Marinette was back as the timer for the bread dough went off, and Adrien was knocking on the door some fifteen minutes later.

He was breathless when she opened it for him, and raised her eyebrows in surprise when he proffed a paper bag.

'I stopped by the delicatessen on the way back.' He grinned. 'Maybe we enjoy it with some fresh bread when it's done.'

'That's a great idea,' Marinette smilled, allowing him to pass into the apartment. 'Did you have a nice walk?'

'I did,' he nodded, putting the bag carefully onto a chair. 'The weather is great today. Did I miss the timer?'

She followed him over, and peered into the bag. 'Yes, but not by much. Like I said, it doesn't matter. As long as you don't accidently fall asleep, or forget about it for a few days,' she glanced sideways, looking sheepish.

'Who knew bread could be so stressful?' He was looking at the covered bowls curiously, and she approached.

'Are you ready?' She questioned devilishly, her hands on the edges of the tea towels covering the bowls.

'Will they have changed much? I don't know what to expect.'

'Three, two, one,' she pulled the cloths back with a flourish. 'Bomf.'

He stared down in amazement. 'They're huge!' He picked up his bowl, and was suprised by the added weight. 'They must've doubled in size!'

'Something like that, yes.' Marinette smiled. 'It's the yeast.'

'What do we do next?'

'Well,' she went and grabbed the bag of flour. 'This is the part where we knead it.' She sprinkled a light dusting over the table in front of him, and he got a gleam in his eye.

'Oh! I know this part!' He raised the bowl above his head, and was surprised by being nearly tackled by Marinette. 'Hey!'

'Don't throw it down!' She exclaimed, almost glaring up at him.

'What? Why?' He questioned, lowering the bowl slightly. 'It's what the movies do?'

'If you do it, you'll squish all the air pockets out of it, and your bread will have the density of a brick.' She relaxed, before flushing hugely. She had somehow managed to wedge herself between him and the table, her hands against his raised arms, and was almost flush against him. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.'

He shrugged, a soft pink spreading across his cheeks. 'You're the chef. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you either.' He smiled slightly. 'I'll just put this down, before you jump me.'

Carefully, he lowered the bowl to the table behind her, before grinning.

She blinked. 'Your tongue's red.'

He flushed a little more, looking guilty. 'Oh, um,' He looked down, before looking at her again. 'That ice-cream guy, André, was down on the river. I thought I'd get some while I was there. Sorry,'

True, she had had some herself. 'You don't need to apologise. Let me guess, you got the cherry?'

'Is it that obvious?' He laughed, but still had a guilty look about his face. 'I really shouldn't have,'

'Really, don't worry about it. I would have done the same in your shoes.' She had. 'I hope you didn't spoil your appetite?' She found herself winking at him, as if she was Ladybug.

He turned a shade darker, his eyes going a little wider. 'You, well, l-luckily I didn't get a lot?' He gestured to the bag of deli goods. 'I should have gotten some ice cream for you.'

She brushed him away, still amazed how long her nerve was holding out. Thank god she wasn't fourteen anymore. 'Even dough I'd be too busy to eat it.'

He stepped back, and immediately turned his face away to cover the furious blush that rivalled the cherry ice cream. 'A-ah, you're right. Good point.'

Obliviously, she watched him curiously while he struggled to regain control of his face. 'Are you alright?'

'S-sorry,' he said, and after a moment was back. 'So how can we get the dough out of the bowls without slam dunking it?'

'Well,' she went around the table to her own dough, sprinkled down her own flour and started carefully easing the dough out of the bowl with practiced fingers. 'It's easy when you've got the hang of it. It should come all together fairly easily though, but you have to be gentle.'

He watched her for a moment, before looking down at his bowl. 'You're really good at this sort of thing.' He tried to mimic her, carefully prying the dough out like it might bite him.

She flushed. 'Well, I was raised in a bakery after all, it's not that surprising,'

'No, you're a woman of many talents.' He smiled. 'You can cook, you can sew, you can make clothes that even impresses-,' he cut himself off, pausing as the last of his dough tipped gently onto the table.

She paused in her kneading, looking between him and his dough. 'Here.' She moved to stand behind him, and used his hands to carefully turn the dough over. 'Then you just start pulling on the sides, and folding it back in. Gently.' She reminded him, releasing his hands to demonstrate the motion.

He followed her movements, folding the dough carefully. 'Thank you.' After a few tries he had the motion down, and she moved back to her own dough quietly.

They worked in silence for a time, yet as it slid past Adrien's face slipped from one of concentration to more and more downcast, a pinch forming between his eyebrows.

'Do you want to talk about it?' She asked, having watched his face out of the corner of her eye.

He sighed, his eyes on his dough. 'My father and I had a huge fight.' He paused to watch her hands for a moment, then adjusted his own to mimic hers more carefully. 'It's probably not that surprising.'

She let out a breath, not looking up at him. 'Do you want to tell me what happened?'

He was quiet for a long moment, a moment long enough that she was going to take it for a no, until he spoke. 'It's been happening a lot lately. What with the anniversery of my mother disappearing and all.' He did not take his eyes away from his work, grateful to have something to do with his hands. 'She was so sick before, he doesn't know but I remember it so clearly. She always tried to keep it from me, she tried to pretend nothing was wrong, but I knew.'

'I'm sorry,' Marinette breathed, not daring to do anything else.

'It's not your fault.' He chuckled darkly. 'I don't know much of the details about it. Just that she kept getting sicker, and then she disappeared. We never saw her again. That was a few months before I came to your school, before I met you and Nino and Alya.' He paused in his folding, before restarting. 'I don't really remember how the fight started, but I knew how it finished.'

He finally looked up at her; he was distraught. 'I swear, it's not my fault she disappeared. It's not my fault she got sick. You have to believe me.'

Tears rose unbidden to her eyes. 'Of course not. Adrien, it's not your fault.' She rubbed at her face as they threatened to spill, her dough forgotten before her.

'I didn't even know she was gone until after; they all tried to keep it from me. Please, I had nothing to do with it,' the corners of his mouth had turned down, and he looked like he was fighting back tears of his own. Her heart squeezed painfully.

She moved around the table, and opened her arms. 'It's not ok right now,' she said, 'but it will be. I'm here for you.'

He abandoned his dough without a second thought, and threw his arms around her, squeezing her tightly and burying his face into her shoulder. 'I'm sorry, I didn't know,' his voice was shaking. 'Please don't be angry,'

'I'm not mad at you, you've done nothing wrong.' She squeezed him back, her own tears falling freely.

'But I did, I ruined the painting on my way out the door,' it wasn't only his voice that was shaking, and very small. 'I was angry and I tipped it, and it fell down the stairs and broke...'
'Which painting?' She rubbed his back gently, not caring about the flour.

'The black one, the one from just after she disappeared.'

She spoke slowly, as if testing out the words. 'I never liked that painting anyway, you looked so miserable in it that I just couldn't bare to even look.'

'The frame was in so many pieces, and the canvas caught and tore on the handrail on the way down,' he gulped. 'There was glass everywhere, I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry,'

'Adrien, it's going to be alright,' she murmered. 'I'm just glad you got out of there safely. I'm glad you came away and stayed with one of your friends instead of staying there a moment longer.'

'I've never seen him so angry before,' she could feel the dampness on her shoulder. 'I was scared he was going to get akumatised again, I was so scared,'

Marinette couldn't find anything to say, her heart ached with the sadness that radiated out from the usually calm person before her.

'I didn't know, I was only a kid at the time, it's not my fault,' he shuddered. 'Why didn't Natalie do anything? She was right there, she saw it all, I-I thought she was on my side, she was angry too,'

Marinette had never seen him like this before, it broke her heart. 'It's going to be ok,' she soothed.

'I don't know how he could ever forgive me, I don't know what I'm supposed to do,'

Suddenly his phone went off, with the worst timing. Shakily he pulled it out of his back pocket, and dropped it almost immediately like it had bit him.

Marinette looked down, to see the stern face of his father's icon looking up at them.

'I can't, I can,'t,' Adrien stammered, pulling away.

She looked between it and his white face, before drawing a breath. 'Adrien, go sit on the couch.'

'What?' He managed, looking at her. He was a mess, one that she would protect absolutely.

'Go sit on the couch. Do it.' She pointed, almost hating herself for the stern note that came into her voice.

'A-alright,' he moved carefully, pitifully, and she reached down for the phone.

With quick, deft movements, she had the back off of it and the battery in her hand. The sudden silence was deafening, and she heard him draw a shuddering breath.

She crossed to the couch, where he sat looking at his hands in his lap, like a punished schoolboy. She presented the battery to him, and he looked between it and her.

She took one look at his face, and reached to present the tissue box next to the couch to him as well.

He took a tissue gratefully, hiding his face with it. 'I-I'm sorry, you didn't have to see that,' he started.

She sat next to him carefully, and rested a hand on his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles. 'I'm glad you were able to tell me. You did great.'

'B-but-'

She raised her eyebrows at him slightly. 'Do I need to call Alya? Because she will certainly kick your butt into next week for thinking you're a burden on us.'

He gave a watery chuckle. 'She probably would. I'm still sorry though. I've probably ruined the bread.'

Marinette shrugged. 'A little extra salt won't hurt it. This is why it's good to make bread after a tough time. When you work the bread it's easier to work through other things as well.'

He peeked at her with puffy eyes. 'You're so wise, Marinette. Anyone would think you were Ladybug herself.'

Her face froze, but managed to force herself not to twitch. 'Wellll, maybe I could give her some tips.' She elbowed him playfully, and he managed a slight smile.

He took a deep breath, before looking at her properly. 'Thank you, Marinette.' He looked down at the battery on his knee, and visibly slumped. 'I don't know what I'm going to do about that.' The more he stared, the more miserable he looked.

Before she knew it, her hand was on his cheek, and he started slightly, looking back at her. 'You can take your time and think about it.' She said gently. 'And you can stay here as long as you want while you figure it out.'

He blinked at her. 'A-are you sure? I don't want to be a bother, I'd have to go back event-'

'You don't have to go back.' She cut him off, and was unapologetic. 'You don't have to go back there at all.' For the second time today, she was giving advice to fly the coop. 'If nothing else, you're one of my best friends, Adrien. You may have noticed that I'm here for you.'

He smiled slightly. 'You're not the first person to tell me that.'

'I'm not surprised.' Marinette replied. She looked at him for a moment. 'And I'm not angry at you. None of your friends are. Anyone who is angry at you right now is simply wrong.' She hesitated. 'And also, maybe apart from the painting, nothing is your fault. And it was a terrible painting anyway, so it hardly matters.' She smiled slightly at him. 'If he puts up anything like it to replace it, I'll help you throw it from the top of the house.'

He stared at her for a moment, before nodding slowly. He took a deep breath, and released it, his shoulders relaxing as he did so. '"From the top of the house", that's such an Alya thing to say.' He nearly smiled.

She shrugged, retracting her hand with a pang of regret. 'It rubs off. And it gets the point across.'

He rubbed at his face again. 'We should get back to the bread.'

'Are you okay with that?' She asked.

He looked at the battery for a moment, before moving it to the arm of the couch. 'Yeah.' He stood, stretched for a moment, before offering his hand to her.

Almost without thinking she took it as she stood, and the two stood for a moment with their fingers intertwined.

'...I didn't know you counted me as one of your best friends.' He said, after a moment.

She nodded, looking down. 'I want to be there for you if you need me.'

'I think you've proven that by now.' He gave her a half-grin.

'I hope so.' She smiled back softly.

He blinked at her twice, and flushed red. 'W-well, I want to go and wash my face before I work on the bread again, I don't want to scare those air-bubbles off.'

'O-ok,' she said, watching him flee into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

After a moment, Tikki appeared over her shoulder. 'You did great, Marinette.'

'I just hope that it was enough.' Marinette replied, a slew of emotion racing across fer face.