"No…" Ladybug breathed, scrambling across the room. "Oh, no, no, no…"
Adrien watched her, matching pace as quickly as he could outside of his transformation. From his knees on the floor, mid-search, he managed to reach the door only a split second after her.
"This can't be happening." Her eyes veered off, looking pensively over at the dressing and make up table.
She looked so panicked that he couldn't help but try to swoop in and save the day; he struggled against the door.
The latch between the door and frame was holding firm—there was hardly any give in it. He knocked against it again; his weight landing heavily with a thud against the dark wood made it clear the door itself was very solid.
Crouching down, he peered into the space between the door, trying to get a better look at the lock. It was a challenge from behind the mask, but he was hardly any stranger to getting locked away so he tried anyways.
He felt her warm presence beside him, before spotting the sheer look of determination on her face.
Adrien smiled, as he slowly shifted his balance to stand. At least this time, he wasn't alone…
Marinette squared her shoulders, placing her feet in an optimal stance. She grabbed for the door handle, twisting and pulling with every spare ounce of strength she could muster.
His eyes widened, gaze darting instantly back to her face in profile and then back to the door.
The latch held firm but the door itself did manage to move.
On sheer instinct, he whistled. "That was impressive."
She flushed as she relinquished her hold on the handle. "I had to do a lot of lifting at one of my past jobs." Shaking her hands, she glanced back around the room, her mind still racing. Shaking her head, she strode over to the dressing table. "Clearly, it wasn't quite enough…"
Adrien sighed, instinctively feeling his pocket.
Only to come up empty…
Blanching, he glanced around the room.
Plagg never usually strayed far. This suit wasn't exactly as tight as his true transformation but it wasn't as loose as his daily wear, either.
It had been a challenge to keep his Kwami close during shifts. But afterwards, Plagg would dive into his locker for food whenever the coast was clear.
There was still a tray of cookies (and perhaps a bit of lunch) atop the side table along the back wall. That was most likely where he was hiding...
Marinette pulled out the drawers of the dressing table, peering inside and rifling around. She blew out a shaky breath, clearly coming up empty handed before turning towards that food laden table.
Where Plagg was almost certainly hiding.
What if Marinette found him first?
She'd seen a Kwami before. She must have even seen Plagg before, when she'd been Multimouse.
But of course, his Kwami had decided it would be a great idea to dart out of sight. It wasn't like Adrien could call him to come out. Not with Marinette right there…
A cold thrill of fear chased down his back. He had to distract her. Now.
"Do you think we might be stuck in here, then?" he asked hurriedly, and she swiveled to face him.
She nibbled at her lip, nose scrunched up adorably as she mentally ran through some options.
Absently, his fingers slipped up towards the nape of his neck; it had to be illegal for her to look that adorable.
"I mean… I hope not. I really wanted to find that watch and get it back to Santa."
Adrien nodded, fiercely. "Why don't we work on that, then? And maybe we'll find… something else that might help with the door."
She treated him to a brilliant smile. "That's a purrfect plan, Kitty."
Adrien gulped, flushing darkly—all the way to the tips of his ears—as he stepped over to the table. He murmured a sober thanks before staking his claim to search in that area of the room to keep his Kwami hidden.
To keep her safe.
Adrien couldn't bear the thought of putting Marinette at risk. Ladybug would never approve of him unveiling himself to a civilian. Even one she had trusted so much.
Besides, right now, he really wasn't in a rush to leave her side…
He'd been very careful. After the party, he'd given her a little extra space to ensure she was not regretting their interactions.
He wanted to tell Marinette how he felt about her, but age and wisdom both have made him a little more circumspect.
He couldn't bear the thought that he could possibly scare her off, or screw up their friendship…
Because she's the only one—other than Ladybug—who had ever managed to turn his head, and fully keep his attention.
Marinette peered back over at Chat Noir and then back to the door.
She knew that there was certainly hope—Tikki could become intangible. And even if she couldn't knock the lock out of place, there was always some sort of hope that her Kwami could find another way to get help to come up here and get them both out…
She couldn't dare risk revealing herself, though. It still wouldn't be safe—for either of them. She couldn't risk transforming and summoning a Lucky Charm.
And there was no way to get out… not with Chat Noir watching her like a very curious cat.
Which itself was odd. He'd just spent the last two days taking a big, very noticeable, step back… giving her a little extra space. Far more than she'd expected.
Far more than she'd wanted, if she was being entirely honest with herself. She'd thought their conversations had gone really well.
Her lips pressed into a very thin line—the way he was behaving was something to think about later, after Tikki helped them escape. Of course, all of that that was only a theoretical possibility, provided she could find Tikki.
She shook her head, sighing heavily. There was no doubt in her mind that Tikki dove into hiding when Chat was approaching.
It was why she'd been in such a state of panic when Chat Noir had first arrived. There was literally no one worse that could spot Tikki.
On the positive side, if Tikki was out of sight, that had to mean that there were no Akuma—or any other threats—on the radar.
Marinette tugged another drawer open, mentally expanding her search from rogue watches to include anything that might also work as a rudimentary lock pick. If only there was something in here she could find that he'd possibly buy as a means to break them both out of here…
They pored over the drawers, looking for something—anything—that might be able to get them out, but it looked like most everything had been emptied out of the room.
She blinked, collapsing onto a chair, and slumping back wearily… when suddenly, a thought hit her; panic had scrambled her thoughts, allowing her to gloss over one very key fact.
She was in this room with Chat Noir.
Her eyes drifted over to his form as he very carefully crawled around the room, scouring every available centimeter from eye level to floorboard.
She smiled at him fondly, watching his diligent search.
If Chat Noir was here, that meant he had Plagg here, too. She could only assume that Plagg could also pull off some of the same basic powers as Tikki.
So, he might be able to do something. Her brows furrowed beneath the mask. Except for the fact that he hadn't tried yet.
But that wouldn't make any sense…
Unless…
Of course, she smacked her head. Even if he didn't know it, Chat Noir must have been worried about the same things she had been.
Strategically, she moved herself to the back wall, crawling down to the area behind the couch.
Out of clear sight of the door.
All she had to do was to provide him an easy opportunity! The Chat Noir she knew wouldn't hesitate to try to save the day. She brushed her hands through dust bunnies under the back of the couch to give him time to act.
Anytime now.
Marinette bit her lip, studiously keeping her gaze in the exact opposite direction of the door.
She wasn't very well going to tempt fate.
Silent minutes passed before Marinette sat back on her heels, frustrated.
She knew Plagg could sometimes be a bit of a hassle as a Kwami. Maybe his suit hadn't really allowed anywhere for his Kwami to hide for the entirety of their shifts either, and Plagg was still hiding out in the locker?
Marinette stood, her back a little sore and achy from the search. She arched her back, relishing a satisfying stretch before flopping onto the couch and sinking blissfully against the cushions.
She flushed slightly when she felt his gaze stray back to her. Turning her eyes away, she anxiously fussed with her hair as he slowly erased the space between them. "It looks like this is going to take a while," she said, still trying to avoid looking up at him. "Even if we can find the timepiece, there's no telling how fast we can reach someone who can get us out."
Chat Noir shrugged, sitting down beside her on the couch. "I don't really mind. I didn't have any big plans for tonight anyways."
She blinked, gaze slipping back to his in spite of herself. "Don't you have anyone at home who will be missing you?"
"I have a roommate who would notice, but I'm sure he's got other plans for the evening." He smirked, and mischievous humor lowered his voice. "He probably wouldn't notice even if I got in a few hours late…"
Marinette chuckled, her legs folding up under her more comfortably atop the cushions as she turned herself a bit more towards him. "Well, it isn't like we can call right now either."
Chat Noir's smile widened. "I'm sure you have to have someone who will be missing you, too."
She waved a hand dismissively. "I'll see them soon enough. We'll be together for the whole of Christmas Day, so..."
The not-so-subtle silence that had fallen between them was deafening.
It didn't help one bit that in those fraught moments where he dared to glance over at her, she kept watching him right back.
Adrien had been thinking about all of this for a while. He'd come to terms with the fact that he'd harbored a crush on Marinette for years. Plagg had known and had called him on it long ago. But the stars—and their respective relationship status—had never aligned.
Not until now anyways.
Yet, she had told him, over and over, that she hadn't thought of him as anything more than a friend. On more than a few occasions, he'd wondered (hoped even) that she might actually be playing a little coy.
These fabric masks had only proven to him that his instincts had actually been right.
His gaze kept darting back to her lovely blue eyes, wondering if maybe this really was his chance.
The unspoken words kept tripping at his tongue. Words were the very thing that usually came so easily to him.
But they didn't usually matter so much to him. Not like this.
Between University, and life, and not getting to see each other in school every day, it was just natural Marinette had pulled away even more over the years.
Santa had been right. This was a perfect opportunity.
This job had been the perfect chance to reconnect and prove to himself that everything could be as wonderful as he'd ever hoped it might be with Marinette.
And it was—things were even just as friendly as anything had ever been since he'd donned this fake suit.
After everything that had happened over the past few years, it sometimes surprised him that he could still hold out hope… and he couldn't help but also hope that maybe she was feeling something more for him too.
"Chat?" She murmured, baffled by the intensity of his stare in their silence.
Her hand rose—a gentle blur of scarlet that slipped into his vision before he felt the gentle pressure at his shoulder. "Are you alright?"
His smile softened. "Just purrfect."
She'd rolled her eyes, but it didn't detract from the fond smile that tugged at her lips. "You really are ridiculous…"
Now that sounded like a challenge.
Grinning, he moved to close the distance between them, his hand pressing down against the couch as he lifted himself just to scoot a bit closer.
Blinking, he looked down, halting in place. Right there, where he had pressed was a surprisingly hard spot in between the otherwise soft couch cushions…
Of all the rotten luck...
He flinched, gloved hand lingering over the metal. There was no way he could cover this up. Not that he really wanted to…
"Chat?"
The lights flickered slightly as he peered over at Marinette. He searched her face, looking for some hint that she was thinking of him in the same way he thought of her.
This time with her was rapidly slipping away. Plagg would come back soon enough… and then he would be all out of excuses.
He slumped back against the couch, picking up the timepiece from between the cushions.
"What would you say if I…"
"Oh!" She breathed, her fingertips lingering out to graze the aged silver in his palm. "You found it!"
She beamed, leaning over a bit farther—a bit clumsily, he noticed—to joyfully throw her arms around him.
He almost had forgotten the question he hadn't been able to get out. The question she still had yet to answer.
Lingering beside him, she opened the timepiece up, looking at the picture. After a moment, her eyes met his. "That must have been his wife." He leaned over her shoulder, mulling over the photograph—it seemed like it would have been taken in the late 1980s. It was colorized and a bid faded, but her dark hair and grey eyes were clear. "He said he'd carried it every day."
"It makes sense." Chat Noir's gaze softened as he slipped the watch into her waiting hands. "He didn't really want to do any of this without her."
Marinette's gaze snapped away, certain she was blushing darkly enough to match her suit. "I suppose it must have slipped out of his pocket. It might be a little too late to rush it out to Santa, whenever we do manage to get out of here. But at least we could give it to one of the managers to get it back to him."
He smiled secretly. And, if he was able, maybe he could purrsuade the management to give him the address so he could have Chat Noir make a special delivery.
She pulled her legs up towards her chest, setting her chin atop her knees. Her bottom lip just barely started to quiver. "Think it will take long for someone to find us?"
He frowned, heading over to the table to see if there was anything worth snacking on in the interim. His eyes roved over the table, surreptitiously looking for Plagg as he did a quick inventory of what Santa had left over. "I dunno. Not many people usually head back this way."
Chat noticed Santa had also left a box of sweets and a bottle of wine. He would buy him another… even buy him a whole case of bottles when they were out of here. He was used to going without food, but he hated to think she could be suffering when there were things to eat right here.
He tossed her a small bag of cookies and she caught it—with far more ease than he'd expected from Marinette.
"I usually have a bit more luck in finding things." She shook her head, arms crossing, burrowed into the softer fabric. "Maybe if I'd started talking to him earlier we'd be done and gone by now."
He watched her, a soft smile lifting his lips.
"Don't worry about it." He reassured her as he settled back down on the couch. "I don't mind being here . Not if it's with you. It's nice to be able to do without a bunch of kids hanging off our arms."
Marinette's mind was racing, even as she'd cuddled up on the couch.
He was sad. She could tell, even if she couldn't put her finger on why. She had long suspected his life hadn't exactly been happy, though she'd always been as careful as possible about asking her partner in truth about the details of his family. It was just too risky.
But now that she knew a little?
She couldn't help but wonder just how lonely he'd been all along.
Her mind drifted back to the box sitting on her desk at home. She wanted nothing more than to give it to him. But it wouldn't really have made sense. Not without Ladybug giving Chat Noir his gift first.
"Do you have big plans for the holiday?"
He smirked. "I thought I might serenade you with a few Christmas carols…"
He'd only started to hum a few bars before she cut him off.
"Oh, no." She groaned.
He simply laughed. "Well, wouldn't it be better to attract some attention? If there is someone near, they would surely want to investigate."
Her eyes narrowed as she fought off a smirk. "Yeah, but your yowling would only drive them off."
Chat Noir laughed harder at that.
She leered over at him. "Maybe you ought to keep your day job?"
He grew quiet—far more quiet than she'd usually seen from her partner. His soft green eyes watched her, speculatively. "I think I just finished it," came his sober reply.
Marinette's chest squeezed painfully, feeling the weight of his gaze and the gentle emotion in his voice.
"Chat, I—" she started, but was stunned to silence when their room became suddenly and startlingly pitch black.
She heard his breathing speed up beside her. "Stay here."
She nodded—not that he'd see.
She knew he was ambling aimlessly over to the light switch. Silly cat probably thought he'd still have his Kitty Vision attuned.
To his credit, he only stumbled into furniture once before he reached the door. The soft flick of the switches made noise—but there wasn't even the barest hint of light.
"Fantastic," she muttered, as he shuffled back across the short distance. What if this was some sort of attack they really need to head out and handle?
He was on edge, muscles tensed as he sidled up beside her, listening more intently. As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she could see him beside her. Those eyes didn't glow, but she could see enough to tell he was decidedly uncomfortable.
"You don't like cramped spaces?" Her fingers patted against his arm, comfortingly.
She heard his soft, weary exhale. "I'm not a big fan of feeling vulnerable..."
"I get that." She was raring and ready to save the world. But a vulnerable Kitty? That was kind of new for her.
He tensed even more, though he lowered himself to sit on the couch beside her. She watched him carefully, as he tilted his head and closed his eyes.
"What are you doing?" she whispered back, anxious to fill the silence and soothe the heavy pit growing in her stomach—anxious to be sure that he was really alright.
"Trying to listen to the weather." Chat Noir answered.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
He was surprisingly serious… but not in a way that made her fear he was about to panic. If anything, she recognized this tension more and more for what she'd lived through during the past several years.
"I know we haven't always had the usual sort of outages…"
"The weather isn't always so mild…" She snorted ruthlessly.
"Was that a joke?" He chuckled, his teeth a flash of brightness in the dark.
She rolled her eyes, tapping his bell fondly.
He went suddenly silent, his attention fully on her.
"What was that one Akuma's name, again?"
"Stormy Weather…" Marinette whispered, automatically. Without hesitation. Without even thinking about it.
Even in the dark, it was obvious they were looking at one another oddly. They both felt it, she was sure, and they'd been feeling it all along—how strangely easy it had been to fall into their old patterns. In front of an audience was one thing… but even here and now, it was never more clear that their ease with one another never really went away.
She shrugged, trying to explain away her knowledge, while rubbing her arms against the growing chill in the air. "I had a few friends who were super into the Ladyblog when we were growing up."
He chuckled, the warmth in his voice seeping into her bones. But only for a second. "I think I know a few people like that…"
Marinette hopped up quickly and stumbled across the floor, floundering until she grabbed the sweaters she'd found earlier. Squinting in the dark, she tossed one at him.
He looked at it, puzzled… and then began to tug off his gloves.
"What are you doing?" she looked mildly horrified.
"What does it look like?"
"Like you're being ridiculous. It's halfway to freezing," she chastised.
If there was more light, she would have seen his face burning with crimson. "Well," he almost stammered, "you're clearly cold. Skin to skin is the best method of warming people up—that's how this works. Isn't it? I mean, scientifically it's the most efficient way." he offered his hand to her.
Her eyes narrowed. "Uh huh, sure"
"It's true, honestly!" He frowned. "Though actually, maybe you should climb onto my lap… for insulation purposes…" his frown melted back into a mischievous grin.
"Oh my goodness, Kitty. Where did you even come up with this…?"
"So what if I enjoy a good romance… what's the big deal" he pouted.
She snorted. "Or a bad one..."
He grumbled audibly as he finished shucking off his gloves and tugged the sweater over his head and into place.
"Seriously." Marinette chuckled as she did the same. "My friend made me read some truly awful fanfiction a few years back. Bad romance and fanfic can be synonymous depending on where you look—I've encountered my fair share of it."
"Besides, we're not exactly hypothermic here," she giggled, finally tugging the sweater down over her head. Her laughter was cut off suddenly as she let out an irritated noise.
"What is it?" He'd cleared the space between them in an instant.
"My mask just got hung up as I was getting this sweater on."
He ducked down, fingers clumsily colliding with hers as they both tried to right her mask and the growing mess of her hair. Between them, it was still a little challenging in the dark.
"But…" he started as he lowered his hands from her face, "Do you really need it?"
She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't exactly trying to pull it off..."
"I know," he assured. "It's just… If you just took it off, would that be so bad? Our jobs are all done after all..."
Marinette seemed to grow skittish, physically tensing up beneath his bare fingers where they lingered on her shoulders.
"I mean," Chat pressed the envelope a little. "Would it be so bad if we did spend more time together? Maybe after Christmas and all."
"Chat—" She began to murmur sadly, and he cut her off.
"This has just been so fun," he whispered. "And, I'd hate to lose another friend."
She hugged him. But she didn't answer. She didn't trust herself with the words…
"Sorry." His shoulders slumped. "You don't have to say anything. Really."
Much as she'd hated to admit it, he was right. Finally bundled up and cuddled together, the much needed warmth was hitting her—and quick.
They talked about anything safe. Running through their favorite games and foods and colors.
It came as no surprise to her that in a lot of ways their tastes were quite similar.
He sighed, stretching on the couch beside her. Remembering that one of Santa's extra robes still hung in the wardrobe, he walked over and retrieved it before settling down on the floor.
"What are you doing?"
He blinked before stating the obvious. "It's getting late. I think I'm going to lay down on the floor so you can have the couch."
"That's ridiculous," she frowned at him. "Don't make me take you on the couch!" Even in the dark, his mind's eye could see her face pale with perfect clarity. "Wait! It's not like that!"
From his spot on the floor, his shoulders shook with silent laughter. It had been so long, he'd almost forgotten just how much Marinette would stumble over her words, sometimes. Her fascinating jumble of word salad was refreshing; half endearing because of the nostalgia, and half, simply because it was so her.
She tugged his hand, pulling him—robe and all—back up from the floor.
He sat on the couch, a little distance from her. They retreated to opposite sides of the couch and faced one another, leaning back against the tall arms and stretching their legs along the length of the cushions. She settled herself along the inside of the couch, leaving him to let his longer legs hang off the side. Chat tugged Santa's robe over both of their laps, and it made for a great make-shift blanket. He grinned into the dark. "I've got ya covered…"
Her pained sigh was a treat. "I regret everything…"
The few minutes they spent tugging the robe back and forth between them made it all too clear that the current arrangement wasn't going to work as well as they'd hoped. As usual, Marinette had come up with an alternate plan of action.
"We're both adults here." She murmured. "Surely we can share." She looked up at him, waiting for him to say anything to counter her suggestion, but all he did was nod silently—his dark silhouette barely visible in the darkness.
Marinette sat up slowly, and then crawled across the couch to scoot next to him along its edge. Chat wordlessly raised an arm; she snuggled into his side, and he lowered his arm around her protectively.
She looked up at him as he draped his arm around her—suddenly realizing how close they were like this. He stared back at the girl cuddled in his arms—neither dared to move an inch, though they didn't pull back either.
Errantly, she wondered if any of the extra senses he had as Chat had actually improved his normal senses after all this time, or if she'd be spared the embarrassment of him catching her expression. Even in the dark, she was worried she was too likely to give something away.
"I'm not sure if this is going to work either." She turned her face away. "I half feel like I'm going to fall."
"I'm not going to let you fall."
"I didn't think you'd try," she rolled her eyes. "But you are going to have to sleep sometime…"
Chat Noir hummed before lifting her up and shuffling them both around in one fluid motion, settling her gently atop his chest and wrapping one arm around her to keep her safely from falling. "What about this?"
Marinette blinked, feeling her face warm far faster than the rest of her. "That should work."
"It's weird, you know." Chat murmured. "You really do kind of smell like cookies, especially so close…"
Her shoulders tensed—Marinette was panicking, he was sure. Her eyes grew very wide, and for half a second, he thought she would pull away.
Carefully, he reached out a steadying hand, and gently massaged the tension from her shoulder. She reluctantly set her head back down on his chest.
He breathed out slowly to mask the heavy sigh that spilled past his lips. It seemed that she really didn't want him to know who she was...
Adrien rested an ungloved hand on her back…
A faint smile lingered on his lips. His hands might be a little cold—even underneath the cover of the robe. But it was worth it.
Marinette had even grumbled at him to put them back on, but he wasn't about to change his mind. There was too much risk that their clawed tips would poke into her back.
Besides, it would have been awkward enough to pull out his contacts to sleep without removing them...
He was quick to reassure her that his hands would be warm enough under the robe that they burrowed under together. She was still a little hesitant with the intimacy of their closeness, and she'd asked him, "Are you sure you're okay with this?"
"Don't worry, My Lady. This cat is a gentleman."
She smiled fondly. "I know."
He squeezed her a little tighter, only for a moment. She could never know how much those words meant—more satisfying, even, since they'd come from Marinette. He'd always valued her opinion, and no other civilian—outside of maybe Alya—had seen him succeed and fail from up close.
He could feel her pulling away slightly, to look at him in curiosity. He could see the silent question in her eyes.
He beamed at her. "You know? I don't think the real Ladybug and Chat Noir ever had to cuddle up like this."
She shook her head, carefully bracing her arm at his shoulder to not poke any bony elbows into his chest. "I can't imagine they'd exactly have much opportunity. Besides, I'm not sure that quite meets Ladybug's standards for professional behavior."
Adrien chuckled loudly. He couldn't help it. That was an understatement. "That may be true, but I have it on good authority—from the Ladyblog itself, no less—that Chat Noir and Ladybug did actually kiss." He smiled. "At least once…"
"Hmmm…" Her chest rumbled against his. "Not sure they remembered it though."
He pouted. For years, he'd wanted nothing more than to remember it… time and time again.
"I wonder…" She tilted her head. "Did that mean it wasn't memorable?"
Absently, his hand rubbed her back, trying to not appear as wistful as he was actually feeling right now. "If it were me, I'm not sure I'd want to forget…"
She nodded, growing quietly speculative before she let her head rest back down against his chest, careful not to jostle his bell. Her free hand drifted down to lie against the other side of his chest. "You must have done a lot of homework for this role, too, right?"
He chuckled, hoping it would mask the way his heart was starting to race. Considering, it was hard to do anything else that would give himself away. "You say that like we both didn't live through all the Akuma in Paris for years…"
Her breathing slowed, and the soft puffs of her breath slipped across the bit of exposed skin at his neck. It was warm. Blissfully warm.
His muscles ached a bit, but having her here with him was worth the small discomfort.
She was lying atop him, the softer planes of hers fitted neatly against his. Her lower leg was slightly bent with the arch of her foot grazing the back of his calf. She rested higher on his chest, far from the dangerous area that would cause any awkwardness.
But he didn't dare to move.
He didn't want to scare Marinette away. He couldn't bear the thought…
He was nestled close to her, his lips rested recklessly close to her—just inches from her hairline.
It had been nearly an hour now. Long enough that he was sure she must have drifted off, long ago.
In the long moments that had passed, he'd come to a decision. He wasn't going to press her again, but he wasn't going to entirely give up hope, either. When it came time for them to part in the morning, he was going to give her an email… one that she could use to reach out to him, if she changed her mind.
Adrien pressed a kiss to her forehead, practically ghosting across the skin near her hairline.
"I hate that this will all be over when we wake up. I wish we could stay like this…" he murmured softly to himself as his eyes slid shut, and sleep claimed him.
Marinette's eyes shot open wide.
She had been so, so close to finally slipping off into dreamland to the steady, lull of his heartbeat. It was all too hard not to be affected by his proximity.
But man, if that hadn't woken her up.
She had to fight to contain a sigh. She was extremely flattered by his genuinely fond attention. And it left her with growing awareness that her own feelings were not exactly platonic… but it wouldn't really be fair to Chat Noir for her to act on anything. Not without him knowing the truth.
It didn't help that her heart wasn't entirely turning him down, especially not when he's holding her tightly and treating her as if she were made of glass.
And he was right—their last shift was done. There was no obvious reason that they should continue to obscure their identities from one another. Would she be willing to try for something more with him? Other relationships had come and gone… and nothing had ever materialized from the one she'd always held out hope for…
She liked him. Truly liked him, far more than she'd ever realized. Where Adrien had been panic inducing, he'd inspired calm.
Where Luka had inspired… well… too much calm… there were these open lines of communication with Chat. They understood one another almost too well.
She gently threaded her fingers through his hair… absently smoothing bits along the nape of his neck to the sounds of his almost imperceptible snoring.
With Chat Noir... well, much though she'd hate to admit it, Tikki had been right. They balanced each other out in all the best ways.
She'd thought about that so much and so often… it was nice to just get a reprieve. Chat had always cared, and had been there for her. He was beside her for years, picking up pieces any time she'd faltered.
She'd feared he was a little lazy, reckless, and irresponsible… and in some ways she wasn't wrong. But he had never let her down, at least not when it really mattered.
Time and trust had done a number on her heart.
But somehow, Chat Noir had been entirely oblivious to Ladybug's growing felines for her partner.
She nibbled at her lip, staring into the dim shine of his fake brass bell. Though her feelings had changed, what hadn't changed was the fact that she was still desperate to keep them both safe.
She knew without any doubt in her mind that the guy keeping her warm as she was trapped in this room was actually her Chat Noir.
But she couldn't really explain why.
That's what made the prospect of meeting outside of the masks so dangerous.
If they did meet, she would know for sure just who had been hidden behind the mask all along. She knew it would be almost impossible to pretend not to know once she found out; her poker face just wasn't that good, so Chat would be able to tell something was up.
And despite everything Fu and Tikki had ever told her, she knew in her heart that finding out who was behind that mask was something she couldn't avoid—it was a battle she was destined to lose, and if she was being honest, she wasn't sure she would want to win it anyways.
So, if this had to happen, she'd prefer it to be on her own terms. After all, she still had a gift for Ladybug to give to Chat Noir tomorrow night. And then, maybe after Christmas— like he'd said—she'd be ready to really meet him.
She had more than grown into her added responsibilities as guardian, and he'd been by her side all 'd survived five years and one super villain, she knew she could trust him with her safety. There was no question in her mind… she could also trust him to protect her heart.
Nuzzling closer to his chest, a soft smile tugged at her lips, and Marinette began to plan.
She'd just sleep for a little while. While it was still so warm beside him.
As she finally felt herself slipping into the pull of slumber, Marinette gently raked her fingers into Chat's hair, jostling his ears a bit. As nervous as the thought of meeting Chat behind his mask made her, she knew that he would always be there for her.
After all, he'd been the one protecting her all along.