Disclaimer: I own nothing.


vii.
vendre la mèche

J'étais aveugle.


"Oh, no, no, no—merde…"

Pulling hard was a mistake. The string snapped too early and Marinette was left huffing and sliding the entire piece out. She restarted, poking her needle into the fabric and diligently embroidering.

A dress. White and blue with a couple of intricate floral designs on the bust and hem. Of course, she had yet to put the final thing together, labeled pieces placed aside to be attached at the end. Alya was slightly broad-shouldered and she possessed more curves than the bluenette. [Marinette was a bit jealous of her. What would it take to have a bigger chest? Seriously. These were things she needed to know.] For this reason, she was glad to have saved her friend's measurements from an earlier project to avoid making something that wouldn't even fit her. After all, her best friend's birthday was in less than twenty-four hours and she hadn't had any time to finish these embellishments.

Her week had been grueling; schoolwork, tests, student council duties—and to top it off, Akumatized villains seemed to become more and more common so Ladybug and Chat Noir were in a constant demand. The kitty cat, however, had been absent and for good reason. She had no idea why as Ladybug but Marinette knew full well that he required as much rest as possible to get better after the injury he'd received.

With a sigh, she lowered her needle and pressed her hands to her cheeks, slumping forward at her desk. "Marinette, maybe you should take a break?" Tikki fluttered towards the girl, hovering by her shoulder as she offered the suggestion.

"I can't, I need to get this done as soon as possible," frowning, lips pursed in a pout, "Not only that, but it has to be perfect!"

"You need to make time for homework, too, you know. Remember last time when Madame caught you doing it in class?"

Looking a bit sheepish, Marinette then leaned back in her chair and huffed. She appeared to consider something before her eyes widened and panic crossed features. The girl briefly scanned her desk as well as the box of materials at her feet, searching for—"Ribbon! I totally forgot to buy ribbon!"

She hopped out of her seat, gripping her pigtails in frustration. "Aah, do you think I'll be able to run out and get some now? What time is it?" Frantically, the aspiring designer checked her phone and groaned. Oh, right. Most stores were closed on Sundays.

Her best bet was to head down there after school tomorrow, finish the dress, and get to Alya's house immediately afterwards.


Adrien had effectively been under house arrest.

Ah, he could still go about his day to day life. Luckily, fencing had been on hold while his teacher took a much-needed vacation after his Akuma incident, so he didn't have to worry about that – and the gym teacher was far more forgiving on him not feeling well than his father skipping school. His reputation helped with that, at least. [If Adrien said he feeling queasy, well, it was the truth!]

But, Chat Noir? There had been none of that. Not even when he was desperate to help Ladybug or even check on her. Plagg had been playing hide and seek all week. The only reason he knew the kwami was around was because the cheese he tended to leave out still mysteriously disappeared.

After a week, the benefits of being a Miraculous holder came into his play and his wound had healed. It was sensitive and ached on occasion, but there was no real risk of it opening again. Taking out his stitches had been fun, but...well, it didn't compare to getting them in. Plagg had also finally returned and promptly ignored all of Adrien's protests, pointing out it was for his own good.

"You don't have to be that self-sacrificing," his kwami pointed out in annoyance.

"What if she had really needed me?!"

"She managed. It's better than you dying."

Adrien sighed and shook his head. No, none of that mattered. What did, was catching up on some freedom and paying some people back. He had transformed, and the first thing he did was try to call Ladybug.

Of course, the call didn't get through, which was far from surprising. She probably wasn't transformed. He'd try again that night and… do what he could to explain himself. For now, he had someone else to pay a visit, too.

At least, he had been well enough to go out shopping the past few days.

He may have become a bit zealous, but a large duffel bag would be hard to carry as Adrien.

A grin tilted his lips.


It was good to run again. To enjoy the fresh air and elevation, the lack of restrictions. Soon enough, he was at the bakery. Chat Noir scanned the area, making sure no one was paying attention before landing on the balcony. He pressed his ear to the hatch, listening for movement.

What he heard was Marinette yelling about time, but there was only one step of footsteps. Surely, if she was late, so was the other, and both would be moving. He could offer his services when it came to travel! He knocked on the hatch loudly in hopes that she might hear over her panic attack.

It worked, and her attention was drawn to the ceiling. Marinette blinked. Who was up there? Her first instinct was to check, but after a little consideration, she came to the name of the only other person she knew who could vault over rooftops to get here.

She would have been slightly irritated, given the current situation, but Marinette hadn't seen him in nearly a week—needless to say, she was worried.

Climbing up and unlocking the hatch, she met the vivid green eyes of her favorite feline, "Chat Noir! What are you doing here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" The questions slipped past her lips in a rapid fire, not allowing him the opportunity to answer them consecutively.

Chat Noir laughed and a mild pink painted her cheeks, embarrassed about going off at him like that. It had been a spur of the moment thing, too blinded with concern to notice that he appeared to be just fine. [She could go at it when she was emotionally invested, couldn't she? It was cute if he was honest, but it did make it a bit hard to talk.]

"In reverse order. No, I'm not hurt. Yes, I am okay. And I'm here because I've finally been cleared for rooftop travel and to deliver a present," he spoke smoothly, patting the duffel at his side.

"Good, good!" Marinette had ducked her head, starting back down to let the other inside just as he mentioned something about a gift. "You—didn't have to get me anything," she sheepishly told him, eyeing the duffel from her position. It was a terribly sweet gesture, but she was just glad to find that her partner had healed and was back on the prowl for adventure. No pun intended.

He'd seen her blush plenty of times, she seemed to do it often around Adrien. Yet, seeing her like this and still managing words? There was something very attractive about that. It took everything in Chat Noir to not try and get her to do it again.

He hopped down, tugging the duffel bag from over his shoulder. "I know, but you helped me a great deal, Princess, and it's rude to not do the favor somehow. And before you argue about saving your life, I'm a superhero and that hardly counts when you're a superhero." He didn't want people to owe him for that. It was his decision to become one and it certainly wasn't to make people indebted to him. It was for himself, for what he thought was right, and his desire to have a positive impact on the world and Marinette supposed she could understand this. She wouldn't want anyone to feel that way towards Ladybug, either.

She was about to question him just as he tilted his head with a grin. "But, I suppose the present can wait. If you're late for something, Princess, I would be happy to get you there. It's amazing how much time you save when you can go in a straight line instead of dealing with streets."

"Ah! If only it wasn't Sunday…" Her voice rose with thinly veiled distress, eyes suddenly teary. "I, um, I needed to stop by the crafts store a few blocks from here to buy ribbon. But, everything is closed today—so I…"

He blinked at her, noting the drastic change in her tone and Marinette struggled to keep her composure.

"Ribbon? Well, you may be in luck, my dear!" Chat Noir kneeled and unzipped the bag to show off quite a bit of supplies, and her eyes widened. There was fabric, [some incredibly expensive ones at that], thread, needles, replacement parts for her sewing machine, [he may be a bit too familiar with machine brands], outfit patterns, and, of course, ribbon.

Picking up several tubes with rolls of ribbon on them, he held them out to her. "Are any of these the color you need?"

"Yes!" the girl nearly squealed out the word, leaning closer to survey the spools of shiny tape. He had even brought the exact shade of blue she was been looking for. Had he seriously meant to give all of this to her? […He may have gone overboard, but he was pretty sure his father would accept it if he just said he was buying a present for a friend. There were plenty of designers at school.]

"Chat Noir!" Unable to help herself, Marinette lunged forward and tackled the cat in a hug, grinning. He jumped, tail and ears going straight up in his shock. Eventually, he chuckled and wrapped his arms loosely around her to return the gesture. Had she the strength, she would have lifted him in her arms and spun him around without wasting a second. "Merci, merci, merci…!"

A hug of gratitude. Chat Noir hadn't expected it, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise. He had been lacking affection with Nino giving him space due to his 'rather nasty bruises from falling down the stairs.'

The female clung to him, nuzzled his cheek, and it caused him to melt a little bit. That was especially nice with his feline instincts in full force. He could barely fight back the urge to knead her waist. She was all too suddenly drawing away while slipping the tubes from between his fingers. Blue eyes flickered, cheeks glowing a happy pink. "Are you sure I can have this?"

Her heart was soaring, stomach fluttering at the fact that he had gone through the trouble to get this for her. While Marinette was hardly the type of person to grow attached to possessions or focus on material gain, appreciative of her parents and the amount of money her family earned... she could easily consider this one of the best gifts she'd received in her life.

After her kwami, but, that was a different story entirely.

"Bien sûr." Chat Noir beamed. "If there is one thing I don't need to worry about, it's money. I heard the Gabriel Agreste approved of one of your designs, so it must be your passion. And I do love seeing a passionate purrincess."

"Gabriel Agreste?" she repeated. Adrien's father! He had chosen her hat design, and remembering the look the blonde had flashed her in that moment of truth still had Marinette swooning. [Even if it had resulted in a lot of sneezing – who could blame her? She didn't know he was allergic to feathers!] The smile remained bright on Marinette's features, even as she humbly rubbed her nape. "Euh, my passion… Yeah. You can say that. I want to become a designer someday. It'll take some work, but I'm determined to follow through with it."

"I have a fondness for fashion and a great respect for those who can make such beautiful designs. It's not as if I just picked materials for a mademoiselle such as yourself at random." He winked at her, preening slightly. While model work had grown dull, [there was only so much he could be told to smile or stand like this before it was repetitive], he still had a love for the process of making the clothes. Everyone always seemed so ardent about it, and to put their work on the line like that, it was impressive.

"I'm sure you'll get far. If you can impress one of the biggest names in fashion now, you can only be spectacular when you're done with school."

"I…" Her ears turned red at this comment, unable to form a response. "Ahaha…"

She had always held Chat Noir in high regard, but lately, her opinion of him was beginning to change. For the better, not for the worse—she knew how selfless and compassionate he was under the normally audacious display, but to show these facets to an ordinary girl like herself when he certainly had no obligation to was… nice.

Marinette mumbled something of gratitude before she shifted her attention to the pieces of the dress on her desk. Moving to sit, she placed the ribbon spools neatly aside to attach last. Unable to waste time now that she had all her supplies, she resumed embroidering petals into the soft white fabric. In her haste, she wouldn't end up making as many mistakes as she would repeatedly pricking herself so a small box of adhesive bandages was set aside, as well.

"Seriously... I can't thank you enough," the bluenette continued, though she kept her gaze downwards as she plucked the threads and adjusted them in a neat pattern. "You're a lifesaver, chaton—I would have been stressed all night if it wasn't for you."

Chat Noir almost snorted as she dove into her work. Oh, yes, he definitely liked seeing his princess so passionate! It was a good look on her, and the dress was beautiful from what he could tell. "I'm glad to have at least saved you one night of sleep after ruining another," he sheepishly laughed, perching on the daybed to watch her work.

He didn't have anywhere to be for a while and he didn't want to change back. He was enjoying watching her work. And actually talk to her. He had tried several times as Adrien during the week, but he swore, there might actually be a cat following him who liked tongues with how much hers seemed stolen away around him.

She was glad that her back was turned to the cat, sensing him shuffle to settle on her bed, and did her best to focus on the matters quite literally at hand. Once she was sure the heat in her face had scattered elsewhere, she glanced back at the cat with something of a pout, brow dipping. "No way. You didn't ruin it last time, either. I'm happy I was there to help."

"Just because you were happy to help doesn't mean it didn't ruin your sleep," he argued amiably. "You can ruin your sleep doing things that aren't negative, after all." That was usually the case with him, anyway. Late night patrols with his Lady were the best.

Even if he was right, Marinette remained adamant in letting him know that she hadn't minded. "It only matters that you're feeling better now." Tilting her head, she allowed her eyes to scan him not so discreetly. "…Right? Did you get the stitches out?" A week was too early. Healing powers were a gift. She wouldn't ask him to show her with how stubborn these suits were—skintight and difficult to remove—but there was no harm in asking to make sure.

"I did."

Chat Noir intentionally left out the fact he did it himself instead of finding a doctor. Nothing went wrong, so it wasn't a point of concern. "Such is the way of ancient magic. It wants cheese and makes sure you're healthy faster," he smirked, wiggling his fingers in a mysterious fashion. His reassurance caused her to relax and she offered a half-smile, a little roll of the eyes at the evasive statement regarding magic and cheese.

He then crossed his legs, patting his side where the injury was without flinching. "It's tender but no worse than the bruises crime fighting brings regularly. It doesn't even seem like it'll scar too badly."

He'd have to make sure to get makeup whenever he went to the beach or had to show off a swimsuit, but the less obvious the scar, the easier it was to cover up.

"That's great. I—we—hadn't heard from you in a while so ..."

"Oh?~ Missed me, Princess?" he asked with a wicked grin, having noticed the slip. She truly had been worried about him and it warmed his heart to have someone so concerned for him, even if he felt guilty for causing it in the first place.

She smiled a little sadly and he instantly felt bad for teasing her, "Sure. Anyway, I hope this means you'll be more careful from now on."

"Mhm, I'll be keeping track of numbers. And no more forgetting that humans can be dangerous."

"Good. Paris will be relieved to know that you're okay."

Paris. "Hah, maybe. The LadyBlog has been full of so many theories. Some people actually believe I just abandoned Ladybug!" Chat Noir huffed, sounding offended. Like he would ever! "Others are worried that I'm dead."

The theories that said Chat Noir had abandoned Ladybug were ridiculous. Marinette hadn't batted a lash toward them. It was the ones that speculated death… Her chest felt tight just thinking about. Thinking about how her stitches hadn't enough, thinking about every possibly way the situation from that night a week ago could have gone wrong.

"I'll be doing a patrol tonight, see if I can reassure people. Perhaps hover around Alya's neighborhood, if you'd give me a location?" He did have some idea where she lived thanks to Nino, but Chat Noir wouldn't have an obvious reason for it.

"Alya lives a few blocks away from my house, not quite as close to the school." Marinette proceeded to list off directions to her best friend's neighborhood, smiling at the thought of the cat lurking around so people could confirm that he was alive and well now.

She made a mental note to patrol as Ladybug tonight, too.

"I'll see if I can swing by and get her attention." He thanked her. She just nodded, a little distracted. And as her gaze shifted to poking the fabric, she dropped the needle in her lap, fingertips stinging. Bringing them to her lips, she mumbled something annoyed under her breath and peeled the backing off a few small bandages, wrapping them around her index fingers before easily returning to the floral patterns.

His eyes scanned his surroundings now that silence had settled between them. It was an awfully cute room. Full of so many pinks and pastels. Warm, lived in, and so many clothes and posters and pictures of—

Wait, what?

He stared over at the corner by Marinette's computer.

Yes, those were pictures of him. Was that him in a frame?

More than halfway done, Marinette decided she would begin sewing the parts of the dress together in the next several minutes. She hummed thoughtfully, lowering her needle onto the desk, knotting the thread, snipping away the excess.

"How does this look?" She held up the piece of fabric for Chat Noir to see. Long, delicate blue flowers seemed to grow from one corner to the other, all looping stems and tiny leaves. "Should I add a few more?"

He jumped and snapped to attention when Marinette turned to him. The fabric? He tilted his head, hand cupping his chin in thought as he looked it over. "…Depends on when you intend for it to be worn," he finally murmured. "If it's formal, yes. Formal events beg for subtle intricacies. But, if it's more casual, or semi-formal, that a lighter design is better. Then the person doesn't appear to be trying too hard, but still looks good."

Marinette paused, resting the fabric in her lap and smoothing it out. "Hm… a semi-formal design would suit this the best, I think. I'll just leave it at that. Thank you."

"You're welcome. It's a good call. More opportunity to wear it and a princess original deserves to be worn." That was always the shame of some of the more beautiful clothes, knowing they'd only ever be worn once. So much work and effort, to only shine once.

"You're too much," she chuckled bashfully and stood, moving to the opposite side of the room to retrieve her sewing machine from the corner. She had a little trouble bringing it back to her desk but once the item was set down, brow wiped, she sighed and gathered all the pieces of the dress to begin attaching.

He was prepared to offer his help but she seemed to handle it. He blinked and then posed the question that had been lingering in the back of his head. "I mean it, though."

"Still, I wouldn't go that far…" She brushed the words off. He was flattering her, surely, just being nice?

"You should. Your work deserves the praise," Chat Noir continued easily. While he wasn't harsh, he liked to think he was good at being impartial. There was no point in complimenting something that did not deserve it. He didn't need to tear people down, but he'd rather give helpful advice over blind compliments.

Besides, it seemed like something Marinette would find beneficial if he had critiques. Unfortunately, while he did know clothes, the level of expertise Marinette would need from a teacher was beyond his own.

"Thank again." The bluenette proceeded to plug in the sewing machine, adjusting the pedal so that it was placed comfortably under her foot whenever she made a line of stitches. "I do want to see her in this dress. If it's not too fancy, she might like it better." Not to say that her best friend would particularly picky when receiving a gift, but she had a more easygoing style and so Marinette would do her best to suit her tastes.

Chat Noir hummed. Alya, right?

It would be a nice early birthday present. He remembered Nino freaking out about what present to get her at school a few days ago and assured him whatever he got would be great. Nino was a thoughtful friend, after all.

"It's a gift, then? Ah, is it miss repurrter? She does seem to like things being a bit more relaxed," he remarked as she nodded eagerly before chuckling in amusement. "Especially as she might end up chasing us one day in it. That girl does not know the meaning of fear."

"Probably—she's really brave. Reckless and rash, but brave." Marinette was excited for it, wanting to see the look on her best friend's face as she surprised her with the present, the card, the movie. Aware that Nino would also pitch in something, she was determined to make the next day one of the best of the year.

"Very true." His eyes were drawn back to his pictures when she ducked her head to continue. He crawled off the daybed, moving over to study them. Totally unaware to the other's interest in the photos of Adrien scattered throughout the room, [her desktop background, several posters, school photos and those torn from magazines hung on the walls – not to mention the picture frame that sat neatly off to the side, displaying her crush all the same], she smiled at his response. She hadn't thought to hide anything, the suggestion totally slipping her mind in her panic over finishing Alya's dress.

And she had so many. He tilted his head, trying to figure out why. He could understand the magazines, she loved fashion, but some… didn't make sense. He settled on the floor and stared at the photos, looking the perfect picture of a curious kitten with ears straight and tail swaying.

When stillness took over, Marinette found that she yearned to hear his voice. She glanced at Chat Noir, prepared to speak, but she noticed that the kitty cat appeared interested in the photos and posters beside her computer. "A-Ah—!"

Her cheeks burned. She should have put them away. Biting her lip, Marinette sought some kind of excuse for having so many pictures of Adrien. "You already know who Gabriel Agreste is, right? That's his son. He's in my class," she explained, even though most Parisians were indeed familiar with the young model.

Chat Noir glanced over his shoulder when Marinette noticed his staring, looking thoughtfully back at the wall after a few moments. "I'm familiar with Adrien. I've picked him up a few times while getting civilians away from Akuma attacks. And, well, the billboards are hard to miss."

It didn't hurt to establish he wasn't a complete stranger. Especially, after he claimed to save 'Adrien' during the Gamer incident.

The posters and clippings from magazines could be passed off as admiration, but ... photos from class trips, group outings, and yearbooks weren't so easily accounted for. Either way, she wasn't surprised to hear that Chat Noir already knew Adrien. She remembered asking him to rescue the blonde from the park once as Ladybug to which the other had responded that Adrien was already safe and taken care of.

Hesitation seemed to take over her movements and she was soon releasing a sigh and relaxing in her seat.

"I see. Uh, he's… he's a very good friend," Marinette added. [The love of her life, actually.] However, while it wasn't a lie, it wasn't the whole truth either since it would take time before Marinette could speak comfortably in Adrien's presence.

His tail froze, ears perking up.

A good friend? She considered them good friends?

He forced himself to relax even though his mind was racing. She thought they were good friends, but it seemed so difficult to have a conversation with her like almost anything could send her off into a nervous wreck. They were managing more these days, sure. However, it always felt like he was missing something about this girl.

Why did she get like that with Adrien, but not Chat Noir? She thought they were good friends and he wanted that to be true, but why was she lying? Or was that what she considered friendship?

"He is very lucky then," Chat Noir commented. "To have such a good friend."

"Well…"

Eyes cast down, Marinette felt most of her embarrassment subside. Replaced with a calm, almost disheartened smile as she stepped on the pedal and attached the bust of the dress to the bottom portion. "I'm overstating myself. I want to be good friends um, something like that."

She didn't think the cat would care much about what she was saying now, and she supposed that this thought pushed her to continue talking. It could be kept between them. She trusted Chat Noir, after all.

"He probably thinks I'm weird, and I wouldn't blame him. It's it's, ah, difficult. Liking someone so much you can barely think straight around them?" A soft chuckle, a shake of the head, and Marinette removed the piece of dress from beneath the sewing machine needle, observing it before flipping it over to attach the opposite side.

"Maybe you know what I mean."

Something like that. Liking someone that you barely think straight. He would know.

It took a few seconds for the pieces to fall together. Magazines, photoshoots—that was fashion. School pictures, outings, the normal things… that was different. Not just admiration.

Marinette had feelings for Adrien.