find his friend.

He didn't know whether or not he should feel guilty, but he did. Even though Chloe was obviously being ridiculous, and even though she was rude, callous, and arrogant, she was very sensitive, and her oversized ego hurt her more often than anything else did. He had learned to approach her carefully, but he had been so offended for Marinette's sake—and, if he was honest, so embarrassed to be associated with his own friend—that he had disregarded her emotions in an effort to look better in front of his lady.

In hindsight, something about what he had said sounded very much like his father. The thought made him flinch.

He asked the spectators if they had seen where she was going, but before he could follow their directions, he heard a crash and whirled around to see exactly what he hadn't wanted.

"Plagg, claws out!" he yelled from the inside of a cramped bathroom stall. Ladybug was, predictably, already on the scene.

"I think I know what happened here," she said.

Of course you do, he thought. "Really? Fill me in."

"I think it might have been partially my fault…" she led in sheepishly. "Although it's hard to feel guilty," she added under her breath.

Was this what she always meant when she thought things were her fault? Amazing. It was obviously his fault. "I really don't think you can blame yourself for this one, my lady," he assured her, trying to be vague. "I saw part of it. I'd blame anyone but you in this case."

She smiled softly at him. "Let's not pass blame. I think we have bigger—" Her eyes flew open and she tackled Chat to the ground. A yellow streak shot through where he had been standing, and the bystander behind him vanished.

"Only look at me!" a grating voice shouted. And they did. As did everybody else.

Chloe stood tall in a long yellow fur overcoat, replete with black trim and "complimented" with insanely high black platform boots. A pair of large round mirrored sunglasses hid her eyes.

"Very mod," Adrien muttered.

The flower-power look was thrown off by her scowl. "How dare you choose her over me?" she screamed. An unfortunate spectator caught his reflection in her glasses and disappeared in a burst of yellow.

"Not groovy," Chat commented drily. Ladybug narrowed her eyes at him. "Just saying," he mumbled. And then he got to work distracting while Ladybug got to work planning. They were able to piece together that the glasses were the operative agent. Kind of like Medusa, but in reverse. It was the mirror that turned you to stone… or, rather, turned you into air.

Mirrors.

"Ladybug!" he called to across the room. She always kept a compact mirror on her and tended to use it obsessively. "There should be a mirror somewhere. That's probably the akuma."

"Got it!" she called back.

They did get the mirror, and Ladybug did de-evilize it.

Chat disappeared almost immediately after, leaving Ladybug to deal with the flustered post-akumatization Chloe. He ran right back after detransforming.

"There you are!" he exclaimed when he found them. "Chloe! I was so worried!"

She looked disoriented. "Really?" she asked. He didn't even attempt to read her emotions. He was too tired for that.

"Of course!" he replied. "You're my friend! I should get you home. I think you should rest some."

"Yeah…" she mumbled. He put his arms around her shoulders and led her toward the exit.

"Thank you for saving us, Ladybug!" he called back at the super heroine.

Her head was cocked to the side, her bright, open face thoughtful. "Glad to help," she called back softly. They shared in a smile, and Adrien thought he could feel his heart melting.

The limo driver was there in seconds, and Adrien helped Chloe in before following her. She leaned over onto his shoulder. She looked exhausted.

"I'm sorry I got mad at you," he told her. "I was very harsh. I'm sorry."

"Yeah," she mumbled into his shirt. "I don't get it. She's awful to me. Why would you stick up for her?"

"I think…" He spoke slowly, as careful as possible. Not only was she impossibly selective in her information processing, but she was as defensive as a steel fortress and as stubborn as a mountain as well. He wanted his words to help. "I think that she doesn't mean to be awful to you," he finally said. "And I think… that maybe you should try being nice to her first, even if you think she's awful." He couldn't make himself say anything bad about Ladybug. There wasn't anything bad to say about her. But Chloe clearly hated Marinette, and if he could do anything to ease things between them, he would try his best to do it. "Be the bigger person, you know? Show everyone how patient and kind you are. I think… I think she'll respond well to that."

"But I hate being patient and kind," she grumbled. "They know how great I am already."

"I know you do," he said softly. "But maybe… Just try it, okay? Do it for me."

"I'll try," she mumbled. Her eyes were closed.

When they arrived at the hotel, he roused her enough to get her inside and up to her room. She went to sleep almost instantly in her huge, luxurious bed. She looked so relaxed when she slept. Sleeping Chloe was totally likeable, down to her not-so-subtle snoring. There was a really great person deep down inside her. He knew that person. And he hoped that, eventually, everyone else would know that person, too. Chloe would be so much happier then.

He sighed and took the elevator downstairs. He opted to walk back to the mansion instead of calling for a ride. Tired as he was from the social stress, his tiff with Chloe, and the fight, the brisk autumn air felt like therapy breezing against his warm cheeks. Being akumatized must take more out of a person than being Chat Noir. Or maybe he was just used to it.