One: Rain

The water soaking through her flats was the final indignity.

It took an amazing amount of effort to stop herself from screaming out a long line of curses; channeling some of her heroic alter-ego's famous temperance, Marinette Dupain-Cheng instead set her expression into one of grim determination, adjusted her purse, and deliberately sloshed her way along the cobblestones of the sidewalk, wishing for the millionth time she'd packed her umbrella that morning before leaving for work. Her hair was beyond waterlogged, so holding up her purse against the worst of the storm ravaging Paris would make little difference; the designs within the leather bag were already destroyed, both literally and figuratively, given the tiny, tiny pieces of paper she'd shredded them into not fifteen minutes earlier. Months she had spent on the outfits for the Spring Fashion Show; every waking moment, both at work during the day and late into the evening in her small studio apartment had produced two notebooks of ideas that in turn gelled into seventeen outfits.

And none had been good enough.

Not one.

Turning the corner, she felt the rain pick up in intensity and frowned, for the nearest Metro stop was still four blocks away. Part of her felt the weather was completely appropriate, given how hard Gabriel Agreste had come down on her. Icy cold, he was; after two years of being his star designer, she'd found as of late his criticisms had become more barbed, and more pointed. Nothing seemed to please him anymore, despite how hard she or any member of the team tried. She could still feel his words ringing in her ears after his latest meltdown; he'd been so loud, everything in the design studio had come to an abrupt halt, including the photoshoot on the small set in the far corner of the space. Normally, Marinette could handle being dressed down in front of her staff, for it had become a near daily experience, but that afternoon had been one time too many.

She'd finally snapped.

And been fired for her troubles.

She wasn't entirely sure if it hurt more that Adrien had appeared and begun arguing passionately for her, having been on the set when the shouting match had begun; his entreaties to his father seemed only to make Gabriel more resolute. Seeing them toe to toe, cold fury matched with righteous anger had been the final straw, and she'd bolted – but not before Adrien tried to call after her. Marinette had ignored him and the looks from her now ex-teammates as she'd pushed into the stairwell and then resolutely marched out into the cold rain.

Two blocks from the Metro, Marinette passed an alleyway she had used only that morning to drop her transformation after defeating the latest akuma-and-sentimonster combo Hawkmoth had thrown at the heroes of Paris and seriously considered breaking her longstanding rule of using her Miraculous for personal reasons. Each time before when she had disregarded it had landed her in a world of trouble, so she readjusted her purse and slogged on through the downpour, allowing the anger to overtake her – but only for a moment. Pausing beneath a streetlight dimly illuminating the sidewalk from the darkness of the storm, she knew strong emotions were like a beacon to Hawkmoth; given her current state of mind, she couldn't afford to become an easy target. Biting her bottom lip, she reminded herself that there were bigger things at stake than her dream job working for Gabriel Agreste.

She was one block from the Metro when the rain seemed to slacken a bit; it took her another moment to realize that it was a highly localized phenomenon, helped along a bit by the tall feline-themed superhero who had quietly appeared next to her on the sidewalk. Chat Noir was spinning his slightly extended baton over the two of them, using his shield mode to keep the worst of the storm at bay. That he seemed to be doing it with so little effort spoke to the decade he had been fighting by her side.

"Princess," he smiled slightly, his green feline eyes watching her closely. "You seem to have forgotten your umbrella."

Marinette smiled back. Chat was a semi-regular presence in her civilian life, having visited her on occasion when she was still living at the Bakery or turning up when she least expected him while she was sketching in the park or walking along the Seine. He seemed unerringly to know when she needed someone to talk to – someone other than Alya; for while she loved her best friend dearly, she knew intrinsically she could rely on Chat's absolute discretion. Oddly, it had never bothered her that she had no idea who was beneath the domino mask; if anything, it had made it even easier to turn to him as the perfect confidential confidant.

"I did, yes," she replied, pulling her blazer a little tighter and feeling the cold press closer. "But in my defense, it was supposed to be partly sunny today."

"You can never trust the weather forecasters in this city," Chat replied lightly, his masked eyes narrowing with humor. "Thankfully, the water rolls off my costume. But you look thoroughly drenched. Are you on your way home?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

Chat glanced toward the Metro stop, question unasked.

"It's just seven stops," she answered. "I'll be fine."

Chat eyed her closely. "And your running mascara is from the rain, too?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," she replied hastily, somewhat shocked that the Black Cat of Destruction had zeroed in so quickly on her emotional state. Then again, she'd seen him turn those empathetic tendencies on more than a few akuma victims, helping them through the worst of returning from Hawkmoth's mind control. "I should create a new line that is waterproof."

"It would be a bestseller," he smiled slightly. "C'mon, let me take you home."

"Chat, the Metro is—"

"I can get you there faster, and you know it. The sooner you get into a warm shower, the better."

Marinette started to argue, but felt herself lifted off of her feet; bowing to the inevitable – once Chat's mind was set, it was rare she could talk him out of anything, either as Ladybug or as Marinette – she threw her arms around his neck and leaned into his chest, then closed her eyes. She heard his baton chirp as they rose into the air, then felt the wind against her face as Chat began to run along the rooftops of the city, carefully carrying his precious cargo. It wasn't the first time he had held her close to his black-leather cladded chest, of course, but that evening, she felt herself snuggling in just a bit, savoring the warmth emanating from his costume. Clearly the cold had worked its way into her core.

As they landed on the small patio outside of her studio apartment, she belatedly realized Chat had never visited her at that location. For some reason, it seemed important to ask him how he'd known where to go, but the feline didn't give her the chance. Two steps and he was at the French door, pulling it open with a free paw; using his night vision, he deftly avoided her furniture and unerringly found her master bedroom and the bath beyond, pushing the door open with his boot. Setting her down on the small toilet, he moved to the walk-in shower and reached past the door, turning the faucet as hot as it would go.

With the water hissing behind him, Chat turned back to Marinette. "Do you have tea or coffee out in the kitchen? I'll brew something for you while you shower."

"Tea," she said. "It's in the cabinet—"

Chat smiled and tapped his nose. "I'll find it. Now, get in and warm up."

"All right."

And that was when she did something so unexpected, it shocked both of them.

Turning to go, Chat's tail flapped behind him just close enough that she was able to snatch it out of the air, arresting his departure. He turned his mop of hair in her direction, masked eyes narrowed; as Ladybug, she was well aware that he absolutely hated it when she yanked him around by the tail, but oddly, he seemed to tolerate it when Marinette did it. Chat's eyes widened when she slowly started to reel him back toward her, twisting him around at the last moment just as she stood up to meet him.

"Marinette?" Chat asked, eyes searching hers. "What's wrong?"

"Everything," she whispered, knowing it was the truth.

He put his paws on her shoulders. "What can I do to help?" he asked with such sincerity that something deep inside her shifted, allowing her to cast away whatever inhibitions would have normally prevented her next action.

"This," she said even more quietly.

Deliberately slowly, Marinette leaned up and pressed her lips to Chat. Despite all of his flirting with Ladybug, she knew that at his core, her partner was the ultimate gentleman; he reacted accordingly, tensing at her touch and starting to pull back. Still holding his tail, Marinette gently pulled him closer, pressing his black cladded form to hers and allowing her to kiss him more deeply.

Parting for a moment, Chat looked at her. "Mari—"

"I need this," she replied with a conviction she didn't know she had. "Please."

She watched his expression, and for a moment felt a pang of guilt; she knew he still carried a flame for Ladybug, despite the decade that had passed and her hope he'd finally put aside his crush and move on. Warring emotions washed across his masked visage, Chat visibly torn between the unobtainable woman he loved and the friend in front of him who was clearly in distress. Once more, his feline instincts kicked in, and he opted to salve the very visible pain of Marinette, bowing his feline-ear topped mane almost as if in defeat.

In that moment, she didn't care and tugged him toward the still-running shower, wanting more than anything to forget every last little bit of what had happened to her that day.