Stuck In A Bakery (With You), Chapter 42
The next morning brought a gentle knock at Marinette's bedroom door, to which she called, "Come in! I'm just finishing up!" from her bathroom.
Adrien opened the door slowly, peeking inside before entering fully. "You're dressed?" he ventured.
"Kind of! I mean... yes, I'm dressed enough," Marinette replied. "You're fine."
Satisfied, Adrien walked inside. "We're getting to be old hands at this, aren't we?" he smiled. "Tagging in and out of the shower, I mean."
"You could say that." Marinette opened the bathroom door the rest of the way and stepped out, wearing a pink bathrobe with a towel entwined around her head. "Almost like an old married couple. The thrill is gone, and it's just everyday living together now, huh?"
"I... wouldn't go quite that far," murmured Adrien with a smile. "Because you can thrill me without even trying. And when you do try, you're simply amazing."
Marinette watched his eyes light up... and was suddenly acutely aware that while Adrien remained a polite distance away, her cotton robe was all that was protecting her modesty. "Oh!" she gasped, smiling but tightening her robe's sash just a little bit more securely. "I don't know how 'thrilling' I am, exactly... you're the model, after all."
"If you don't think that you're very attractive, Marinette, I'm not doing a very good job of convincing you otherwise," beamed Adrien. "And I rather thought that I had been."
"Yeah... it's hard to argue that much any more," blushed Marinette. "How about you go get your shower now, before my mouth gets me into more trouble?"
"What kind of trouble?" grinned Adrien, moving a step closer.
"Any kind of trouble," she laughed, gesturing to the steamy bathroom. "Go, you."
As the bathroom door closed, Marinette thought, I'm kind of right, though. We are becoming acclimated. It really was just a week ago that I was all twitchy up in my bed, just because one of us was showering in the same HOUSE as the other. Now here I was, one little move away from being bare right in front of Adrien, and I wasn't even flinching at first when he came in! I INVITED him in!
Of course, she mused, that's because I know that neither one of us would MAKE that move. That we feel totally safe with each other now. That we would... never...
Ever...
ever...
At that moment, Marinette closed her eyes, because a portion of her brain would no longer allow itself to be suppressed fully.
In her mind, she pictured the scene as it had just happened; her stepping out of her bathroom in her robe, with Adrien giving her those soft, appreciative eyes.
She envisioned Adrien with his calm expression giving way to an intense yearning, stepping forward and embracing her then and there. Their kiss was lengthy, and deepened by the moment. A wave of swift passion swept her worries and hesitations away, as if they'd never been there, as if there had never been a reason for them in the first place.
She watched a hand - Adrien's hand - grasp the sash at her waist, gently at first, then with a slow but inexorable pull. His eyes were comforting, but also insistent; she understood what was happening, that he was doing it slowly enough to allow her a chance to protest, and she felt powerless to resist it in any way.
It felt inevitable. It felt absolutely terrifying. It felt like everything that a different part of her could ever want.
As Marinette felt her robe began to loosen and give way, a mere moment away from clearing her shoulders and tumbling to the carpet, she held her breath...
Tikki watched Marinette's response to this sudden daydream. Quickly, she made sure that the bathroom door was securely closed before coming out, then flew over to Marinette's side with a curious expression on her tiny face.
"Marinette..." she whispered, "why are you hiding in your closet, with the door shut?"
"I think that I'm going to get dressed now," a nervous Marinette mumbled. "Right now."
Marinette filed her daydream in a cabinet in the back of her brain labeled DON'T EVEN GO THERE, and at least pretended to lock it.
Downstairs at breakfast, the conversation was light and breezy.
As Marinette finished her eggs and toast, a morning news report on the television caught her attention. Nadja Chamack was standing in front of a prominent downtown hospital, looking somewhat somber.
"...And while the Intensive Care wing is at a stable capacity for the moment, hospital director Eveline Moreau has other pressing concerns. She has a message for those who may be in a position to assist them."
She passed the microphone to a distinguished-looking older woman, who faced the camera. "Yes... thank you, Nadja. Our regular supplier of personal protective equipment is overwhelmed at this moment; they will be unable to replenish our stores of masks and gloves until sometime next week. We have rush orders in with alternative suppliers, but given the worldwide crisis... we have reason to believe that they will prove overwhelmed, as well. This leaves us in a very dangerous position."
"If anyone out there can donate N95 respiratory masks - either surgical-grade or standard - or other protective gear for the benefit of our health-care workers, we would be forever indebted to them," Ms. Moreau declared. "Any quality, any quantity; please call us and we will provide instruction as to how to donate. The lives that you help save may help save yours another day. Thank you very much."
Sabine shook her head, also watching the broadcast. "That is so sad," she sighed. "The hospital staff are working so hard to save people, with or without the virus... people are still having heart attacks and seizures and accidents and such, even while this pandemic happens around them... but they're just as vulnerable as anybody else. What happens if nurses and doctors all get it en masse?"
"I know," agreed Adrien. "I thought about asking Father if he could make a donation... but just throwing money at the problem won't make masks appear out of thin air. He'd have to find someone who can produce and deliver them, and like that lady just said... that's not easy these days. The demand is just so high."
Sabine tilted her head slightly, watching her daughter... who seemed completely lost in thought. "Marinette?" she asked quietly. "Are you all right?"
Throwing money at the problem won't make masks appear out of thin air, Marinette thought, ...but what if something else could?
"N-nothing, Mama," she replied with a small start, realizing that she was being addressed. "I just had something on my mind, I'm sorry."
About an hour later, down in the bakery, Marinette turned to her father once the room was free of customers. "Hey, Papa?" she asked.
"Yes?"
"May I be excused for a few minutes?" wondered Marinette. "I have a very brief errand that I'd like to run. I just need to get some air for a few minutes."
"Hmmm?" wondered Tom. "Is it anything that I can help with?"
"N-no, not really..." Marinette mumbled. "It's nothing major. I just need a moment to myself."
Tom studied her for a moment. "Is everything okay...?" he asked her, nudging his head in the direction of Adrien, who was back in the kitchen.
"Definitely! He's... that's not it at all, I promise. I'm just a little bit... I don't know... overwhelmed. I'll be masked when I go, and I'll just be a few minutes."
"All right, then. Just be careful, and not too long," Tom directed her.
As Marinette darted out the front door, Adrien popped his head through the kitchen's doorway. "Is something up?" he asked Tom.
"I'm not sure... but I don't think it's anything too serious. Marinette just wanted to take a walk for a few minutes," Tom replied. "Something about a brief errand. I'm sure that she'll be right back."
"Huh. She hadn't mentioned anything to me, either..." mused Adrien. He stared at the door for a moment... then, trusting Marinette's judgment, retreated back into the kitchen to his task at hand.
Marinette walked slowly down the sidewalk for a few dozen paces... then darted into an alleyway when no one was looking.
Tikki poked her head out of Marinette's purse. "What are you up to?" she asked.
"You know how I told Chat Noir that I felt like I should be doing more for Paris, but I didn't know what I could do? Now I think that I know what," said Marinette, firmly. "Spots on!"
Seconds later, a red blur shot up to the roof and across the Parisian skyline.
"Now, Ms. Moreau, I don't want to get your hopes up too high," Ladybug apologized preemptively, standing with her in an outdoor courtyard at the side of the hospital. "I'm not sure if this is going to work or not."
"Ladybug... the fact that you are trying at all is a blessing," the director assured her. "Someone will be here momentarily with what you asked for."
A couple of minutes later, an orderly arrived with a basket in hand. "These are what you needed?" he asked, handing the basket to Ladybug.
"Yes. I'll give them right back; I just want to look them over for a minute," explained Ladybug, rummaging through the basket. "I'm not sure if my Lucky Charm can create things that I can't mentally picture... and I want to make sure that I get this right. I can only do this once at a time." She held up examples of a couple of different hospital-grade protective masks, noting their components, then examined other protective gear that the orderly had brought.
That's not ENTIRELY true, I suppose, thought Ladybug. Like, I made a remote-control helicopter once and had no idea what its inner workings were like... but it flew. But most of my lucky charms are forks and wrenches and tennis racquets and simple things like that, so... knowing more about these might just help.
"I've seen your Lucky Charm on television," Ms. Moreau noted. "Doesn't it summon up one item at a time?"
"It does," Ladybug agreed. "And I can't specify what it will summon; it creates whatever is best suited to solve the problem at hand. Like, I can't make a Super-COVID-Killer Gun or anything like that, or just pull a vaccine out of thin air. But I do want to try something now... so, please, stand back, everyone. I'll need some room."
Clearing a space around herself, Ladybug concentrated as hard as she could manage.
This is about as specific a problem as I've ever tried to have Lucky Charm solve, she reasoned. So I'm hoping that what comes out will be what I think will appear. And if I wish hard enough for it to happen a certain way...
Here goes nothing.
She hurled her yo-yo skywards, then called out, "LUCKY... CHARM!"
Uncharacteristically, she felt a wave of considerable discomfort, and suppressed a scream...
The bright sparkles above her head coalesced into a solid object...
...a very large solid object, crashing to the ground in front of her with a resounding THUD. The wind caused by its landing blew everyone's hair back nearby, making several observers flinch.
Ladybug sank to her knees with a loud groan. That... wow, that was exhausting! she marveled. That HURT!
...But what did I get?
Director Moreau studied the large red-and-black manifestation. "What is that?" she wondered. "Some kind of storage container or crate?"
"Y-yes, I think so," gasped Ladybug. "Pop the end of it open and let's see."
The orderly helped Ms. Moreau pull the end of the crate down, finding it full to the brim with small, polka-dotted boxes. The director popped one open and gasped with happy surprise.
"It's... this looks like a perfectly-good N95 mask!" she marveled, holding up an example. "We'll have to examine it to see if it meets that standard of protection, but anything is better than nothing... Is this entire crate full of them?"
"I h-hope so," smiled Ladybug, weakly. "That was the main thing that I was wishing for. There m-might be other gear mixed in there as well. I hope th-that you don't mind the color scheme; I don't really have a ch-choice in that."
"The color is irrelevant. Miss Ladybug, you have done something incredible here!" the director beamed. Watching Ladybug's discomfort, she added, "Are... are you all right?"
"I should be. I just can't do that again for a while," explained Ladybug. "I've never created anything that large, or that complex. I'm beyond winded."
She added, "I suppose that it might be obvious where these came from... but please don't go on television and make a big deal out of it, okay? I can't... I don't know if I can do that again, and I'm sure others would come and ask. If you have more than you need, please share."
"Absolutely!" agreed Ms. Moreau. "Thank you so, so, so much, Ladybug."
"My pleasure," smiled Ladybug. "And I need to g-get going. I truly hope that this helps."
She waved to everyone, soaking in their appreciative cheers, then hurled her yo-yo up to a nearby roof and let it carry her into the air...
...only to nearly pass out in mid-leap, collapsing onto the rooftop, barely conscious.
I feel... terrible, moaned Ladybug. What's w-wrong with me? I have to ask T-tikki...
"Spots off," she gasped. In a white flash, she was herself again, and fell to her hands and knees feeling just as weak as Marinette as she had as Ladybug. Possibly worse.
"Marinette!" shouted Tikki. "S-stay with me! Look at me! That was a b-brave and compassionate thing you just did... but you should so not have done that."
"Wh-hat happened?" murmured Marinette, forcing her eyes open and aimed at Tikki.
"Marinette... trying to force a specific Lucky Charm is a st-strain, but like you just figured out, you can make it happen if you structure the problem the right way. But haven't you ever n-noticed that all the other Lucky Charms you've summoned have b-been single objects?" lectured Tikki. "And a lot smaller than what you just whipped up!"
"I've d-done multiple objects before," argued Marinette. "D-didn't hit me like th-this."
"You did a little bag of marbles once. Tiny little m-marbles," explained Tikki. "And a box of little bath bombs. Not a storage c-container the size of a van, full of hundreds of things!"
"Tikki... you look shaken up, too," worried Marinette, slowly trying to still her spinning senses. "Are you okay?"
"Kind of?" Tikki replied, wearily. "I'm completely drained. I know that there's a snack in your purse for me, but I'm... I can't transform again for a little while, even after that. I'm sorry."
"I should have d-discussed this with you f-first, Tikki. I'm the one who's sorry," apologized Marinette. "How long is a little while?"
"I don't know," said Tikki, glumly. "Hours, maybe."
"'S... okay," mumbled Marinette. "I do have a s-snack. You eat that and get some r-rest. Imma... take a little nap here."
"Marinette... this may not be the time or place for a n-nap," worried Tikki...
...upon deaf ears, as Marinette was out like a light.
"Or m-maybe it is," shrugged Tikki, wriggling into Marinette's purse in search of shelter and the macarons within.