To those who loved this fic, and have been friendly company therein. This is for you.
Pretty much the playlist of this entire Chapter, Ashes by Celine Dion.
Author Note: Even though this is technically the "last" chapter, I will continue to update this fic with a few drabbles that expand on things that happened between chapters 24 and 25. And you guys can let me know if you want me to tack on some oneshots that take place after this chapter.
This chapter is dedicated to my late mother, who passed away in a tragic accident back in October.
Roughly Two Years Later
"Have you lost weight again?"
Marinette moved the food around her plate. It was pasta, which meant that the noodles were more fun to manipulate than, say, the sandwich she'd been playing with yesterday. The sandwich had gotten her reprimanded when she disassembled it and left the pieces scattered over a bed of chips. Fortunately, the pasta was a little more discreet.
"Marinette."
She jerked her head up and met her best friend's concerned glare. Judging by Alya's expression, she'd asked a question, and Marinette had been too preoccupied with her noodles to respond. It was probably a yes-or-no question, so she had a fifty-fifty chance of picking the right answer.
"Yes?"
Alya frowned deeply.
Well shit. That wasn't it.
"Yes what?" Alya pressed, ripping a paper napkin between her fingers. "Yes, you lost weight, or yes, you are finally acknowledging that I'm talking to you and you never heard a thing I said?"
Marinette just stared at her with a deer in the headlights look, to which Alya made an undignified noise.
"I'm doing fine," she dropped her eyes back to the plate of food and began stacking pieces of mushrooms together. "What about you? Work things out with Nino yet?"
"Girl, don't you dare change the subject," Alya poked her fork a little too close to Marinette's nose for comfort. "You need to stop blaming yourself for what happened between Nino and I, and for the record, he still texts me about once a week and I'm the one ignoring his desperate ass. What about you? You talking to your Romeo yet?" She raised a superior eyebrow, before taking a bite of bread.
"I have my reasons."
"As I have mine." Alya snipped, and took a sip of tea.
"We finally got the museum west wing renovated for the new exhibit." Marinette tried to change the subject to something lighter. "I'm working with Rose on this one, it'll be her first big project."
"That was the wing that had the Egyptian exhibit, yeah? Was it hard to say goodbye to your baby?"
"Only a little, but it'll be in the capable hands of a museum in Italy for the next year, maybe two. Besides, I'm ready for something new. The previous exhibit... it held too many painful memories."
Alya's understanding look said enough, the changes in the museum were a welcome breath of fresh air, but difficult. "You got the invite to Nathaniel's new art show, yeah? Want to be my date next week?"
The horrendous screech of cutlery against polished plate drew the attention of several neighboring patrons. Marinette about dropped her fork, and had to stop herself from scrunching her nose in disgust. When she spoke, it was in a hushed tone as if the topic were too inappropriate for public.
"You do realize that that showing was sponsored by Chloe Bourgeois, and that she's the subject in most of the paintings, right?"
"No. I. Did. Not." Alya scooted to the edge of her seat, suddenly enthralled by this information. "When did this happen? I thought he couldn't stand her!"
"If you ask Nath, he says it's because she commissioned him, and paid handsomely,"
"Hmm, that's one way to get paid," she snorted. "Those two have such a love-hate thing going on. We should go just for the drama."
"I don't know Alya..."
"Oh yes you do. And don't use Isabelle as an excuse."
"I s'pose I could call Mama and Papa, and it has been awhile since I've seen Nath." Marinette seemed to consider the date, even taking a bite of her neglected pasta. It was cold, but she hardly noticed.
"If your parents can't take her, you know Félix will jump at the opportunity." Alya held up her hand and began ticking off fingers. "See Nath... night off... date with me... support our friends... it'll look good for you as new museum director in Chloe's eyes. I could go on," she hummed knowing very well she'd won already.
"Fiiiiiiiine," Marinette relented. Alya was right, and it had been a very long time since they'd gone out together. It could be fun. "But you're coming over to help me pick out something to wear."
0000
Hidden behind the tinted window of Agent Lahiffe's black sedan they studied the entrance of the Belleville museum. Not much had changed about the exterior in two years, and given the time of day, foot traffic was light.
The day was overcast. Darkened clouds threatened rain, but so far had been nothing more than empty promises.
Fitting, he thought, given his current feelings.
They watched the Belleville's new director step out of a familiar burnt orange city car. She waved goodbye to the driver before starting up the steps of the museum.
Something caused her to halt mid-step and whirl around so sharply she almost lost her balance.
"That's Alya's car," Nino remarked conversationally and nodded to the vehicle that was pulling away from the curb. When he spoke there was a sadness in his voice. Wistful even. "She takes Marinette out to lunch at least once a week."
"Hmm."
Nino nodded towards the woman on the steps who was looking increasingly more distressed. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing at all," he practically hummed to the agent and his mouth pulled into a self-satisfied smirk.
Nino looked between the man sitting next to him and the clearly flustered museum Director. He was perplexed, unsure of what was playing out before his eyes. Alya had talked about this... but he'd never believed it for a second.
0000
Marinette made another circle around Tikki's office and gnawed the cap off her latest pen. Were there more pressing issues to stress about? Most definitely. Or so she tried to convince herself.
She had a mountain of paperwork waiting, for example. She also needed to help their new curator, Rose Lavillant, who was struggling on the information cards for their newest exhibit. She could have asked Juleka, but her assistant had been less than helpful where Rose was concerned. Ever since they hired the new curator, Juleka would freeze up, say even less than she usually did, and hide behind her iPad.
A misstep on her heels sent Marinette stumbling into a filing cabinet and she exploded into a fit of safe-for-work expletives.
The light tinkling of Tikki's giggles brought her out of her self-inflicted swirling vortex of distress. "You've been working yourself into a tizzy since you got back from lunch. Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"
Marinette blinked at her boss several times, at a loss for an explanation. How did she even begin to explain? That she had some weird sixth sense bullshit Chat Noir radar? That she hadn't felt so much as a tickle from said radar for the past two years? Or that on the steps at the front of the Belleville, she'd been overcome with the worst case of chills running up and down her spine, and setting the base of her skull afire.
Because she'd recognized that feeling more intimately than an orgasm.
Which was why she was currently questioning her sanity. Because Adrien Agreste was in prison, and had been since she'd helped Interpol and the PP put him there. There wasn't any way he was here now. None. Her dreams and deepest desires were simply coming to haunt her. This was her guilt surfacing to torment her in new ways.
When news had gotten out that the infamous Chat Noir had been beloved fashion model Adrien Agreste, the press had had a field day. It had been the talk of newspapers, news networks, and the internet. Gabriel Agreste had even held a press conference where he disowned his own son, a feeble attempt to save face for his company.
She'd destroyed Adrien's entire life, both lives, in a single night. Even if he somehow got out of prison, he wouldn't come to see her. Whatever she'd felt outside the museum today... it was wrong.
Marinette straightened up from the filing cabinet and brushed off her skirt. She'd spent far too many nights sobbing herself to sleep over this. She wouldn't let this break her again. And she wasn't foolish enough to delude herself into thinking it was Chat.
She wasn't going to entertain empty hope like that.
"I'm alright. Just chugged a coffee on break and the caffeine is making me crazy."
Her boss raised both brows and regarded her with a disbelieving look. "Mm-hm."
"Excuse me," Juleka's small voice drew the attention of the women in the room. "Director, Senior Director," she addressed Marinette and Tikki respectively. "Agent Lahiffe called to confirm his appointment with Miss Dupain-Cheng, but asked if it could be moved to half past eight."
"Tell him that will be perfect," said Marinette.
"Are you sure?" Tikki asked. "That'll be after closing? Do you need to make arrangements?"
"It's all covered," she assured. "I'll just call Félix and let him know I'll be a little late. He won't mind at all."
"Of course he won't," groused Tikki. "He spends more time playing nanny than he does working."
"Pffft," Marinette snorted, "You say that, but I think you just miss seeing him around the museum. You're the one who approved him to work remotely from his laptop after all."
"So, 8:30? Tonight?" Juleka cut in.
"Yes, I'll be in my office," confirmed Marinette.
Juleka nodded and stepped out of the office, shutting the door behind herself.
"What does Interpol want?" Tikki asked, sounding only mildly curious.
"I don't know. Could be Nino checking up on me again."
"Don't you think he's being strangely official, making an appointment and all?"
Marinette sighed and sank down into the guest chair. "Hell if I know. He's been weird ever since Alya broke off their engagement."
0000
She didn't usually doze off in her office. She must have crashed sometime after seven, and now her body felt stiff, chilled, and there was a mark on her cheek where the material of her blazer cuff had pressed against her skin for too long. Marinette chalked it up to the unusually long day and that she wasn't accustomed to working the long shifts anymore. Overtime was almost a thing of the past.
It took several groggy blinks at her computer screen before she managed to fix on the time. Fifteen past eight. Just enough time to salvage her appearance and walk some life back into her bones before Nino showed up.
Marinette pushed herself up from the desk and started when she knocked something metallic onto the floor. She stared dumbly at the soundless gold bell that rolled under her chair, dragging behind it the fabric of a worn out choker.
Oh yeah, I was playing with it before I nodded off. It was practically a daily ritual to thoughtlessly turn the bell over and over in her hands whenever she was alone.
Marinette bent and scooped it off the floor, depositing it into her blazer pocket.
You were mistaken today. It wasn't...
Opening her office door sent the first tickle of alarm down her neck. It was enough to give her pause, fingers gripping tight onto the handle.
No...
With all the hesitance of a spooked deer, she stepped into the hall. A chill greeted her with icy kisses ticking up each and every vertebrae.
It's absolutely impossible.
She started down the hall slowly at first, deliberate and careful with each step, eventually picking up speed just as her heart broke into a fevered rhythm.
By the time she made it onto the main floor, she was all but running, following a feeling that had tears stinging the edges of her vision.
He's here! He's actually here! There was no mistaking it. Years might've passed, but she never forgot. ...But what the hell was he doing in her museum?
Marinette chased the skittering ant-crawling chill, felt it morph into a burn until it was heaven and hell, ice and fire. She was determined not to let it slip away again, afraid that if it fizzled out she might actually die inside.
The lights were dimmed, per usual past closing, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the ceiling. Not a single shadow escaped her scrutiny, and she'd even fished the old keychain light from her pocket.
She rounded a corner, coming up on the base of a stairwell when the figure of a man caused her to scream and drop the light.
"Marinette! Holy shit, you scared me half to death."
She fumbled for the keylight on the floor, finally snatching it up and shining it in the man's face.
"Nino?" she squeaked. Her heart sank like a rock tossed into a decrepit well. Someone could've dropped a train car on her and it wouldn't have felt nearly as crushing.
"Are you alright?" he asked, sounding concerned. "You looked spooked. Is someone after you?"
Marinette shut off the obnoxious key light and shoved it back in her pocket. The museum's security lights provided more than enough light so long as she wasn't poking around in the shadows.
"Marinette, what happened?"
It was Nino's hand on her shoulder that made her realize he'd come to stand beside her. His mouth was drawn into a tight line, brows knit in concern.
Her trembling lip betrayed the raging disappointment and anger that roiled beneath her surface. She slumped against him, hiding her face in his shoulder before the remains of her composure could deteriorate.
"I thought you were... I felt..." she took a ragged breath, a feeble attempt to calm herself. When she spoke again it was harder, chillier. Picking her words carefully, she said, "I can't explain how, but I thought Ch-Chat was here."
Nino seemed to deflate next to her. "Dude, for the love of God, quit playing this game with her."
A shadow moved in her peripheral.
"I made the appointment tonight to introduce you to my new informant, charge, liability —whatever you want to call him," Nino explained, "He was supposed to be showing me how he used to enter this museum, but now I think he's just full of shit."
The shadow detached itself from the surrounding darkness and hesitantly stepped into the dim light.
There were no endearing cat ears in his coiffed blonde hair, no catsuit, no tool-belt, not even the ridiculous belt-tail that she had begrudgingly become extremely fond of. When she caught his wheatgrass eyes, the pupils weren't slit and the sclera wasn't the toxic chartreuse that had haunted her every night for the past two years.
His usual leather was replaced by an expensive sweater, dark green with the neck folded down, and his pants were ironed black slacks. He looked so normal she almost didn't recognize him.
He looked nervous as hell.
"Adrien," there was no hiding the way her voice cracked, she barely got out his name.
"Hey... Marinette," the way his hand scratched the hairs at the nape of his neck brought a flood of memories rushing to the surface.
It felt like someone slapped her and she forgot to breathe.
"You look... beautiful," he began, "I mean you always have. You never weren't beautiful- I just- you still... uh. God you're still just as pretty." He trailed off in a mumbled whisper, his face turning such a deep crimson that it stained the tops of his ears.
Well there went whatever composure she had left in this situation. Her insides had quite definitely dissolved into a puddle of warmth. Delirious giggling erupted, and she surprised herself by saying, "Yeah... you always did know how to stroke a woman's ego."
"I'm being completely sincere, chér—I mean, Marinette." Shame flickered through his expression for a moment. "It's not flattery."
Her eyes flickered to the floor, then at Nino standing off to the side trying to look busy, and back to Adrien. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm-" Adrien began.
"Oh dude," Nino cut in, looking at his watch dramatically. "Would you look at that, I'm late for a meeting with the director. I'll just go on ahead and you two can catch up." He made a pair of finger guns in the direction of the offices. Nino paused near Adrien's shoulder. "You put a toe out of line and I'm sending you back to prison," he hissed none too quietly in his ear before taking off down the corridor.
Marinette stared after him with a dumbfounded expression. "But I'm the director..."
Adrien smiled warmly, staring at her with a fond expression that was doing a great job at rendering her a quivering mess. "He knows."
Keep it together, keep it together. You aren't the same lovestruck mess you were years ago. Marinette scoffed internally. Oh, who am I even fooling?
"As I was trying to say before," he swallowed. Paused, then said a bit sheepishly, "I work for Interpol now."
She could only blink at him.
"Interpol's getting desperate to catch Hawk Moth. They offered me a bargain, since I've been on such good behavior."
"I take it something new came up in their investigation?"
Adrien's mouth became taut, and his vivid wheatgrass eyes turned harrowed. "I-I'm not allowed to say."
She noted the way he looked pained, like it killed him to tell her that. "Right," she murmured. Of course he wouldn't be able to discuss the details of an investigation. "So you and Nino? You're partners now?"
Adrien cleared his throat, the embarrassment from before bouncing back in style. "No, not quite. I'm his... pet." He gestured down, pulling up his pant-leg a few inches and shaking his ankle to reveal a thick tracking anklet complete with a couple of blinking lights. "Not even I can pick this thing," he remarked with hollow amusement. "Agent Lahiffe is what you'd call my handler now. But as long as I play by Interpol's rules and be a good boy, he agreed to let me come see you again."
There went her heart. Shattering like someone dropped a precious vase on the floor. Not that it wasn't already a broken relic, it had been since the day she handcuffed him and gave him over to the police. No matter how hard she tried to put the pieces back together, there had always been parts missing, like someone had stolen them.
"You actually wanted to see me again? Af-after what I did to you?" The words choked her throat, scraping like glass, and leaving a raw feeling as she tried not to break into tears. You will not cry. You've cried about this for waaay too long. Don't you dare start again now. She had to cup her fingers in front of her mouth to hide the way her chin trembled.
"Mari, there hasn't been a day that's gone by that I haven't wanted to see you again." He reached out his hand like he wanted to take hers, but flinched back.
She could almost see the cat ears curling back on the top of his head, so sorry for almost touching her. This was her Chat, and he was afraid.
He was her Chat. Once upon a time.
"Why?" and it came out more like a sob between curled fingers. "I gave you to the police! Because I didn't want—" unable to finish, she just sobbed into her hands.
Oh so gentle familiar fingers pulled her hands away from her face.
Marinette started as his large hands wrapped around her own. Even after more than two years, his touch still made her skin tingle, still made her feel.
"I know why you did it," he whispered and his voice held a throaty quality. "I was... angry at first," he admitted. "I was scared of being locked up."
He once told me he values his freedom above all else. I took that from him. Marinette couldn't meet his eyes, staring at the way his thumbs massaged the center of her palms instead.
"But," he pressed on, "if you hadn't turned me in, I would have become a monster. I know it. I would have killed for Hawk Moth just to keep you safe."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do. And you knew it too. He had me right where he wanted me." Adrien sighed squeezing her hands. "You saved me, even if I didn't want to accept it at the time."
She finally chanced meeting his eyes, and found them glittering with sincerity and... gratitude?
"Don't cry please." He released her left hand to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. "Tears never looked good on you. You always wore fiery exasperation much better. Especially when it was for me," he teased with a tentative crooked grin.
She couldn't fight the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"Stupid cat," she hiccuped, unable to hide the fierce blush that warmed her cheeks. "You always were a massive flirt."
"Only with you, my lady," he drawled so smoothly it took her back for a moment.
She remembered the first time he called her that, the night he'd given her his bell. A night she never forgot and often played the memories back like watching an old, worn out cassette over and over. She didn't even notice the way Adrien cringed and held up his hands suddenly.
"Fuck, I mean—I'm sorry," he quickly amended, dragging a hand through his blond hair and messing it up. "I didn't mean... It's been years—I shouldn't... you aren't mine anymore."
Marinette snorted and dragged her wrist across her face to mop up the moisture around her eyes. "Says the man who shamelessly flirted with me during a robbery? I wasn't yours back then, I could've been married for all you knew about me, but that didn't stop you."
"I didn't have anything to lose back then," Adrien admitted looking more than a little ashamed.
Her heart made a flip-flop maneuver like a handful of butterflies got released in her chest cavity. "And what do you have to lose now?"
"Everything." Adrien pinned her with a very intense look that sent those butterflies scrambling into her stomach.
She blinked at the terse assertion and it dawned on her that he was laying his heart on the line right then. That what she said next mattered.
There was a lot she wanted to say to him, but couldn't seem to construct the words. Of all the times her tongue had to root itself to the top of her mouth. Did she tell him she never fell out of love with him? How she suffered from sleepless nights dying to feel his touch again? Exactly how desperate was too desperate a confession?
Or should she muzzle her feelings a bit and say something a bit more restrained? Like the way she missed his voice, and the sound of his laugh. Or his eyes, or smile, or playful teasing? Or maybe that she even longed for the few times they simply chilled in her apartment playing video games and watching movies?
That she would have given anything to have all that again... except...
His eyes searched her own as the intensity behind his gaze grew and Marinette realized she needed to do or say something soon.
She slipped a hand into her blazer pocket, fingers curling around cold metal and extracted the object within, holding it up for him to see.
Adrien's sharp inhale was audible, his eyes snapping from her to the gold bell in her hands and back again.
She answered the question in his eyes with a coy smile. "The choker clasp is a little tarnished... from being handled all the time... but do you—do you think you could fasten it for me?"
The look Adrien gave her was a mix of awestruck, strangled, slightly panicked and just bordering aroused.
Marinette held out the bell and he took it like she'd just handed him the Carstairs Diamonds.
Adrien swallowed thickly when she swept her hair to the side and exposed her neck to him. For a long minute, all he did was stare at her like she'd stripped naked for him. Never mind that the way his eyes raked her neck was starting to make her feel naked.
Please touch me, Chaton.
As if he heard her mental plea, Adrien stepped close. He met her gaze momentarily from the corner his eye, a wordless expression passing between them, before he snapped his attention to the task at hand. Shaking hands brushed the skin on her neck, but didn't linger, locking the clasp with the ease she expected from a former cat burglar.
His fingers traced the tired velvet material of the choker to the bell at the front, knocking it with a knuckle as if to confirm the inner ball was still missing.
The silence that followed answered his unspoken inquiry.
I still wear your bell, Chat. I don't think it gets any clearer than that.
"Does this mean you're willing to give me a second chance?"
Her heart gave a stutter before a flash of reservations raised their warning flags.
"That depends, Adrien. What's different from the last time? Aside from you playing on the right side of the law now?"
They were pertinent questions, but her insides still cringed when she watched the child-like hope in Adrien's eyes shrivel in on itself.
"I didn't come here with any expectations, but I also couldn't leave my naive hope behind," he began morosely. "Last time I couldn't offer you anything concrete. I wanted to—God I wanted to, but the circumstances..."
He wanted something concrete? The fluttering in her stomach resurfaced.
He sucked in a breath as if considering his next words. "I want to try again, Marinette; not some temporary fling, but something real. I want a fam—a home. You... being with you felt like home."
Suddenly, that fluttering gained several more friends and her heart tripped over itself once again.
Just take it. It's all yours anyway. As if it ever belonged in her own chest to begin with; the man carried it in the palm of his hands and he didn't even know it.
"For now, interpol is keeping my involvement with them under wraps. It isn't public knowledge that I'm out of prison, and they are keeping it that way for as long as possible. Lahiffe doesn't let me strut around in public unless I'm wearing a disguise." Adrien huffed his resigned acceptance of the circumstances. "Even with all these covert operations, it's inevitable that Father will find out eventually. Especially if he has moles within the police force, as I suspect he does."
This information sent a chill down Marinette's back, and not the good kind.
"But," Adrien continued, "he won't be able to use my status as a criminal against me. And I'll have Nino as an ally rather than a nemesis. I won't be playing an active role in catching Hawk Moth, for now I'm merely an informant. They have me sitting in on meetings and giving them insight via a thief's perspective."
"When your father does find out about you, what's to stop him from coming after me again?"
Adrien opened his mouth to speak, then clapped it shut again and set his jaw.
I see. Every hopeful little butterfly that had dared taken flight inside her now writhed at the bottom of her stomach.
"Nothing," he conceded. "All I can do is assure you that Agent Lahiffe and I will do everything in our power to keep you safe—to keep you off Hawk Moth's radar. I've asked that Lahiffe let me be as transparent with you as possible."
He must've seen the reservation in her expression because he placed a hand to her cheek and soothed a worry line with his thumb.
"As inappropriate as it is to say this: I love you, Marinette. But if keeping you safe means I stay the hell out of your life... I can accept that."
God damn him. Just hearing those words turned her bones to jelly. It was a miracle she managed to stay upright. Why did this have to be so difficult?
"Chat," she began, biting back her own feelings. "I can't—It's not that I don't—I still—I want... it's just...I can't give you an answer right now."
Like the visual representation of a CD skipping, Adrien's expression momentarily flickered through several emotions before settling on acceptance. "I understand." He gave her a comforting smile and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear before withdrawing his hand.
No. Come back dammit! You don't understand. That simple gesture left her wanting more.
Marinette wanted to snatch his hand back, to hold it against her face and just melt into his touch. She wanted so desperately to step into his arms and feel his embrace, to feel those strong arms hold her again. Instead, she awkwardly grasped the bell at her neck, almost as if she could draw strength from it.
"I just need a little while to think about all this."
"Take as long as you need," he assured softly.
The silence that settled between them was the awkward kind. A million things hanging in the air, but neither of them possessing the words.
"I..." Adrien began, "I should go find Agent Lahiffe, before he thinks I'm up to no good."
He turned in the direction of the offices but Marinette couldn't make her legs move to follow him.
"Yeah."
Adrien got about five paces ahead of her before he noticed she wasn't following.
"You gonna make me walk back alone, Chérie?" The playful smile he shot her didn't quite reach his eyes. "I might get lost."
Marinette grinned involuntarily, suddenly lurching forward to catch up with him. "You're full of shit."
0000
"Alya!" Marinette threw open the front door of Alya's apartment and cringed when it crashed into the wall. "I want to diiiiieeeeeee."
"If this isn't an emergency then I'll definitely make it happen." A very bedraggled looking Alya stumbled from the bedroom squinting her eyes at Marinette.
"Where are your glasses?"
"I knocked them on the floor when you screamed my name," she groused. "Help me find them and then you can fill me in on the crisis that couldn't wait until morning."
"Chat's back."
Alya blinked at her. "Shit. Really?"
Marinette nodded vigorously walking passed Alya and into the bedroom.
"How'd he get out?" Alya asked, watching Marinette scour the floor around the night stand for the missing spectacles. "Don't tell me he's stealing again."
"No, he's not. Ah-ha!" Marinette sat up, smashing her head on the corner of the nightstand. She let loose a curse and held out the recovered glasses. "He's working for Interpol now."
"You're shitting me!" Alya snatched her glasses, shoving them on. She sounded more angry than surprised.
"I'm serious! He came by the museum with Nino tonight. And get this, Nino's his handler." She flopped backwards onto Alya's bed.
"That's fucking shit!"
"Why?"
"Because I told Nino years ago that he should work with Adrien, that Interpol should give him a deal, and he was adamant that it wouldn't work. Refused to even consider the idea. Kept telling me he was too untrustworthy, too much of a liability." She made air quotations on the last word.
"Maybe something changed?"
"Or maybe this is a stunt he's pulling to get back in my good graces," muttered Alya. "So why exactly are you at my place instead Adrien's? Or wherever it is he's staying."
Marinette fell silent, and buried her face in Alya's pillows.
"This is about Isabelle isn't it? I take it she's with Félix right now?"
She nodded into the pillows and said somewhat muffled, "I told him to take her for the night."
Alya released a hard breath and Marinette felt the mattress depress as she sank down on the bed next to her.
"He told me he loves me."
"Oh, girl."
"That he wants something concrete with me, something real. He wants a second chance. He told me I feel like home, Alya!" Marinette threw her arms out and screamed her frustrations into the pillow.
"And you told him no because..?"
"Because Hawk Moth is still at large, and that's the whole reason Nino pulled him out of prison. They intend to take him down. Which puts a target on me, and by extension, Isa."
"And an even bigger target if he's caught associating with you." Alya added with morose understanding.
"Exactly! I fucking get everything I've ever wanted tonight; and I had to say no!"
With that, Marinette's exasperation gave way to broken sobbing.
One second she was crying into pillows and the next her face was buried against Alya's chest. Her best friend pulled her into a tight embrace, gentle hands rubbing comforting circles into her back.
"I want hiiim," Marinette sobbed.
"I know."
"This isn't fair..."
Alya held her tighter and buried her face in Marinette's dark hair. "I know, girl. Nino had no business putting you in this position. If his game was to catch Hawk Moth, then he should've waited until after they caught him."
Marinette curled against her, sobs giving way to broken hiccups. "B-but who knows when—hic—that'll happen. It could be years, Alya. Or never!"
"Or it could be next week. We don't know; which is why it's unfair that it happened like this."
Angry music interrupted their shared lamenting. Pink's U + Ur Hand sounding from Alya's cell phone that was trying to vibrate its way off the nightstand.
"Speaking of the Devil. That man is getting an earful from me." Alya pushed Marinette up just enough to wiggle towards the cell. She snatched it off the stand and hit speaker phone. "You've got some explaining to do, Nino."
"I have some explaining? His voice demanded from the speaker. "What did Marinette do to the man? I practically gift wrapped him for her and now he's shut himself in my bathroom and I swear he's crying."
"I'm not fucking crying, Lahiffe," a voice that sounded unmistakably like Adrien shouted in the background. "There was an eyelash in my eye!"
"I don't believe him," Nino said lowly so Adrien couldn't hear.
"Why is Adrien at your place?" Alya asked, squinting at her phone as if he could see her facial expression.
"Hnnngg," Nino huffed, "the place Interpol got him won't have water or power until tomorrow, and Pretty Boy insisted on having a shower. Also, it's cold, and I felt bad."
"Why is Interpol suddenly using Adrien? Why now? And did you even think about Marinette and how she'd feel before bringing him to the museum?"
"Woah, Babe." Nino became defensive.
"I'm not your Babe, boy," Alya growled. "Please tell me you actually have some sort of plan, and didn't dangle cat-boy in front of Marinette just to torture her. Because you know Hawk Moth is still at large, and that puts a reticle on Marinette and Isabelle."
Marinette's heart lodged itself in her throat and she made a choked noise before jabbing Alya with an elbow.
"Shhhhhhhhh!" His frantic shushing caused the speaker to erupt with static. "He doesn't know."
"What don't I know?"
"Mind your own business. This is a private conversation." Nino made a frustrated noise and it sounded like his glasses clicked against his cell phone. "I thought she would be happy to see him again."
"Don't feed me that bullshit. You know damn well she's happy, but you put her in the worst position."
"I—fuck. Okay, I'm sorry. We're working on it. If it makes you feel any better we have an officer from the PP assigned to watch Marinette's neighborhood, and Adrien is anonymously funding the museum's parking garage security. They'll be able to afford new cameras, better lighting, and both night and day guards."
"Where is Adrien getting that kind of money? Didn't Gabriel disown him?" Alya asked.
"Apparently all the money Adrien had before he went to prison was from legitimate means. We tracked all his accounts, his fortune was earned honestly. The damned man never sold a single thing he stole, and we were only able to recover the objects from him that we could prove he stole." Nino made a noise caught somewhere between frustrated and impressed. "So yeah, the dude's loaded."
Marinette thought back to all the times Chat had given her gifts—all the times he'd wanted to spend money on her—that she hadn't accepted for fear it had been funded with stolen cash.
She buried her face in Alya's lap and the redhead started massaging the back of her head.
"You understand why she can't be with Adrien right?" Alya steered things back to the original topic.
Nino heaved a sigh into the phone. "I thought we could make it work. But you're right, it puts Marinette in danger, and that's not fair to her. Is she there with you now?"
"Yeah." Alya tipped the phone in Marinette's direction even though she could hear it just fine anyway.
"I'm sorry Mari, I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have done that to you. I guess I just thought I was doing something good."
Marinette thought about Adrien and if he had actually been crying in Nino's bathroom. She thought about Isabelle who was with Félix, and she thought what the future might bring.
It was ultimately her own decision. Could she risk it? Should she risk it?
I want to try again Marinette; not some temporary fling, but something real. I want a fam—a home. You... being with you felt like home.
She could've sworn he almost said he wanted a family then. He wanted a family with her.
Marinette wanted to give him that family.
Should she really do this...?
"Nino," Marinette began, her voice still hoarse from crying.
"Yeah?"
"Can you get me a one year carry license and teach me to fire a handgun?" Marinette felt Alya tense beneath her.
The sound of a muffled choke spilled over the phone and someone dropped a glass object in the background.
"Dammit, Adrien, you'd better replace that glass." Nino yelled away from the phone. A moment later he cleared his throat and addressed the girls again. "Yeah, I—uh I think I can try to arrange that."
"In the meantime, I'd like someone to refresh my self defense and teach me hand-to-hand."
"I'll do it," volunteered a somewhat strained and throaty sounding voice in the background, a little too eagerly.
"Dude, shut up." Nino hissed. "I can sign you up for a class down at the police station. Or I can teach you myself if it makes you more comfortable."
"I'm free on Saturday afternoons," said Marinette, sounding a little more resolved.
"What about..." Nino began.
"I'll look after her extra little detail," Alya cut in.
"Ok, then. We can start this Saturday if you'd like."
The conversation didn't drag on much longer after that. After hammering out the details, Alya hung up the phone and tilted her head down to Marinette.
"So, does this mean..."
"Yeah." Marinette closed her eyes and sucked in a hard breath. "I'll give him a second chance."
"Are you going to tell him about Isabelle?"
She expelled the breath through her nose. "I don't know yet. One step at a time."
0000
Adrien paced nervously in the hall.
Maybe this wasn't such a great idea.
He pulled his phone out and checked the time, then checked his messages. Pocketing the device again, he spared a look at the humble bouquet of roses in the death grip of his left hand
His mind wandered back to Marinette's self-defense class with Nino a few days ago.
It had been the first session, and Adrien had hesitantly tagged along because he had to stay where Nino could keep tabs on him. What a beautiful mess that had turned into.
He'd spent the first half of the class waiting in the hall outside of the training room at the police department watching Nino teach Marinette different self-defense maneuvers. He thought he'd kept the longing hidden from his expression, but the passing officers started to give him odd looks after about twenty minutes. Perhaps they had recognized him? They couldn't possibly have seen his tracking anklet, hidden by a baggy pant-leg.
Maybe if he hid his face? But it didn't alleviate any of the scrutiny when he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. If anything, it made the amount of attention he received grow.
Halfway through the session, he'd snuck into the training room and attempted to sit on a chair against the wall.
That was when things had gotten messy.
She'd known he was in the building. He'd seen her reaction to his presence, the way she had fidgeted and looked around when she'd first shown up for the class. But being in the same room, it was as if he were a vacuum sucking up all her attention.
He'd caught her eye and she'd looked away, blushing like a virgin.
Adrien had watched them continue the lesson, but it had soon become clear Marinette wasn't giving it her full attention anymore. They'd continued to catch stares throughout the rest of the lesson, much to Nino's annoyance.
Even when he'd tried to focus on his cell phone and stop himself from watching them, he could feel her stare, tempting him to watch her shamelessly through his peripheral. And damn if she hadn't been making his blood rush and his heart sing. He'd had a feeling there was color staining his own cheeks.
Ten more distracted minutes passed before Nino had finally given up.
"That's enough," Nino had said after Marinette's third failed block left her lying on the mat. "We're done here."
"What? Why?" Marinette had scrambled to her feet, confusion etched across her features as she'd glanced at the clock on the wall. "We still have fifteen more minutes."
"And you're not paying attention," Nino had snapped, frowning at his pupil. "Which, actually, I want Adrien here from now on — you need to learn to focus, Marinette. You have too much riding on this to fail."
Marinette had flinched, leaving Adrien to wonder at the motion. Nino's features had softened as he blew out a gusty sigh.
"Look," he'd said, relaxing, "you're distracted and I understand it. But we're going to have to learn to work past it. That's all. We're about done for the day, and I'm tired and worn out, so if you guys are just gonna make out across the room with your eyes, I'm getting a coffee."
"Wh-What? I'm not, we weren't!" Marinette had sputtered out, her freckles becoming lost in a brilliant wash of crimson.
Nino had given her a wry smirk, brow shooting up above his glasses. "Uh-huh."
She'd puffed out her cheeks indignantly, casting a heated look at the padded mat on the floor.
Nino had leaned in to whisper something that Adrien had not been able to hear, but it'd clearly sent Marinette into a tizzy.
The agent had left them alone after that, exiting the training room through the side door.
Adrien hadn't been sure what Nino said, or if it even had anything to do with what he'd said to Marinette, but three minutes later she'd approached him, eyes glued to the floor and skin glowing like a radioactive tomato.
"Do you—uh—want to-to get coffee with me?"
Adrien had felt his chest compress painfully, throat tightening.
"I—yes," he'd wheezed out.
Back to the present, Adrien stared nervously at the number on her apartment door.
You're not asking her on a date, you're just stopping by to see her after work. ...and give her eight roses, and a pair of earrings. Adrien swallowed nervously. No, not the earrings. Wait on the earrings. That's too much.
He briefly pondered where all his Chat Noir confidence had evaporated to in the past two years, and how it got replaced with this nervous wreck.
Adrien steeled himself and, raising a hand, he knocked against her door.
The sound of shuffling inside her apartment caused his insides to squirm in anticipation.
When the door opened, the person behind it was not who he expected. A male with a dark, round face and familiar green eyes greeted him.
"Plagg?"
"Well, well, well," a smug grin crossed Plagg's face. "Look who it is. I'd heard you got out of prison."
"What are you doing... here?" Adrien's brow immediately furrowed in confusion.
Something moved about level with Plagg's knee and Adrien glanced down to find a tiny hand grabbing the edge of the door and another pair of green eyes peering up at him. These eyes were wide, curious, and bright like spring grass.
"Hi," said a small voice.
Adrien blinked several times.
"I'm babysitting," Plagg explained, opening the door the rest of the way. He nodded an invitation, then bent and picked up the baby that was clinging to his pant-leg.
No longer obscured by Plagg's leg, Adrien got his first good look at the baby. He came to the assumption that she was older than a year; Adrien had worked with some children on shoots before, but wasn't familiar enough with them to accurately guess. But she already had an unruly mop of delicate blonde hair, and a smattering of fine freckles across her button nose and rosy cheeks.
"You coming inside or not?" Plagg asked over his shoulder, disappearing from the entry and into the living room.
As if suddenly remembering he had legs, Adrien lurched forward with wooden movements, shutting the door behind himself. He placed the bouquet of roses on the stand with the house phone, next to the bowl for Marinette's keys.
Inside the apartment, he noted it was messier than he remembered with a myriad of toys scattered across the carpet and a sippy cup lying on its side on the couch. He recognized Marinette's lumpy, old ottoman, looking even more worse for wear than the last time he'd seen it.
Plagg placed the little girl on the floor and stood in the middle of the room looking at Adrien as if he expected him to say something.
The child got up and toddled across the floor towards Adrien, her curious eyes sparkling. His muscles tensed involuntarily when she latched onto his leg for balance and looked up at him.
"Whose kid is this?" Adrien finally forced out the words. He couldn't help asking, even though he had a sinking feeling that it was Marinette's. And if it was Marinette's that meant she'd... with someone...
"Oh," Plagg began in an offhand way, "she's mine."
Adrien snapped his eyes to his former partner, brow stitching with skepticism. "She's blonde, and pale as milk." He made a show of looking Plagg over, pointedly staring at his dark skin and oily black hair.
"And you're being purposefully obtuse," Plagg snipped.
He snapped his eyes back to the child hugging his leg.
"She's not a monster, Adrien. Pick her up."
As if someone had replaced his skeleton with robot parts, he bent and picked the toddler off the floor. A hand under each of her arms, he lifted her to eye level.
"Hi," she greeted him again in a small but high voice.
"Hello..?" Adrien returned, studying her with equally wide eyes. He felt his insides twist, as the surreal feeling gave way to hesitant comprehension. "Is she..."
The front door suddenly opened, and if it weren't for his excellent reflexes, Adrien would've dropped the child. He spun around to face the newcomer in the apartment, and froze with an expression akin to a deer in the headlamps.
"I'm home," Marinette sang, dropping her keys in the bowl next to the roses and raising her eyes just as she started to kick off her heels.
Adrien watched her stop dead in her tracks, the color draining from her face when she locked eyes with him. Feeling like an alien parasite, his heart lurched and crawled up his throat.
It was agony to swallow.
For an eternity they stared at each other.
"Mama!" the toddler suddenly cried and started squirming in his grip. Finally, Adrien moved, breaking eye contact to place the child on the floor, and watched her toddle towards Marinette on stubby, little legs.
Well that confirmed one of his suspicions.
"You have a kid," he stated, feeling as if someone had force-fed him the Sahara .
As if the toddler colliding with her legs broke the spell that had befallen her, Marinette inhaled and bent, scooping her kid off the floor. She placed a kiss on her cheek, and smiled to reassure the excited child that everything was alright.
Adrien stayed rooted in place when she finished kicking off her shoes and moved to join them in the living room. He chanced a glance at Plagg who was strangely quiet. The man simply watched them both with an enigmatic expression.
"Is that a problem?" She asked, her voice holding an unusual chill.
"No!" Adrien asserted, "not at all. She's... ahh, she's adorable." His fingers scratched nervously at the nape of his neck.
As fickle as a cat, the toddler began squirming again, twisting around in Marinette's arms with her hands outstretched for her toys. Once more she was placed on the floor, this time crawling over the carpet to pick up a vibrantly colored dinosaur.
Adrien chose to fix his attention on the happy child rather than brave the severity of Marinette's gaze.
"How old is she?"
Marinette hugged her arms to her chest and turned her eyes to the toddler who was making her way back to Adrien with a bright blue t-rex. "She's nineteen months."
Adrien mulled over some calculations in his head, and pressed his mouth into a tight line.
"Hi," the little girl gushed again, grinning with little, white teeth.
He looked down to find her holding the dinosaur up.
A second of hesitation and Adrien dropped to his knees casting, a wary look at Marinette in case she started to protest. When she only watched him with an unreadable expression, he turned his attention back to the toddler.
"Hi," he greeted again with an equally white smile. "Is this for me?"
She pushed the blue dinosaur into his hand, her already wide grin getting bigger before she suddenly made a "pffffffsshhhh!" noise and bashfully ran away.
Adrien was left blinking curiously.
She didn't leave him hanging for long, returning a moment later with a red block and holding that out to him as well.
"Thank you," he accepted the block and turned it over in his hand. "What's your name?"
Once more, the little girl erupted into bashfulness and ran off, scooping a stuffed animal off the floor next. She toddled back up to him, this time proudly presenting him a fuzzy, black cat stuffy.
It was like someone hit him over the head with a hammer and Adrien sat back on his feet. He stared dazedly at the black cat, noting the oversized bell hanging off it's neck.
"Kitty!" She told him emphatically, pushing the animal into his already occupied hands.
"Yeah..." Adrien licked his chapped lips. He placed the dinosaur and the block in his lap to hold the cat stuffy, his thumbs running over the embroidered green eyes.
"Her name is Isabelle."
He tilted his head up to meet Marinette's eyes.
Isabelle, his mind slowly processed the name. Is-a-belle. Blood rushed in his ears and his heart began using his lungs for punching bags. His face may have been frozen, but his mind curled into a cattish grin.
His hands hit his lap like someone had filled them with lead.
"Is..." he started, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Is she mine?" He finally voiced the question that had been growing ever stronger in the back of his mind.
For a moment, Marinette studied him with searching eyes. He watched her bite the inside of her cheek as if she were having an internal debate about whether or not to answer him.
Hope dared to fester in his frantically hammering heart.
Another minute passed and Marinette's eyes became glassy. She hugged her arms tighter and nodded.
Yes.
Muscles in his back that he didn't even know were tensed suddenly released.
I have a daughter.
Adrien turned his stare back to the little girl who had gotten bored of him and had wandered over to Plagg for attention.
I have a daughter...
Her blonde hair and bright green eyes were another punch to his lungs.
Why didn't anyone tell him?
Hah! Because you're a criminal and you spent the last two years in prison. What kind of father would you have been? Memories of his own neglectful father permeated his mind.
Father. The same man who'd ordered the attack on Marinette those years ago.
"This is why I shouldn't be here," he blurted out. His insides recoiled with the sudden realization. "I'm putting her in danger."
Adrien surged to his feet, but staggered when dizziness hit him.
"Wait!"
Her voice seized him, but he didn't look at her.
"Please don't go."
Adrien lifted his head.
Marinette continued and the expression on her face startled him. It was imploring. "Please stay, Chat."
Adrien's heart clawed at his throat. He wanted to stay, but staying put Marinette's daughter—HIS daughter—in even more danger. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat; some desperate cross of 'I can't stay' and 'I'll never leave you again' that only resulted in a breathy whine as conflicting desires warred for dominance.
The sound of a throat clearing had both his and Marinette's head whipping around to where Plagg stood off to the side, looking vaguely amused. "As fascinating as this conversation promises to be, I don't think I have a place in it. Marinette, same time tomorrow?"
"Oh. Um, yes," Marinette replied blinking owlishly as Félix nodded genially to Adrien.
"Hold up, Plagg." Adrien placed a hand on his shoulder before the older man could escape. "We need to talk—about this," he gestured around the apartment before ending on Isabelle, "and some other things. What number can I reach you?"
"Plagg?"
"And get me roped up with Interpol like you?" Plagg scoffed. "Eww, no."
"I've never mentioned you to Interpol," Adrien defended. "They suspect I had a partner, but relax, you aren't even a blip on their radar. I kept my mouth shut."
"You're his partner!?" Marinette screeched at Félix.
Both men turned to blink at her; Adrien with surprise and Plagg with a slow cat-like deliberateness.
"You didn't know?" Adrien finally asked.
Marinette staggered back to the couch and collapsed on it.
"Well the cat's out of the bag," said Plagg. "I think it's time I make my get away." He slipped out the door after dropping a kiss atop Isabelle's head.
Adrien eyed the door as well, gaze darting between it and the overwhelmed Marinette on the couch. "I should go too," he reminded her.
"Chat," Her use of his alias held him in place.
He stayed silent, watching Marinette for a moment before turning his attention to Isabelle.
"I shouldn't," Adrien said at last, unable to tear his eyes from the tiny child as she tried to climb the couch, tiny limbs stretching to reach the necessary height. "I'm putting her in danger. If not now, then eventually."
"Yes," Marinette agreed softly, sounding heartbroken. "Even if your father isn't watching you now, he will be soon. If he finds out..."
"She'll be an easy target," Adrien said flatly. "The perfect leverage to use against me. Against us."
"Yes." Marinette blinked back tears, biting her lip. "But... But, not...quite yet. He's not watching you now, tonight. And...the secret's out. You can't unknow what you know. So...will you stay? Just for a little while? I can make some coffee, you can eat dinner here with us."
"Why the change of heart?" Adrien asked, wrenching his gaze from the toddler to fasten it on Marinette. "I would have thought you'd want me to have nothing to do with her."
"I've wanted to tell you about her for so long, Chat," she said, sobering up from her previous shock and sitting forward. "But I had to be sure."
"Sure?" He cocked his head at her and took a seat on the arm of the couch.
She clasped her hands together, watching her daughter rather than looking at him. "I needed to be sure about you. I... if you ever came back, I wanted you to come back because you wanted to. ...because you love me. Not because you felt obligated, or guilty."
His stomach curled in pain. "Mari-"
Marinette cut him off and pressed on. "She's well cared for, and we want for nothing. She doesn't need a father in her life if he only sees her as an obligation." Her knuckles turned white from the tight grip of her hands. "When I learned your father still posed a threat... it complicated things even more. But, you know now and the best we can do is work together to keep her safe."
Adrien got up from the arm of the couch and moved to kneel before Marinette. He reached out and took her trembling hands in his own, massaging her stressed knuckles.
"Mon Amour, I want to be a part of this family. I want this. I want all of this, if you'll let me."
Marinette suddenly let out a choked sob and he saw the tears start streaming down her cheeks when she lifted her face to meet his eyes. Her lip trembled, and the urge to kiss away all those tears nearly overwhelmed him.
"I love you, Chat."
The clink of plastic toys clashing against each other and the patter of toddler feet on carpeted floors acted as the background music to the moment.
"I have always loved you, Purrincess." He replied, rolling the r's the way he used to years ago.
Adrien released her hands, reaching up and pulling her chin toward him with two fingers. His mouth closed over hers, pressing a tender kiss to her lips and Marinette made a pleased little sound against him.
Much like she had the first time he'd kissed her, Marinette melted into him. Her arms came up to slide around his neck eagerly. Adrien responded with a rough growl and hungrily took the kiss deeper. He could no more temper his instant, fiery response to her than he could voluntarily stop the frantic hammering of his heart.
Adrien hadn't planned for this when he came to her apartment tonight—but then his plans never seemed to turn out the way he intended where she was concerned. She had a knack for derailing all his best laid plans and rending his good intentions to dust.
Something in the back of his mind noted that the couch had depressed oddly, but then he forgot to think at all because she was warm and responsive and he had wanted to kiss her like this for a long, long time.
A sudden, tiny, sticky hand shoved into the side of Adrien's face, breaking the kiss, and he turned to blink startlingly at a toddler.
"Mine!" Isabelle declared, jealously pressing in to kiss her mother's lips.
Marinette's own surprise soon melted into amusement as she placed a peck on her daughter's mouth. "Mmm, yes yours," she hummed with a smile. "Sorry, Chat, it seems I've already been spoken for."
"Drat," he chuckled, sitting back on his feet and putting some space between them.
She pulled the needy toddler into her lap and turned her to face Adrien. "Isa, this is your Papa."
Adrien felt his heart seize. Papa. He rather liked the sound of that. So much warmer than Father.
The little girl blinked at him, not quite comprehending the significance of the word. But she took a swipe at Adrien's nose and giggled.
He caught her tiny hand in his much larger one and placed a dramatic kiss on the back of it. "It's a purrleasure to meet you, Little Bell."
Special thanks to all the people who helped me write this fanfic: Edhelwen, Saoirse Ilysi, Manny, Yamina, Fairia, and Zack. And also to the temp editor who stepped in at the last minute to edit this chapter, Jattendschaton.
Thank you to my late mother who loved this story, and encouraged me to write it. I wish you coulda seen it finished.
Lastly I thank, Kay Hooper, for writing such wonderful Thief novels. You were a huge inspiration.
I adore her books, Once and Thief and Always a Thief. And to all my readers out there, I implore you, please give her novels a read. They are amazing, you wont be disappointed.