As the lights dimmed away and the spot lights ceased their dancing, Marinette could see Chloe's eyes grow wide and her mouth open slightly. Fuck! Did she say that out loud? In the dim light, Marinette spun quickly to the edge of the stage where her friends who were watching. Nino, despite having on the shades and headphones, could still see. Knowing him, he followed the impromptu competition by matching lips to real words in his head. His face matched Chloe's. It must have been a three for one deal, because Alya was identical. She reached frantically for her camera that was sitting on the tripod and rewound the last minute and watched it again. After she reached the end, she retraced it another few seconds. Her grip tightened on the camera. She threw her arms up in the air and shouted how much she knew there was something going on.
Chat Noir on the other hand was the calmest of them all. He was leaning forward in his seat that had been reserved for him with a big grin on his face. There wasn't any way of getting out of this. He definitely heard. Every soul from Chloe to the bar heard. They just had to be quiet on all nights. Plagg finished handing out the last of the drink orders before jumping over the counter. The second he passed over the polished wood, there was a rip in the silence. Whistling and someone yelling 'Yea, he is!' was the loudest of what they heard. Under the loudest contenders was regular talking of 'the new ladybug is hot and already taken. How fair is that?' and 'I knew she could win.'
In the heat of the moment, Chloe was speechless. Now that people were already saying Marinette won was inconceivable because they hadn't even come to a vote. She spun to the crowd and was holding her hands out-shouting for everyone to calm down and to come to a vote. If anything, the people grew louder.
Tikki's voice boomed over the crowd. "Thank you for attending the 377th battle for the title of Ladybug! May I present to you…" Tikki's arms showcased Marinette's tiny frame. Marinette rolled her shoulders back and stood proudly for the crowd. "—Your Champion."
The spotlights flickered before steadily focusing on to Marinette. The bright lights washed out her pale skin and accented her bright red lipstick her friend had forced on her earlier that night. Her dusted freckles were more pronounced and her eyes had never been bluer. The smile laced on her face burned all her the way down to her stomach. It was so big that all her teeth had to separate to compensate. The crowd welcomed her with loud cheering and the sloshing of their drinks in the air.
Tikki stood with her arms akimbo next to her. Marinette didn't need to look over to see those mysterious eyes reveal their final secret. She could feel it. It seeped through her skin and embraced her bones. Tikki's body was leaking the secret intel that she kept buried this whole time. Her aura was running her hands through Marinette's hair and feeding her smile. It was intoxicating and even worse—harshly addicting. Marinette was more than familiar and will continue to cherish. It raised her up and made her feel…warm.
It was love.
And it was pride.
And Marinette couldn't get enough.
Marinette knew Tikki was proud of her the moment she created her first piece for Lady Luck. She knew that she loved her from the moment the small black card slipped into her fingers. Despite Tikki hiding how much she cared for her charge, it was evident in everything she did. It was her long awaited destiny that she would be emersed in the love of Lady Luck. If she didn't know better—she'd say she was home.
Lost in the overflow of feeling, Marinette hadn't realized that her friends had climbed on the stage. A bouquet larger than she had ever seen in her lifetime was shoved into her hands. The smell reminded her of the feeling she was receiving. It was the perfect personification of the butterflies soaring throughout her. Alya was smiling and punching her right arm repeatedly with both of her fists. Her voice was just a loud note drawn out over a long period of time. In front of her, Nino gave his sign of approval in the form of a thumbs up and a smile. It was only in Nino's surprised expression that Marinette knew someone was behind her. Marinette's head didn't even make it half way to see who it was before she was hoisted into the air.
Chat Noir placed his newly official partner on top of his shoulder and supported her weight with his arm. Alya's face was beaming with support and mimed Nino's previous actions. Marinette snaked an arm around Chat's back and grasped the unoccupied shoulder to hold herself steady.
She would never be the same.
Chloe and her shadow glowered at Marinette from across the room. On an occasion like this, all of the staff would gather in one place. The common room held old faces and introduced new ones. Chat sat against the couch, on the floor, between Marinette's knees. Alya was at her side and Nino was at Chat's. Plagg's words cut through the cloth door as he ushered Alix in with some choice beverages. Some popped with carbonation while others swirled with colors.
Following behind Alix and Plagg came Juleka and Rose. These were two girls who didn't frequent the bar as much as the other dancers. Their appearance was a treat. One wore tall high heels and a short mini skirt that corresponded with a sports bra of the same hot pink color. Her hair touched the delicate small of her back and was what probably had inspired Crayola for the purple crayon. That was Juleka.
Beside her was a tiny blonde with large entrapping eyes. She was taking lessons from Tikki to be an opera singer (not that Tikki knew more about singing than the next person).Their fingers were tightly woven and they walked in tandem despite their large height difference.
Even without the four inch heels—Juleka was taller than her by at least a few inches, they didn't mind. They were never apart. When one shows up—the other soon follows. Rose laid down a nice arrangement of cheeses on the table. From the classical Monterey jack to Plagg's favorite: Cambert. No one could stand the smell, but if it made the grouch's day? Why not let him feel included?
Juleka sat on the arm of the couch and ruffled Marinette's head in silent recognition. Rose soon joined her (with two cups she found on Alix's tray) in her hands. She hurriedly shuffled across the floor—her body swaying in attempts to force the spillage to cease. She handed a 3/4th full cup to her partner all the while leaning forward to plant a loud smooch on Marinette's cheek.
The room was so full of life.
Happy, wonderful, life.
Tikki wasted no time to bring out the cake. Marinette recognized it immediately. In bold cursive writing the cake sang "Welcome Home Ladybug" with a small red ladybug crawling on the bottom of the icing. It was the cake Tikki had bought months ago. Frozen and thawed out again to be here at the party. The cake order that started it all. She had almost forgotten how they met. When the pieces came crashing together, Marinette smiled. Tikki was never intended it to be the way it was. She was never there for a seamstress.
The party was had and fun was had by all. The room kept the teasing to a minimal but if any of them had pretended they didn't hear the declaration would have been a lie. The only one not making a big deal out of it, or even commenting for that matter, was the end of all the jokes. Chat Noir didn't leave Marinette's side that night and on no occasion did they talk about what happened.
The silent acknowledgement was nice in itself but left Marinette itching to know how Chat felt about the whole thing. Yes, he liked her. Common knowledge. What they would do past the initial getting their heads out of their asses was a tighter knit secret. Not knowing was not killing her but was definitely giving her an unsettling feeling. When Chat looked at her, there were no questions. Everything just…was.
It was when the group dissolved and was saying goodbyes that Marinette found herself hesitant. She would go home, fall asleep, and wake up and pretend it never happened. Put that track on repeat and it would only lead to more problems. The moment she walked out that door would be pressing the replay button. If anything would change, it was now. Whether the change was for the better or worse was yet to be seen as she approached Chat Noir with her heart in her throat and weakness on her sleeves.
"Chat, I…" Marinette ground out. Chat was holding a black shirt but was making no effort to slide it on. Her resolution was strong but her words gracefully fell off the band wagon. What was she expecting herself to say? 'Hey you're pretty slick and the only thing that came between you, me, and hot and heavy dancing is the fact that I got flowers from a mystery boy on more than one occasion.'? She inspected her words wisely and compared them to the blond's expression.
"My Lady?" Guilt slapped her in the face when she realized he was expecting an apology along with the lines of 'it meant nothing'. He was so gentle with her not because they finally came to a mutual understanding but because of disbelief. Strong rooted disbelief caused by her not making up her god forsaken mind because of a stupid 1%. He was content with being around her but not because 'oh god it's finally here' but for more like 'just for this moment'. Where Chat Noir could just play along that his Ladybug was finally his. Marinette began to form an apology.
"You hungry? Want to grab some dinner? My treat." His words acknowledged her barrier of thoughts and broke them down one by one. Dinner…that sounds nice.
The night was full of laughter and moments of pure joy. Marinette indulged in holding Chat Noir's hand every step they took towards a 24 hour diner. Despite wanting to be fully immersed in the moment, Marinette found herself losing track of details. She remembered that she ordered food—just couldn't remember what. She was talking to Chat but couldn't remember her answer…or even if she answered at all. The mask decorating her partner's pale face, that she had come so familiar with, was bothering her.
Granted, she was also wearing her mask and couldn't throw a fit. Marinette didn't bother looking at a clock to know it was past any normal hour. The waitress took one look at their barely clothed bodies with matching facemasks and took it in stride. How often did people come in this diner in costume to make the waitress so dead inside?
The meal wasn't in silence. Far from it. Marinette just couldn't remember the conversation. Her mind kept flickering back to his mask. Before, she was his equal and he was entitled to keep all the secrets from her that he desired. Tonight felt different. Tonight they were more than equals. They were partners. It somehow felt a little more special…as if there was an unspoken bond. She'd jump into harm's way for him if so needed. But it wasn't needed. It will never be needed. They weren't superheroes.
There was no other format to prove to each other their trust to the other than their secrets and identity. Her identity wasn't hidden. From day one she was known to the whole crew. Sure, when she waitressed, she used a simple rinky-dink mask to hide herself from perverts. Nothing more. Chat knew her but she was clueless to his personal life. The balance was severely off centered.
It had only been a few hours and Marinette was already beginning to believe she was being deprived of that equilibrium. There was no significant trust fall or villain to go against together. They were normal ordinary human beings. It was up to her to make her own significant event.
There was an abrupt silence drifting through the air. By the way Chat Noir brushed at his hair near his ear, teasing the clips that keep his mask securely in place. There is a halfhearted laugh that followed the gesture that hints at Marinette probably slipped up and spoke her mind or had been staring. Chat Noir brushed it off with a smile and a quick quip that Marinette couldn't seem to focus on.
"I'd take you to a skeevy bar to get your mind off whatever's got your frilly polka dot panties riding where the sun don't shine…" Chat's voice broke through whatever barrier of incomprehension that Marinette had built with his best attempt at a southern drawl. "But seeing as we both moonlight as fancy circus animals shaking our goodies, bringing shame to our families for generations to come?" Marinette's reaction must have been greatly desired because Chat seemed to ease up a bit around her. When did he become tense?
"No, no, this is perfect." Marinette slipped out of her seat on her side of the booth and stood for a moment. This action caused Chat to go through a bunch of facial expressions. He didn't expect Marinette to be motioning him to scoot over. Confusion, hurt, acceptance, confusion, confusion, confusion.
Happiness.
Chat scooted over with an arm outstretched which fit around Marinette's body perfectly. The skin on skin contact brought a comfortable heat, seized any tension and dispelled it. Dinner forgotten, the couple cuddled in the booth at the ripe hour of 3 am. No one around for miles except sleepy workers and overachievers. There was no one to pass any judgement on them (not that their judgement mattered to either dancer). And if there was a gentle kiss shared between them? Well no one was the wiser.
Fingers meshed perfectly and the chatter never ceased. There was too much to talk about to stop. How Tikki found her, first impression of Chloe, and how she tried passing off the outfit onto someone else. How Plagg found him, how it takes a good croissant in the morning to fully wake up, how he sends his assistant to a bakery around the corner every morning, how the fog machine caused him to fall on his ass the first time they used it, and how he lost his breath the moment he met Marinette.
Marinette hit Chat in the arm playfully but didn't pull away. They both knew exactly how they met and there was no breath escaping either of them in those moments. Marinette was sitting at the bar drawing her latest attempt at making Chloe happy. She got a little side tracked and started doodling outfits the second the new Chat Noir walked through the door. He was very distracting to her with the way he walked like a model and knew everyone was watching. Distracting was far from breath taking.
He didn't even notice her at first. She was left to sketch in her book and listen to Tikki welcome Plagg back. She had a pair of earbuds shoved in her ears but nothing was playing. Music was a distraction. Noise was a distraction. Chat Noir was a distraction. He was throwing clothes here and there with no regards for their construction, their integrity, or that the person who made every single article was sitting next to him.
The room grew loud with harsh words about Marinette shared between Plagg and Tikki. They both thought she couldn't hear them, she concluded. They were frustrated that they didn't have a Ladybug and just when Plagg thought they got one, she was more interested in sewing than anything. It irritated Marinette beyond belief—but she wouldn't let anyone know that. She was recruited as a seamstress and Tikki had to constantly remind him to shut up. Tikki knew they needed Marinette for costumes. At least, at the time, that's what Marinette believed. Apparently Tikki and Plagg were on the same page the whole time.
Chat Noir had walked up to her and it was automatic for her to turn the page. He wasn't happy with the shoes. He was holding her favorite, albeit simple, pieces. He was right. There wasn't any good option for the outfit he was holding.
"Did you make all of these?" His voice was rich and warm. Marinette knew in that moment that he was going to be a problem. What kind of problem she wasn't sure but a problem none the less. They sat together for the next few minutes drawing out his dream boots. He still wears them to this day regardless how many times she offers to make him a new pair. That somehow made her happy—but still far from breathless.
It was easy to talk to Chat Noir. Pressed against each other, they continued to share experiences and desires. Well, not real desires as much as "One day…I'm going to make Plagg eat something other than smelly cheese!" or "Green and black would look good on you too. I am going to get you to invert the costume colors." on Chat's part. Marinette would counter just as smoothly with "as if" and "never in a million years."
"I think they're going to kick us out." Chat laughed. That's all they were doing. Laughing. He guessed he was a little too loud for the diner's taste. They had been there for an hour or two and even Marinette knew that was way past their welcome. Chat tried pushing Marinette from the booth but Marinette stood firm while gripping a menu.
"Uh—" Marinette made a soft noise of disapproval. Leaving meant going home. She wasn't ready to walk away from the fun she was having. "I was going to force you to buy me dessert too!" She feigned hurt and looked at the menu. There was nothing really appealing to her at the moment but she was sure she would be able to pretend it was something she was looking forward to all night. Her eyes narrow in on the bottom line of the dessert menu. Macaroons.
"I want to see if these are as good as the ones I make." They ordered a couple without hesitation and took it to go. Marinette waited by the door while Chat paid the bill. She couldn't make out exactly what they were saying but she didn't miss a €20 note handed to the waitress. At first she looked confused but soon accepted it. Whatever he said to her had to have been convincing. Although tipping was only uncommon, not unheard of, tipping the same amount as the bill was absurd.
"Give me one." Chat Noir reached over and tried to grab a macaroon from the Styrofoam container. The words posed more as a question than a demand—at the same time he was moving forward to forcefully take one. Marinette deflected his advances and popped a purple one in her mouth. It wasn't good as hers, as she soon found out, but they remained edible. There were four nicely lined in the Styrofoam. Three—now that Marinette helped herself to the blueberry flavor.
The walk home proceeded to be jokes and gentle pushes. Hand brushing and sly smiles. Marinette's house was close but apparently Chat Noir's was closer. In their search to extend the night, Chat Noir invited her to come see his apartment. At the time, the remark had been pretty innocent. Closer to the apartment, Marinette began to get tense.
No shit Sherlock. Marinette cursed to herself. Of course he's expecting—Marinette couldn't even finish the thought. It was rude to believe that Chat would do anything that Marinette didn't approve of. Just because she accepted an offer to see his place doesn't mean anything. It had to have shown that she was slightly withdrawn because Chat loosely intertwined his fingers and said in a very solemn voice, "Only a tour." Unless you're down. Marinette added mentally. Chat had been trying to jump her bones since day one she's positive. "Swear."
Marinette appreciated his concern. She wouldn't have accepted his offer if he was anyone else. Chat Noir looked at Marinette like she personally hung the stars in the night sky. Every time she brought out a new piece he would be the first to tell her it's her best piece yet…and mean it. He was the most impatient person she knew and yet he would wait as long as he needed for Marinette to get around to helping him. His eyes just glowed when Marinette spoke to him.
Sometimes she wondered if he saw her look at him in the same way.
It was stupid to wait to see if feelings grew for the flower child. He was just a fan. A very cute fan but a fan none the less. It shouldn't have stopped anything from forming between the two friends. A warmth spread like wild fire throughout Marinette's body at the thought. This is right. This feels right.
Marinette squeezed the fingers in her own and smiled at her…would 'boyfriend' be too soon? They finished off the macaroons and tossed the Styrofoam in a waste receptacle as they came up to the front door of the apartment complex. It was built like a townhouse. One door with multiple floors. In this part of town? It probably cost a fortune. The reds and browns of the brick were to die for and the dark green shutters matched it perfectly. It would make anyone stare in pure amazement at just the architecture.
Chat unlocked the door and held it open for his date to walk herself in. Marinette smirked, sauntered casually up to him and tried pushing Chat Noir into the house before her. Being the gentleman he claims to be, Chat refused to go in first. They play fought for a good five minutes before Marinette overtook him. They both tumbled into more than a few feet through the threshold of Chat Noir's home.
When they met the wall, their laughter erupted. Both of them knew what was in their drinks was nothing more than sweet syrup and bubbles. With all the stress from the past few weeks, laughter was long overdue. For tonight, the world was theirs. Nothing could get in the way of that.
Chat Noir leaned down to kiss Marinette but she was too distracted to reciprocate. Her hands were locked on her knees and her voice began to rasp from lack of air. When Chat finally saw Marinette let loose—the lack of attention went unnoticed. His lady was there, in his apartment, and he had more than just time.
After Marinette regained her composure, or what little she could pull together, Chat let go of her shoulders to wobble on her own. As she walked, she removed her shoes without diverting her eyes from the décor. Chat leaned against the frame of the living room's entry way and let her figure things out. Marinette was looking with her hands more than she was with her eyes. When the tips of her fingers collided with another piece of furniture, Chat would introduce her to it.
"Wall, wall, door, lamp, wall again." This brought back giggles to the both of them. It was only the entry way and since there wasn't much to discover, her hands eventually found their way back to Chat's bare chest. She ghosted over him for a moment before settling to a spot of choice.
"Does this tour stop at the door?" Marinette's voice was playful and was every bit of teasing to the blond. Chat's eyes scanned her every inch looking for some sort of sign. Anything to say it was more than a joke.
"I will never stop showing my lady what she wants to see." His words rolled off his tongue as a purr. Apparently it was the correct response to her question by how her body leaned in towards him. Marinette grew mischievous—causing her to drag her hands down to his belly button.
"Never?" Her response feigned innocence. She was gazing at her hands and the trail her nails gently left behind. Her eyebrows couldn't go any higher as she pretended she didn't know how she was affecting him. Chat gulped.
"Never."
Marinette's expression spoke thousands of words but one phrase came out loud and clear without being spoken. I'll hold you to it. Chat proceeded to show her his living room, his kitchen, his bathroom, hell, even his closet. Marinette repeatedly asked to be shown more and Chat was deliberately leaving out the bedroom as to not tempt himself. Marinette picked up on it and continued to press.
"So there's nothing more?" She made sure to sound almost disappointed.
"Nothing." Chat was resolute.
"So where do you sleep?" As soon as her question escaped her lips, Chat Noir came up with a rebuttal. He was leaning against the frame of the door to the unexplored room with as much chill as he possibly could.
"I don't sleep." He lied. How could he be chill when he looked like he was lit on fire and let loose next to a gas station?
"Chat…"
"Alright you caught me." He threw his hands into the air. "The window. The draft sometimes keeps me up but the sight at night is worth the cold." He motioned to the small window above his couch where he had thrown a pillow a few nights ago in anger. It seemed to make the story work but Marinette wasn't having it.
"How appropriate." She laughed. The way her smile pressed into her cheeks almost hurt. Smiling and laughing took a lot out of her. It was clear from the eyeroll that was gracefully executed that she wasn't believing him even for a second. Marinette tugged on Chat's wrist and rolled through the now opening door with Chat fumbling in soon after.