A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you're having a lovely holiday. I know it's been a while, but I've been working on a little Christmas fic for you, and it's pure fluff. I'm pretty sure you could make marshmallows out of it.

As always, feel free to send me idea suggestions. I'll try to keep a better schedule next year, but we all know what happens to our New Year's resolutions. Nevertheless, I'll do my best. :) Thanks for reading and supporting this fic, as always! May your 2018 be filled with peace, joy, and hope.


Mistletoe: Adrien is spending Christmas with Marinette and her family. Marinette has no idea her parents have orchestrated this. If she knew, she might have objected to the mistletoe her parents hid throughout the house.


Adrien had begun to dread Christmas.

It was a constant reminder that his mother was gone, and while most of his friends traveled with their families, he was now locked at home with almost nothing to do. This plus the horrible Santa debacle last year had given the holiday somewhat of a shroud of darkness.

Without his mother to brighten the mood, holidays at the Agreste house were sparse. Nobody had decorated; Nathalie was on vacation, Gorilla was too clumsy to handle the fragile crystal ornaments Adrien's father prized, and Adrien himself had been in such a funk that he hadn't really left his room.

He hadn't even seen his father in at least a week. They kept missing each other at mealtimes, both assuming the other had already eaten. They hadn't done anything together since school break had started, as his father was too busy preparing for a trip to Milan for Designer Week that would extend from Christmas Eve through the New Year. Adrien was not attending, thankfully. However, this meant he'd be spending his holiday in Paris without any family, and he wasn't trusted to be in the giant Agreste house alone.

Unfortunately, Chloe was shopping in Prague, Nino was on a ski trip with his parents, and Alya was visiting her grandparents, so Adrien wouldn't be able to stay with them. He'd instead be spending Christmas at Marinette's house. And he was somewhat apprehensive about it. It wasn't that Adrien wasn't excited to spend Christmas with Marinette. It wasn't that at all. It came down to three things.

First, it just wasn't home.

Second, on the midnight of Christmas Eve, Chat Noir and Ladybug were planning to deliver gifts to a local children's hospital. They'd done it last year in secret, their anonymous way of helping out Santa after the akuma disaster. And this year, they'd decided to meet at the hospital and do it again. If Adrien was staying with the Dupain-Chengs, he was very worried about how he was going to sneak out without them noticing and blowing his secret.

Finally, something about Marinette made him rather nervous in a way he couldn't explain. It was beyond the normal fear of her discovering he was Chat Noir. It was more like a strange ache, as if he missed her even when they were together.

Adrien still hadn't come to terms with what it could mean, and there wasn't really anyone he could broach the matter with. Not even Plagg. His kwami proved unhelpful in most relationship matters, often comparing girls to cheeses in some complex metaphor Adrien didn't really understand.

He also considered discussing the matter with his father, right up until the ride to the airport on the evening of the twenty-fourth, but every scenario in his mind involved his father whipping off his sunglasses, turning around in his leather seat, and giving Adrien "The Look". The "Adrien, please" look. The look when his father was busy, or on the phone, or generally irritable. So, in other words, it was his only facial expression.

As the car glided to the airport in silence, Adrien thought back to the untainted Christmas celebrations of the past, before his father had become this ice cold workaholic. Before, when Adrien's mother had still been with them, they went ice skating in the park. They made cocoa with tiny marshmallows, decorated a gigantic tree in the living room, and invited family from the south to stay with them. His mother's loud, raucous relatives from Montpellier filled the mansion with yelling and laughter and running footsteps that Adrien and his father could never match now that it was just the two of them. He imagined his cousin Felix would be shocked to see what changes had come in the past two years. Adrien wasn't even sure he'd have recognized himself; a secret superhero, a lonely model, a depressed teenager, a Christmas-dreading humbug.

He waved to his father when they pulled up to the passenger drop-off, and neither of them said a word. There was a brief exchange of curt nods, and then Mr. Agreste disappeared behind the glossy sliding doors. No one said "Merry Christmas" or even goodbye. Adrien looked up, fighting his stinging eyes as they pulled away in the purring car.

The ride back from the airport was blissfully quiet. Gorilla was driving a little more recklessly now that Mr. Agreste was gone, perhaps because the bodyguard knew it would cheer Adrien up. They swung around curves a little tighter and braked faster, and Adrien couldn't help but enjoy the careening feeling of apparent weightlessness before the seatbelt snapped against his ribs. It was a taste of freedom.

They arrived at Marinette's house before Adrien was emotionally ready. He hadn't prepared himself for what he might expect from their hospitality. Would they make him sing carols? Did they even celebrate Christmas? Would his gifts for them be enough? And then, there was the matter of sneaking out…

Gorilla helped him get his duffel bag out of the trunk, and then got back in the car with a gruff "Merry Christmas, kid." Adrien would be on his own from here on out.

There was no answer when he rang the bell. Adrien supposed they were just closing the bakery, so they might not have heard it ring. He tried again, and this time a shadow appeared behind the shaded glass door. It swung open to reveal Marinette, who was in a Santa Hat and her apron, holding a vase full of poinsettias. She had a dusting of flour across her right cheek, and her hair was in messy pigtails.

She was looking behind her, yelling, "Maman, are we expecting someone?"

Then, she whipped her head back to see him standing there, and her face turned from curiosity to shock. The vase dropped from her hand and shattered onto the tile floor.


In the hour that followed, it became apparent to Adrien that Marinette's parents were a bit stranger than he'd originally thought. It seemed they hadn't told Marinette he would be staying with them. As they cleaned up the broken glass and rescued the soggy poinsettias, they played it off as though they'd forgotten to tell her, but Adrien wasn't so sure. They didn't seem all that sorry. Given how nervous Marinette was acting, perhaps they hadn't told her for a reason, although he couldn't imagine what it could be.

He was shown to a small, windowless guest bedroom they'd prepared for him down the hall from Marinette's room. There was a little basket full of soap and towels, a few fashion magazines on the bedside table, and freshly pressed sheets. He left his bags and turned to leave. But, on his way out of the room, he noticed a little sprig of mistletoe pinned atop the doorjamb. Adrien frowned, perplexed. Hopefully that bit was just a joke. They surely didn't plan to make him and Marinette kiss, did they? Not that the thought of kissing her was altogether unpleasant. He actually might enjoy it if it ever happened...it was just, well, he hadn't really signed up for that.

Feeling a little more uncomfortable, he descended the spiral stairs to find everyone gathered in the small living room around a three foot tall tree bedecked with gold tinsel and tiny croissant ornaments. Marinette was sitting on one of the sofas. She had washed the flour off her cheek, and there was a small bandage on her ankle from where the shards of the vase had nicked it. Although she kept the Santa hat on, the apron had been removed, and she was tugging at her green sweater as if worried it was the wrong thing to be wearing. Adrien, however, thought she looked rather nice.

Her parents sat together on the other sofa, so Adrien sat beside Marinette, suddenly aware of everyone looking at him.

"Thanks for letting me stay with you," he said. "I hope I'm not imposing on your Christmas too much."

"Not at all," Mr. Dupain-Cheng reassured him. "It's a pleasure. Right, Marinette?"

She gave a small squeak of agreement and turned very red.

"We even made you a stocking," said Mrs. Dupain-Cheng, and she pulled out a wrapped box seemingly from midair. "We want you to join us as though you're family. From the way Marinette talks about you-"

"-Maman!" Marinette protested.

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng didn't look admonished; she merely smiled and handed Adrien the box without finishing her sentence. Perplexed, Adrien opened it to find a green stocking with Adrien written in loopy calligraphy. Three matching ones were pinned to the mantle in the corner.

For a moment, all the fear and sadness that had been plaguing him melted away. This was the first time he'd been welcomed into a family since his own had collapsed in shambles. He hadn't had this sense of inclusion or belonging in a long time. It almost overwhelmed him, and he blinked too many times before responding.

"Thank you."

The Dupain-Chengs politely ignored the emotion in his voice.

Marinette stood and took the stocking from the box without a word. He watched as she pinned it beside hers, and when she sat back down, she didn't look him in the eye. It looked like she was trying to remember how to breathe.

"Now," continued Marinette's mother, "we don't know if you have any special traditions, but we figured we could have dinner and then sit up on the roof with some cocoa. Is there anything in particular you like to do on Christmas Eve?"

There used to be. He remembered making snow angels outside in the courtyard with Felix and his mom, then running back inside, shedding layers of snow gear until they emerged, red-cheeked and shivering, to drink hot mulled cider. He remembered decorating cookies with his father, getting more frosting on his hands than on the cookies themselves, and how his father hadn't scolded him for making a mess. He remembered his mother and father sharing a moonlight stroll through the park while he lingered behind, scattering "reindeer food" for Santa's steeds. He remembered his mother calling, "Adrien, come look at the snowmen. Doesn't this one look like your dad?"

He remembered his father laughing.

He hoped the pain didn't show on his face as he said, "No, we don't do anything special."

Marinette looked at him sharply, and it was as if her blue eyes saw right through his lie. She seemed to know he couldn't answer with the truth. The memories of past Christmases were still too precious; it would be impossible to retrace the tracks of those traditions without his mother. It was better to guard them for now.

"Well, let's get dinner going, then," announced Mr. Dupain-Cheng. "We hope you're hungry."


Adrien decided midway through dinner that Marinette's family was far more wonderful than he'd originally thought. The mere presence of food seemed to get rid of every ounce of their awkwardness. This was their element. They never had a dull moment in conversation, and there was a warmth exuded that was more than just the light of the fire crackling behind them.

By the time they finished serving the turkey, Marinette started acting more like herself. She and her father argued about the best way to bake bread, and insisted Adrien be the judge, offering samples of two different rolls from the bread basket. Adrien pronounced them equally good, and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng awarded him with an extra scoop of caramelized walnuts from the dish at her end of the table. Jokes were made about Marinette's ridiculous Santa Hat until Adrien found a second one lying on the counter. He put it on in solidarity, and proclaimed, "You shall not insult our fashionable hats, common plebians," with his best Gabriel Agreste impersonation. Soon, everyone was roaring with laughter, Marinette's father even wiping tears from his eyes.

Coming from the stark modeling diets he was used to, this was a feast of epic proportions. And, coming from the silent mansion he was used to, this was a dinner of joyous proportions. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed this hard, or eaten enough, or been so happy. He wondered if Marinette had moments like this every day. He imagined growing up with parents like hers, and he suddenly understood why he admired her so much. Marinette and her parents treated love like it was abundant and meant to be shared.

His father, on the other hand, treated love like something to be sequestered; protected. He couldn't bear to lose anything again, not after losing Adrien's mother.

Adrien knew which one he preferred.

He helped with the dishes whiles Marinette and her mother made hot cocoa in a stovetop pan with real chocolate and cream.

As soon as there was talk of migrating up to the roof to look at the stars, Marinette dropped the stirring spoon and all color left her face.

"I forgot to do something, one second," she cried, and dashed from the room. Her parents exchanged a knowing look.

Adrien busied himself with drying a gravy boat for a few minutes, until he felt comfortable enough to ask, "Where did she go?"

"The only entrance to the roof is through her room," explained Mrs. Dupain-Cheng. "She wants to ah...tidy up first."

Adrien shrugged. "It's not a big deal, really, it's fine if it's messy or whatever-"

"It is to her," said her father. "What you think matters to her more than you probably imagine it does."

"She cares," added her mother, "because she likes y-"

"-I'm back," announced Marinette, who skidded back into the room, very out of breath. There was a brief silence, and based on the expression on her face, she quickly ascertained they'd been talking about her.

Adrien felt his cheeks begin to burn. Did Marinette like him? As more than a friend? Was that what her mother was about to say? It certainly explained why she was so tongue tied around him. It also explained the mistletoe. And why her parents hadn't told her he was coming. They hadn't wanted to make her too nervous before he even arrived. It was a clever plan, if Adrien was correct in his deduction.

Thankfully, the cocoa started to bubble over and served as enough of a distraction that everyone recovered from the uncomfortable pause. Normalcy was restored for the most part, although Adrien was now conscious of every look he shared with Marinette, wondering if he had been ignoring her feelings without even realizing it. He'd always been more focused on her eyes and their pretty blueness, and not what her eyes might have been trying to tell him.

The aching feeling in his chest started up again, and Adrien stated to wonder if maybe it was more than missing her. Maybe he liked her too.


It was windy and cold on the roof, but blankets and cushions had been set up on the chairs, which were positioned around a small open fire pit.

Her parents had been right: only entrance to the roof was through Marinette's trapdoor. To Adrien's dismay, it was the only way he was going to be able to escape tonight to meet Ladybug. He hoped Marinette wasn't a light sleeper.

Clutching mugs of cocoa overflowing with marshmallows, everyone sat around the fire, and Marinette stoked the flames, stirring sparks upward like tiny fireflies. Adrien found it was harder to look her in the eyes now without blushing. He hoped the glow of the fire masked it well enough.

A few errant snowflakes had started to fall around them, and their breaths spiraled out before them in complicated mists. Children cheered on the snow from below as they were ushered home by bundled-up parents. Even in the observant silence of Christmas Eve, Adrien couldn't believe the peace he felt up here. For once, he was aware that the silence didn't need to be filled; it was just an appreciation of everyone's company. It was unlike the pervasive absence of words that pressed upon him at home with his father. He always felt like he had to say something every once in a while to remind his father he was still there. Not so with the Dupain-Chengs.

The tip of his nose was starting to feel icy and numb when Marinette's parents declared themselves too cold to stay any longer. They retreated, with plotting glances, back downstairs to prepare for bed. Marinette and Adrien were left alone on the roof, and he wasn't sure whether or not the change in dynamics was a good thing. Were they supposed to stay? Were they going to talk? Should he wait for her to say something, or should he start conversation first?

He did a quick scan of the area. When his eyes fell on the back of her chair, he knew he had to speak up.

"Marinette, I don't know if you're aware, but there's some mistletoe pinned to the back of your chair."

She turned beet red and rolled her eyes. By now, she was surprisingly coherent; not a stutter in sight. "Ugh, not another one! I noticed some in my room already; I can't believe they put it up here too. My parents are depraved. I'm really sorry about that. They seem to think they can set us up."

Adrien didn't really know what to say. Everything that came to mind was either too soppy or too awkward. Eventually he went with: "Well, they're not exactly wrong. They got us alone up here with mistletoe everywhere. It's romantic with all the snow and the cocoa and the present company."

She flushed so red she matched her Santa hat, but didn't say anything. Instead, she switched off the tiny fire, which shrank into the embers. In that moment, it occurred to Adrien he might have to make the first move. She wasn't going to.

"Whatever your parents are doing...it's working," he clarified. "I do like you, Marinette."

She blinked, and he set his empty cocoa mug down on the floor just for something to do. His hands tingled in the absence of the fire.

"I..." she trailed off, then stood up abruptly, eyes panicked. Her blanket pooled around her ankles. "I have to go."

"Marinette-"

She was already through the trapdoor. Adrien followed, casting off his blanket without a second thought. He'd just massively messed things up. Had he been wrong? Maybe she didn't like him after all?

He climbed back down into her room, shutting the trapdoor behind him. Mistletoe swung cheerfully from the latch, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. Had they put it everywhere?

Her back was to him when he reached the bottom of the ladder. She heard him approach but didn't turn around. Instead, she rambled, "Adrien, I have something early tomorrow and I can't reschedule it and I didn't know you were going to be here so I couldn't cancel it so I have to go to bed now, so could you please leave?"

"L-leave?" he stammered. He wondered if she meant for him to pack his bags. "Your house?"

"My room."

"Oh, um, okay."

And just like that, he found himself in the hallway, her door shut in his face. Mistletoe was strung around her doorjamb like ivy.

"I'm sorry," he said to the door, but there was no answer.

He turned and went back to his room, fully aware of the hateful mistletoe hanging over the entrance in mockery.


At 11:50 that night, he stepped out into the hallway as Chat Noir. It was dark and quiet; he hoped to the heavens that Marinette was asleep. He dreaded making this escape after what had happened between them, but there wasn't another way. He couldn't let down Ladybug. He couldn't let down all those kids.

He had debated for half an hour when he should transform. If he went to the trapdoor as Chat Noir, it was another layer of secrecy, but if she was awake that wouldn't do much good. She'd wonder why Chat Noir was in her house in the first place, and his cover would be as good as blown. However, if he went in as Adrien, if she was awake, she might think he was visiting for a totally different, romantically driven reason, and it would be almost impossible to explain that he wasn't. She might even beat him up if she caught him in there...so he very much wanted to avoid that.

He'd eventually decided to transform before leaving his room. But when he arrived at her door, he had second thoughts.

While he stood in front of it, debating silently and feeling sweat bead on the back of his neck, the unthinkable happened. The door swung open, and Ladybug stood there, holding a toothbrush and toothpaste in one hand, as if she was about to walk to the bathroom.

They both screamed.

Marinette's parents must have been heavy sleepers, because neither one of them so much as stirred. Both Chat and Ladybug stood frozen, waiting to hear footsteps approaching, but none came. They were alone.

"Ladybug?" he hissed, not wanting to risk shouting. His mind was doing backflips trying to reconcile the scenario. What was she doing here? Could she have somehow discovered he was Chat and then decided to meet him here, of all places? But then, how would she know about Marinette's trapdoor entrance from the roof? And, come to think of it -

"Where's Marinette?" he asked, peering over her shoulder at the pink room. All the lamps were on, and the bed was empty.

Ladybug was still frozen, her mouth in a perfect "O".

Chat waved a hand in front of her face, and she didn't even flinch. "Have you gone catatonic?"

That seemed to awaken her somewhat. "This is not the time for puns!" She put her hands to her face, covering her eyes. "Chat, what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same. But you still need to answer my first question. Where is Marinette?"

Ladybug dropped her hands, her expression now troubled. "I...I think you'd better come in. There's no point hiding it now...Marinette...well...she's right here. She's me."

Chat started laughing. He just couldn't help it. It was such a coincidence. This reveal might be the best thing to ever happen to them. He'd left thinking Marinette hated him...but now there was hope. With the barriers of secrecy coming down, their friendship really wasn't that complicated after all. They each knew more about each other than they thought.

Perplexed, Ladybug shut the door and spun to face him again. "Why are you laughing? Where's Adrien? Did we wake him up?"

"Oh, trust me, he's awake now."

Her eyes narrowed, and then she finally made the connection.

"You're...you're him, aren't you." It wasn't a question.

"Claws in," he told Plagg, and that settled it. He was Adrien again.

Ladybug's face slowly turned the color of her suit. He patiently sat down in her desk chair, waiting for her to say something. Anything.

"I'm sorry," she said. "That I freaked out."

"As Marinette, with the vase? Or on the roof? Or just now, as Ladybug, with all the screaming? There's been a lot of freaking out tonight. You might need to be a little more specific."

"On the roof. I just wasn't expecting you to tell me..."

"That I like you?"

"Obviously. I imagined every scenario where I was honest about how I felt, but in all of them, I just assumed you never felt the same way. I didn't know how to handle hearing what my heart wanted to hear. I didn't think it was really happening; I spent months trying to impress you, to tell you the truth, and just never could. And now that you know Ladybug is actually just me...that I'm just so terribly awkward around you...I'm sorry you had to find out I'm not this perfect superhero. I'll understand if you don't feel that way anymore."

Adrien took a deep breath and sighed. "I still feel the same."

She looked almost exasperated now. "Why?"

"Not to change the subject, but are you going to take off your mask?"

"It's easier to talk to you if I have it on. Then I don't stutter." She sat down on the bed, fidgeting with the comforter. Adrien rolled forward in the chair so they were closer.

"So you do have feelings for me? I make you nervous?"

"Yes!"

"Then I'm the one who should be sorry! I had no idea, and if I did, I would have been more considerate. I felt terrible about what happened on the roof; I was worried I'd damaged our friendship by trying to make it something more. But you need to understand something. You don't have to impress me, Marinette. You already have! I spent one night with your family and it was the best night I've had in a long time. You helped me have a great Christmas that I would otherwise have spent alone. I saw how happy you are, and how much love you have to share with those who are important to you. I understand now why you make such a good Ladybug. Because you're still you. The mask can't give those children in the hospital a good Christmas. But your love for others can! So don't you dare apologize to me for being yourself. Because that would be like apologizing for the things that made me like you so much in the first place. You need to know that I am extremely fond of you."

At some point during his speech, he'd stood up. He didn't remember doing it. Ladybug stared up at him with round blue eyes. He stared right back.

She nodded slowly, then stood and walked over to him, eyes brimming with tears. Was she going to cry? Why? That wasn't supposed to happen-

In the span of a second, they were standing inches apart, and Adrien hardly dared to breathe. Ladybug whispered, "Spots off," and her mask dissolved. Then her arms wrapped themselves around him, and she buried her face in his chest.

"Did you mean it?" she asked, muffled. "All of it?"

"Of course I did."

"Well," she said, lifting her head again, her eyes still a little watery. "Adrien. Chat Noir. I am extremely fond of you too."

In the moments that followed, neither of them could really find the motivation to exit the embrace. They knew they'd have to leave eventually, but for a few precious seconds, Adrien and Marinette found themselves looking up. They were positioned underneath her trapdoor, and sure enough, right above them, was a little sprig of-

"Mistletoe," Marinette whispered.

"You know what we have to do now," said Adrien.

"Yes, well, if we must," she giggled.

And so they kissed.

When the urgency of their mission resurfaced to their minds, they finally broke apart, blushing. "We really should go," Marinette said reluctantly. "But I am glad you're staying with us all week, Adrien. My parents put mistletoe pretty much everywhere. It would be a shame if they did all that work for nothing."

"I like the way you think, My Lady," he said, and they donned their masks again. As she led the way up the ladder to the trapdoor, he noticed her smiling at him.

"What?"

"Merry Christmas, Chat Noir," she whispered, then tugged open the trapdoor. Snowflakes fell down like glitter onto her hair.

Chat caught one on his tongue and made a silent wish for more nights like this one.

"Merry Christmas, Ladybug."