"Where were you?"
Nino rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, trying to focus his fuzzy gaze on his girlfriend's scowling face.
"Alya, this is a really bad time–"
"You think so? It's one thirty in the morning, and you told me you'd be back no later than midnight. Where. Were. You."
"Look, something came up."
"Well, what was it? And what kept you from shooting me a quick text about it? Nino, I was worried."
His mind was blank. He had no lie at hand, had not prepared one, his thoughts occupied with other matters. So he chose the only move available to him – deflection. "Well, now you know how it feels."
When Alya's face grew enraged, he knew he'd said the wrong thing. He wanted to take the words and stuff them back in his mouth, because he couldn't do anything right tonight, but it was too late. She turned on her heels and strode to their bedroom.
He followed, because what choice did he have?
She grabbed a backpack and started yanking clothes out of her closet at random, stuffing them inside. Alarm bells started ringing in his head. No. Air raid sirens.
"Babe…?"
"Don't. Don't you dare 'babe' me right now. Do you think I'm stupid?!" She whirled around, red curls whipping, and stared at him with accusing eyes. "Do you think I don't recognize the signs? The lies, the change in habits, the unexplained absences? Did you think I wouldn't notice the change in physique? What, she's good enough to work out for but I'm not? God, you're such a cliché. And so am I, to have closed my eyes and pretended not to see your affair."
"I'm not – I'm not having a fucking affair, Alya!"
Her voice grew perfectly level. "Is that so? Well, then you should be able to tell me where you were just now, and what you were doing."
He stammered, and she looked at him in contempt.
Within five minutes his girlfriend had left the apartment, and Nino wanted nothing more than to chase after her. But he couldn't, because Wayzz was wordlessly staring at him, and he had a duty to fulfill before sunrise.
Marinette snuck in through the backdoor of her parents' bakery. She was used to sneaking in, had gotten good at identifying the spots she couldn't step on because they creaked. exhausted to the very core of her being, she silently made her way up to her room in the attic.
The memory of the horrifying black vapor crawling up her partner kept playing in her mind. She shouldn't have taken Nino, should have talked to Chat Noir alone. But would he have come if only Ladybug had called?
Not that Nino would have let her face him alone.
"Look, I'm still not sure about this, but we take this risk as a team, okay? I'm not letting only you expose yourself. We're in this together."
"Okay. But you have to promise to let me do the talking."
She just wanted to lie down in her bed. Forget the world. Slip into oblivion for a little bit and dream of Chat Noir when he'd been a carefree, ridiculous boy instead of whatever it was he'd become.
"Ma…ri…nette."
She froze.
Green eyes were glowing in the darkness, the syllables of her name painstakingly pieced together by a throat that wasn't very good at making human sounds. The shadow of a beast obscured the human form beneath, a black churning haze winding around his body.
He'd found her.
Ladybug wasn't in costume, her strength only a fraction of what it should be, and Tikki as exhausted as she was. He had found her and she didn't stand a chance.
Chat Noir lunged.
And she fought.
She kicked and bit and hit him with all her considerable strength, which was enough to knock ordinary men on their ass, but Chat Noir was no ordinary man. He had her pinned, and she writhed against his hold. His mouth descended on her neck, those fangs about to tear her apart–
He licked her.
"Don't fear." More licks, gentle, slow, grooming. "Won't hurt. Just me."
"Chat," she whispered, and he purred, his big body collapsing, rubbing up against her. A normal woman might have been crushed under his weight, but to her it felt pleasant. Like a very heavy blanket pressing down on her.
They lay like that for a very long time, with Chat Noir squeezing her close and his nose buried in her neck, breathing deeply.
"Marinette," he said again, and his voice was almost human. "You smell like my meadow."
"Thanks…?" How had he found her? Had he followed her scent? But the glamor was supposed to confound all senses. But then, he'd clearly unlocked some new powers that were potentially stronger than her glamor.
"I love you," he whispered, and her heart constricted. "I love you so much, Marinette. You are the best thing that ever happened to me."
How? How did any of this make sense? An hour or two ago – she couldn't even keep track anymore, she was so tired – he'd glared at her with hatred in eyes.
"Chaton…" she said, but he snarled, and she flinched.
"Don't call me that."
"Why not?"
"Only she calls me that."
"Who?"
"Ladybug," he hissed, and a shudder went through his body, his speech deteriorating. "Not important. You are important. Ma-ri-nette. My Marinette." He kept murmuring her name, and the bestial edge to his voice ebbed.
She didn't understand what was happening. Didn't he know…?
Okay. Think this through.
He kept calling her Marinette, not Ladybug. So, maybe he hadn't discovered her secret. Maybe he was here for her alter ego. In which case – did Marinette know Chat's real identity?
"Who are you?" she whispered, and he stilled.
Then his weight was suddenly off her, and she was left feeling almost bereft. She sat up, and Chat Noir was looking at her, crouched low, balanced on the tip of his toes. His face – what she could see of it beneath the coiling black aura – was… better, but still not entirely human. His lips were slightly parted, revealing canines that were far too big.
"You don't recognize me."
"I'm sorry," she said, because he sounded hurt and she didn't know what else to say.
He laughed. It was bitter, the sound grating. "I know. Not very handsome like this, am I? Do I disgust you, Marinette?"
"No." Her answer was honest. He frightened and saddened her, but never had she ever been disgusted by her partner.
"I had an awful day," he said. "Can I hug you? I want…"
She wrapped her arms around him.
"Sweet Marinette," he whispered. "You deserve someone so much better. But I'm greedy and selfish, so I'll take you all for myself. They'll have to pry you from my claws."
She should know this man. He was so familiar with her, she had to know him. While her brain tried to make the pieces fit together, Chat Noir's claws were gently running through her hair.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I can't recognize you." His glamor was monstrously powerful, maybe because right now he was, too. Her head was spinning with the effort to push against it, but it was like trying to wade through muck. But it was there, deep in her gut, so close, I know this man, but the problem was that she did know him. As Chat Noir. And her kitty, her Chaton, was all she could see.
"Let's start over," he murmured. "Hello, Marinette. My name is Adrien."
No.
No no no no.
Had she said that out loud? She must have because Chat Noir squirmed out of her embrace, his head hung low. "I'm sorry."
Marinette just stared at his face. His face. That was Adrien's face, even if it looked a little alien with his teeth way too big.
"I scared you. I'm sorry. I'll go." He shuddered, turning his head away. "Ah… or… can I stay? You don't have to touch. Or look. I'll pick a corner. Can't be alone right now. Your room is calming."
She took his hand. He returned her gentle squeeze, let her pull him to his feet as she stood up. He stumbled, not seeming able to balance on two legs, so she let go and he dropped down. Her fingertips brushed his hair, and she beckoned him to follow.
Which he did, keeping a respectful distance, seeming careful to not knock over any of her flower pots. When she sat down on her bed, he gave her a searching look.
"Adrien, come to me."
His face lit up and he eagerly jumped up to join her. Somehow the way he moved looked graceful, even though it was on all fours. But Chat Noir had always been graceful. By all rights, his body language should have looked ridiculous.
Adrien also had an otherworldly grace. Even when he was a hungover mess, he still managed to be elegant. It had to be bleeding over from his other half.
Or maybe those were just her rose colored glasses playing tricks on her.
Of course it was him. Who else could it have ever been?
Kind, gentle Adrien who loved stupid puns and bad pick-up lines.
He pressed his forehead against her shoulder. His tail twitched happily, and then he curled up beside her, seeming content just to be close.
Ridiculous Adrien, a man who really enjoyed licking her, and had no sense of personal space.
You're just an overgrown cat, aren't you?
A purr answered her as she ran her fingers through his unruly blond hair, scratching him behind his twitching ears.
He was asleep within minutes.
Overly attached Adrien, who had once been madly in love with a girl who didn't love him back.
That mystery woman's loss had been Marinette's gain, even though she'd never understood it. What kind of fool would throw a treasure like Adrien away?
Me. I did that. I'm the one who broke Chat Noir's heart.
"Ugh."
Reality came back into existence shard by shard, sharp edges grinding against him. Or maybe that was him, being torn from his ring and reassembled in painful slow motion. Never again.
"Damn you, Adrien," Plagg whispered. He wanted to scream it, let loose this rage – or was it still Adrien's rage? – but even that seemed beyond him now. He was so tired. Adrien had drained him of everything, reaching so deep into his essence that Plagg had not been able to tell where his thoughts ended, and Adrien's began.
"Leave me out of your abandonment issues."
Plagg flopped over on the pillow, getting a full view of Adrien's face burrowed in Marinette's hair, both asleep. Finally. He peered at the girl, a faint echo of Adrien's feelings for her running through him, and he shuddered.
He'd always considered her more of a game. Something shiny that made Adrien happy, to tide him over until he finally came to his senses and returned to his Ladybug. But that feeling…
That was what Plagg felt for Tikki.
Which meant this was going to be one of those lifetimes where the Black Cat did not choose his other half. Well. Of course. Adrien just couldn't make anything easy on him, could he? Stupid kitten.
He supposed he could work with that. The partners were not always lovers, after all, even if love was always there in some form. Sometimes they were more like siblings, or, when there was a great age gap, parent and child. But the same age range and with physical attraction in the mix? Rarely did they resist that.
Still, Marinette had calmed Adrien's rage, which made her useful. For that brief yet eternal hour when Destruction had threatened to consume Adrien, Plagg – the small, self-aware part of him that had still existed then – had known fear. But then his kitten had turned it around and chosen to resist. To seek out help. Relief.
So everything would be fine, and now Marinette could take over this burdensome nurturing. Plagg was officially delegating, and returning to his roots – sassing and eating cheese.
It would suck, though. Not getting to live in the same household as Tikki for as long as Adrien lived.
"Plagg."
He froze. Turned around with effort.
And there she was. His love, Creation, in all her splendid glory.
…which meant he'd been surrounded by idiots.
"These two are so dumb."
"I know," Tikki said mournfully.
Adrien woke.
He didn't know how long he'd been asleep, only that he was surrounded by warmth and his favorite scent and a body pressed against his. Inhaling deeply, he savored her, and then his mouth was on her skin.
She stirred from her sleep with a soft moan, and he drew her hips to his. Mine.
"Marinette," he whispered. "Do you still love me?"
"I don't think I've ever loved you more."
He made a guttural sound because how could she say that? "I'm not a good person." His claws were shredding her clothes, tearing apart delicate silk so he could have access. He'd buy her new ones. "I'm my father's son."
"Not true."
If he didn't bury himself inside her right this second, he would die.
But when he tried, she gently pushed against his shoulders. He drew back, wide-eyed. Well. Of course not, how could she want him after what she'd just seen?
"Chat," she whispered, her fingertips brushing his jaw to nudge him to face her again. "Adrien. We haven't yet – Are you sure you want this?"
He growled. "Do you?"
"Always."
"After everything?"
"Always." She swallowed heavily. "But you're not thinking clearly."
"Clear enough to want you. Say you want me, too."
"I want you, too," she whispered, her arms wrapping around his waist.
"You didn't see my rage." His hips fit perfectly with hers.
"But I see you now, Chat Noir." She cried out, back arching. Yes. More of this.
"Do you? I'm–"
She bit his lips to shut him up. He snarled, the sharp stab of pain spurring him on further.
"You're a hero." Her fingers were digging into his backside, forcing him closer. His Marinette was strong. So magnificent. Chasing her was the best decision he'd ever made.
"Not quite human," he whispered. "Something's wrong with–"
"I like cats," she said, managing to sound coy and sweet while he pawed at her like the beast he was. "My boyfriend has one and it's so sweet. It makes me want one of my own."
A strangled noise escaped his throat as he lost himself inside of her.
Marinette kept whispering sweet nothings in his ear, that she loved him, adored him, that this changed nothing and everything.
The first time, Marinette had woken just in time to see a black kwami hovering near, so exhausted he'd needed Tikki to hold him up in the air. Her kwami had given her a significant look that Marinette had interpreted as 'I'll handle this', and they had floated off in the direction of the kitchen, presumably to build Chat Noir's kwami's strength back up.
Before she'd had time to ponder this further, Adrien had pulled her to him, urgently whispering in her ear.
And fallen asleep again afterward.
Only to wake up in a similarly desperate state a little while later, always reaching for her like a drowning man grasped for a lifeline.
The sun was filtering in through the window, and they were on number five now. Or was it four? Either way, this time Adrien was gentle, trailing soft kisses along her belly as he moaned the same questions he returned to every time. Her answers stayed the same.
You're not like your father.
I don't think less of you for being Chat Noir.
Adrien, I still love you.
He trembled at the last one, he always did, and his groans took on a desperate edge, his hips bucking against her.
Tears pricked her eyes. She hid them by burying her face in his hair. He needed this. It was so horribly obvious that he needed someone to tell him these things, so Marinette did.
It was just…
She was certain that when he found out who she was, he would never look at her again.
So Marinette said nothing of her secret, told him how much she loved him, and meant every word.
Because the day Adrien found out she was Ladybug was the day she would shatter his heart, and she wasn't sure the world was going to survive it.
It had to be Alya.
She was daring and fearless, able to stare down evil and laugh at it. More than that, she was smart and resourceful, and he had the feeling she would be a great tactician and detective. Officially adding her capacity for research to the team might help them finally track down this fiery source of trouble, which so far, they'd done a pretty shit job of.
So it had to be Alya.
Except it couldn't be Alya.
Because no matter how many of his girlfriend's virtues he could list, he knew, in his heart, he wanted to pick her because he wanted to stop lying to her. Take her into the team just so she'd stop thinking he was cheating, mend this rift in their relationship before it grew worse.
Picking Alya would be a fundamentally selfish decision, and he was on thin ice. Wayzz had made it clear he had to choose wisely, and somehow Nino didn't think that him choosing his girlfriend for convenience's sake would count as that.
Not to mention that, no matter how much he loved her and admired her, he saw qualities in her that disqualified her from consideration. For one, she was far more temperamental and opinionated than he was. He had bristled at Chat Noir's treatment of Ladybug, but Alya would have gone nuclear on the guy if he so much as hinted at mistreating her best friend. Adding her to the conflict with Chat Noir would be tossing gasoline onto smoldering embers. Violently unstable embers.
And while she was brave, the way she ran headlong into danger to chase a story bordered on reckless.
So it couldn't be Alya.
Because someone else was far better suited.
Someone kind, someone selfless, who ran into danger to get everyone to safety and had done that even when they were still children. Who would smoothly fit into the team, or at least with him and Marinette.
Now he just needed to pick the right Miraculous.
The butterfly was out, for obvious reasons.
So that left him with the choice between the bee and the fox, and that really was no contest at all. Foxes were mischievous yet determined hunters. Wayzz had said that the kwami embodying them had a strong preference for beautiful and clever wielders, turning them into illusionists.
The Fox was the counterpart to the Turtle, Deception's lies endlessly frustrating Wisdom.
Everything just fit. All of it.
"Wayzz," he said, and the kwami opened his eyes, returning from his deep meditation. "I've Chosen."
There was one obstacle, and that was, once again, Chat Noir, and how well their new teammate would be able to handle working so close to him.
"I'm going to give the Fox Miraculous to Adrien Agreste."
Marinette, who had asked for her own reasons, had already determined that Adrien held no grudge against the heroes' role in his father's death. But even if there was residual anger, Adrien was good at keeping up appearances and staying professional when his job called for it. He'd be firm in protecting Marinette from Chat's obsession but not as rabidly overprotective as Alya.
And then Adrien would finally step out of his father's shadow. He'd get the chance to live up to his full potential. There was no doubt in Nino's mind that his friend was heroic at heart.
As he nervously laid out all the reasons his best friend would make a great hero, how well he fit the Fox Miraculous, and why any flaws in him were minor obstacles, Wayzz scrutinized Nino with no change in expression. When Nino fell silent because he couldn't think of anything else to say, the kwami slowly unfurled his legs from their resting position.
And smiled.
"What a great choice you've made, Nino. I think it might even rival Master Fu's wisdom."