Author's Note: Earlier this year, I wrote a story dealing with the aftermath of the events in Puppeteer 2. Entitled No Strings, the final chapter gave us a peek at a middle-aged version of Chat Noir and Ladybug - married, with kids, and still fighting villains in the City of Love. At the time, I'd not considered whether their kids would know that their super-nerdy parents were also the Heros of Paris… and then thought what trouble I could make if it were Christmas…

Please note: the characters have been aged up to consenting adults (with kids! Did I mention they had kids?!), so you've been warned. What happens beyond this author's note was completely, and totally, out of my control. (That's what happens when you let Chat have access to your laptop for an afternoon.)

Spoiler Alert: There are some Season 3 spoilers ahead. If you haven't completed that season, you might want to skip ahead and return later. Just sayn'.

MR: Geez… I don't even know how to follow that. I'm just gonna blame Ep for everything and run… since he's the one who wrote it.

Reveal: Marinette and Adrien

It was Christmas Eve in Paris, and as had become traditional for us, Ladybug and I had done our special patrol to ensure no villainous shenanigans waylaid Santa Claus from his appointed rounds. We were on a first name basis with the Chief Elf these days, considering how many times we'd come to his aid over the years; fortunately, this year had been blissfully quiet.

As was also traditional, it was snowing heavily. That didn't stop me from chasing Ladybug across the rooftops of Paris on our way home, dashing and leaping around each other much as we had since the beginning. We were no longer brash young teens, as evidenced by the streaks of silver in my wild mane, but donning our superhero personalities seemed to bring back that exuberance at least one of us had back then.

We skidded to a stop at the edge of a favored perch, and I picked her up in my arms in a massive hug. Ladybug shrieked good naturedly, squirming around until she could face me to kiss me properly as I set her back down. "Another successful night," I purred. "As is any night with you, Milady."

"The evening is young, kitty," she laughed as she jingled my bell. "There might yet be trouble."

"I'm furrvently hoping the current Hawkmoth is willing to give us the night off."

"May your hopes prove out," she laughed, then turned to press her back into my chest.

I wrapped my arms around her waist as the two of us considered the Eiffel Tower off in the distance. The lights were on still, even at the late hour - a cheerful reminder of the rapid approach of the holiday. "I love this view, and I love sharing it with you, Bug."

"Same here, Chat," she sighed. "But we'd better get home."

I nodded into her hair. "It was a stroke of genius having the kids stay with grandmama tonight," I said as I surreptitiously took in the exotic scent of my partner. Motherhood had subtly adjusted the notes I associated with her, adding a hint of cinnamon to the normal mixture of vanilla and sugar.

"I've tried to use that card sparingly," she said. "If we use her too frequently, she'll put two-and-two together and come up with Chat and Ladybug."

I nodded again, though I privately suspected that Sabine was well aware of our nocturnal carousing and had quietly accepted it many years ago. "All right, let's go rescue your mom."

Ladybug tossed her yo-yo into the air, a fluid movement driven by her years of using the device; she sailed into the snowy night, and I leapt up into the darkness behind her. Quickly we worked our way across the city to the Bakery, and dropped nearly silently one after the other in the alleyway next to it. A moment later, Marinette used her key to let us into the residence where we found Sabine zonked out on the couch, our three daughters snuggled up against her. The twins, both newly-minted teenagers, were on either side, with our eight-year-old curled on Sabine's lap.

"Hey," Marinette said softly as she shook Sabine.

Her mom was as beautiful as ever, though her dark hair was now white. Sabine cracked an eye and smiled. "Finished saving the world then, dear?" she said quietly.

Marinette and I shared a quick look; both of us were flushing slightly. "Maman-" my wife started.

"It's okay, honey," she whispered. "Your secret is safe." She shifted slightly, handing our youngest to Marinette. "All three of them took forever to get to sleep. Why don't you let them stay tonight?" she asked. "The two of you could use some couple time. But be back for brunch."

I looked to Mari. "Are you sure, Sabine?" I whispered. "They're going to be nuts in the morning."

"I am."

"Okay," I said. "We'll bring the presents back with us and do everything here tomorrow."

Sabine smiled wider as only a grandmother could. "Take her up to your old room, dear," she said to Marinette, who had Elena on her hip. "I made the beds up for them just in case you said yes."

I smiled. "How long have you been planning this?"

"Since last Christmas," she laughed. "Now off with you."

We climbed the steps I knew so well and found that two rollaway beds were in Marinette's old room, in addition to her original loft bed. Carefully, she tucked Elena into one of the rollaways, then pointed to the skylight. Nodding, I followed her up and onto the Bakery rooftop patio, a place we'd spent many enjoyable hours together. We transformed together and returned to the townhouse we now called home.

Much like the Bakery, it had a rooftop patio that led directly to the master bedroom; it had been an intentional architectural decision, allowing the two of us to come and go undetected by our kidlets. It had been a little tricky balancing the kids and super-hero duties, but fortunately a kindly, wizened Asian acquaintance of ours tended to drop in unannounced right when we needed him. The kids loved Uncle Fu, though they had seen less of him once the twins were old enough to be alone for periods on their own.

We landed on the patio together, and I followed her into our bedroom. Feeling a bit frisky, I tackled her onto the bed before she had a chance to de-transform. "Chat!" she cried out with a chuckle. "What are you doing? We've got to pack up the presents!"

I wrapped myself around her, and allowed my tail to snake itself around her ankle. "I'm snuggling with my wife," I explained. "It's Christmas Eve, after all."

"Let me release Tikki and we can do it properly," she said into my chest.

My masked eyes gleamed wickedly. "We've not spent the night transformed in a while, Milady," I purred. "I could make it worth your while…" I added, kicking the purring into a higher gear.

"Chat-"

I started to rub the side of my face into her, and purred even louder. I knew I was wearing her down, and soon she stopped protesting and instead snuggled deeper into me. "You are incorrigible," she said happily. "But we should really do this properly."

Some basal feline instinct had taken ahold of me, enough that I'd not really understood what my wife was saying. Eyes closed, I was drawing expanding circles around her yo-yo at her hip with a claw tip when I heard her mutter something and then the louder pop-and-crackle of her dropping her transformation. Startled, my masked eyes popped open to see Marinette on her side, wide smile on her face and devilish look in those deep blue eyes. "This is the way it started, if I recall correctly."

My paw went to her hair, and I pushed back her bangs. "Well, Princess," I said, reverting to my pet name for her civilian persona, "technically you still wore pigtails back then," I reminded her wistfully. "But I can make do. Plagg - cla-"

"No," Marinette whispered quickly, putting a finger to my lips. "You stay as Chat."

My masked eyes widened, partly with surprise but more with a tinge of panic, for certain bodily responses had begun to make themselves known - responses that were incapable of being addressed while transformed. I tried to shift slightly to relieve the pressure and realized Marinette had positioned herself in such a way as to prevent movement.

"Milady," I said, slightly desperately, "I'm not sure you understand the situation…"

"If I recall," she cackled evilly, "I believe this was your suggestion in the first place."

"When I said 'we-'" I started to reply before gasping slightly at her unexpected touch in a rather sensitive area, masked eyes flying as wide as felinely possible.

"I know," she cackled evilly. "And you also appear to have forgotten one key component."

"I… oh, wow… I did?" I said, struggling a bit to stay focused while under her ministrations, for my devious wife had snuck her other hand up to an ear and had started to gently rub it between her fingertips.

"Yeah," she said as she moved to a feline ear and whispered: "the suits still don't come off."

I groaned. "Now you remind me." I closed my eyes in bliss, and knew the purring was threatening to overwhelm the conversation. "I'm putty in your hands."

"And don't you forget it, kitty," she laughed as she released my ear and curled into my chest, head just under my bell.

My purring ramped back up and I wrapped my black-cladded arms around my wife, reveling in the moment. The more basal feline instincts kicked in and I growled just a bit as I flipped her around; she let out a bit of a happy yelp as her head sunk into the pillow, then pulled me down to her by the bell. She was just beginning to place her lips against mine when it was her turn to gasp; her startled eyes locked to my feline green ones. Momentarily breathless, she whispered: "Careful with those claws, kitty… I like these jeans…"

"Then you should have stayed transformed, too," I said evilly as I slowly repaid her earlier ministrations tenfold.

Sabine was right - we didn't often get solo adult time these days, so any stolen interludes were welcome. At length, as we drifted off to sleep snuggled together in comfortable exhaustion, I found myself purring contentedly as I held Marinette in my arms on this special night.

I awoke with a start to someone shaking my shoulder. Groggily, I tried to blink my eyes open. "Mari? What's wrong?"

"Chat?" a very familiar voice said. "Why are you and Mom in my parent's bed?"

Both masked eyes snapped open. Marinette was still snuggled into me and gently snoring; turning, I saw one of the twins hovering on my side of the bed. "Juliette?"

Her eyes widened, emphasizing my mistake. "How do you know who I am? How did you get in here? Where's Dad?"

Swallowing slightly, I nudged Marinette awake. Hero of Paris or not, there was no way I facing our daughter without backup. Mari's eyes flew open, immediately saw Juliette, and then looked back at me. As she slid out of my embrace and subtly buttoned her blouse, I could read her expression clear as day: What do we do now?

"Aren't you supposed to be at your grandmothers?" I asked, sternly.

"Yes," Juliette replied. "Are you having an affair with Mom?"

"No!" I said a bit too quickly, raising a paw in defense. "I mean, this isn't what it looks like."

"Really," she said, arching an eyebrow at me in a familiar expression and then turned to train her glare at Marinette.

Marinette slid to the side of the bed. "Chat's a dear… friend," she said, casting a humorous glance at me. "I've known him since I was your age."

Juliette looked at me. "He's in your bed. With you."

"Yes - well, uh," Marinette started, and I saw the flush begin to creep up her face much like it once had back in our school days. "Chat, uh, knows your father, too."

"You do?" she asked, turning her green eyes on me. Not for the first time did I realize she was an amazing blend of the two of us.

"Yes," I said. "He's… had to…" I drowned as I flicked a glance back at Marinette.

"Check on something back at his office," Marinette helpfully suggested. "He asked Chat to guard our Christmas Tree."

"Exactly," I said, though my look to Marinette was more on the order of Really? That's the best you've got? "And seeing as though cats love trees, I was purrfect for the job."

Juliette's eyes went wide. "Is there something special about our tree?"

"Yes," I said, floundering for an explanation. "Santa left something very special this year, and your parents wanted to make sure no… akuma… took it." My feline eyes flicked to Marinette again. "They've helped Ladybug and I a ton of times over the years. I'm happy to return the favor."

"But you're in their bed," she persisted.

"I was just testing it," I said hastily and then realized it wasn't helping. I looked to Marinette, pleading for help with my eyes, then turned back.

Arching that eyebrow again, Juliette fixed her gaze on me. "Are you two a couple?" she asked baldly. "Aunt Alya says you used to be. Before Dad married Mom."

"Did she?" I asked, narrowing my eyes and making a mental note to talk to Mari's best friend at some point. She'd made quite the fuss years ago when she'd first found out about Marinette dating Chat Noir. I'd hoped the photos were long gone from the Ladyblog but now wondered.

"Actually, young lady, why aren't you at your grandmother's house?" Marinette asked, trying to derail the runaway train I was on.

Juliette returned the narrowed eyes. "Grandmama sent me. You and Dad were supposed to come for brunch."

I pulled out my baton, belatedly realizing why my back was aching in that spot as I did so. Popping open the phone I could see we were very, very, very late.

"Princess..." I started, showing her the phone display.

Her beautiful blue eyes rolled at me, her look saying I told you this was a bad idea. "Well, honey, I'm not sure when Dad will be back."

"Can I wait with you?" our daughter asked as she climbed up onto the bed.

I shot a glance at Marinette. "I'm not sure-" I started, feeling somewhat helpless.

"Actually, Chat was just leaving," Marinette said, gently but firmly nudging me off the bed. "Weren't you, Chat?"

"Yes, right," I said, sliding off the bed and standing, baton in one paw. "There are other Christmas Trees in danger that I need to check on," I added, ignoring my partner's eye roll.

"Thank you, Chat," Marinette said formally, a smile teasing at the corner of her lips. "Our… tree… was in good hands."

"My pawlesure, Milady," I replied automatically before seeing Marinette grimace.

Juliette turned toward me again. "Don't you call Ladybug that?"

"Call her what?" I asked innocently as I slowly walked backwards toward the french doors and escape, desperately hoping my daughter wasn't as smart as I knew her to be.

"You called her 'Milady,'" she said. "According to the Ladyblog, that's your pet name for Ladybug."

"Really?" I laughed nervously, running a paw to the back of my neck. "I had no idea."

Narrowing her eyes, she looked to Marinette, and both of us could see the wheels turning. "Mom, are you…?" she started, before turning back to me and looking at me differently. "Dad?" she asked, a smile starting. "Oh my God. My parents are-"

"Honey," Marinette said quickly, "this is a very, very important secret."

"You are!" she squealed. "This is insane."

I moved to Juliette and put my paws on her shoulders after seeing Marinette nod at me. "We've been Ladybug and Chat Noir since we were your age, mon cherie," I said. "While I think you and your sister are probably old enough now to handle the truth, I need you to understand how serious this is."

Juliette looked at me. "Do we have to tell-"

"Yes," Marinette said. "And you cannot breathe a word of this to anyone." She looked to me. "Especially Aunt Alya."

I knelt down to be at her height. "This is really important, Jules," I said, my masked eyes connecting with hers. "No one can know who we are - it's how we've been able to keep our friends and family safe all these years. You're part of that inner circle of trust, now, so both your mother and I are depending on you to keep our secret. Can you do that?"

She nodded. "You can count on me, Dad," she smiled. "Chat," she corrected.

"Good," I laughed as I leaned up to kiss her on the cheek. "Now, let's go get those presents and head back to the Bakery."

"Can I ask a question?" Juliette prompted as I stood.

"Of course."

"Can I have a kwami?" she asked.

Marinette's eyes widened. "How do you know-"

"Aunt Alya," Juliette replied. "It's on her blog. And she says you - well, Ladybug - give them out to new team members when you need to." She looked at my wife expectantly. "Can I? I'd be a great superhero!"

"It doesn't exactly work that way," I laughed. "And you're too young, anyway."

"You just said you were my age when you became Chat, Dad," she reminded me, cocking her head much the way I did when I disagreed with Ladybug.

"She has a point, Milady," I said, laughing.

"Absolutely not," Marinette said.

"But Mom-"

"No," she said firmly. "Now, head down to the living room, young lady, and wait for us."

"Can Chat carry me back to the Bakery?" Juliette asked. "Like he-"

"No," Marinette thundered in full Ladybug.

Juliette frowned and let us know how annoyed she was with the answer by stomping out of the master suite and down the steps to the lower floor. I turned to my wife and pulled her into my arms. "That was nowhere close to what I expected it would be like when we finally came clean to our kids," I said.

"I know," Mari sighed as she pressed her head to my chest. "And now I have another set of worries to deal with."

"They can handle it," I said confidently. "They're us, after all."

"But—"

"It's you and me against the world," I reminded her. "Much like it has always been. We'll do it together." I smiled slyly though as my masked eyes fell on her polka-dotted Miraculous Box hiding in plain sight with her knitting materials. "I might suggest moving that to a safer location, though."

"Good point," she laughed. "And I'll have Wayzz remind the other kwamis to be a bit more circumspect from this point forward."

"All right, Mistress Guardian. Shall we get on with Christmas?"

"Yes kitty," she said after kissing me. "And then we'll have a nice, long chat with my parents and our eldest daughters."

"Do we have to tell your Dad?" I mewled. "I think he still has some lingering issues with Chat."

"He'll be fine," she laughed. "Just laugh at his dad jokes and all will be forgiven."

"I can do that," I replied as I kissed her hair. "I can totally do that."