A/N: If you enjoy, let me know! ^-^

4.

"Wow." Alya stared at the apartment in awe.

"I know!" Marinette smiled smugly, as she watched her friend take in the wooden floorboards in the bedroom, the king-sized bed with light blue bed sheets, the even bluer curtains of the room, the built-in wardrobe she hadn't inspected earlier and even the small cactus on a practically empty bookshelf. "And all this for 300 euros. Plus bills."

Alya might have been impressed by how cheap and beautiful it was, but she wasn't so easy to fool either. Without a word, she marched over to the kitchen, pulled a chair out from under the table and carried it to the bedroom. Marinette watched her, mildly curious. The journalist took the chair over to the wall with the vent, climbed it and removed the vent cover with a preemptive "Aha!"

"What did you find?" Suddenly, Marinette felt nervous. What if Alya had been right and this was a scam?

A wave of relief washed over Alya, mixing with surprise on her face. She had expected to find a spy camera that would reveal the horrid intentions of Marinette's new roommate. But the vent was empty.

"Absolutely nothing," she answered, closing the cover and climbing down. "But don't think I'm done yet."

Her next victim was the wardrobe. Marinette was impressed by the selection of black T-shirts and blue jeans. There was enough space to fit in some of her clothes, but she realized immediately that it wasn't big enough for everything.

"That's a boring taste," Alya commented, shifting gently through the shirts to check their labels. "Boy's rich. Most of these are Agreste originals." She felt the insides of the wardrobe doors before giving them a slight knock, wanting to see if it was hollow on the inside. Cameras these days could be so tiny and if Marinette's clearly wealthy roommate could afford clothes from brands like Agreste, he could afford tiny spy cams. But even tiny spy cams had to store data somewhere.

"Okay, the wardrobe's clean," Alya judged, making sure that the man's clothes were back to the way they had been before she had touched them. "But don't think I'll give up this easily."

"Suit yourself. I'll start unpacking." Marinette took her utility knife and cut through the tape on one of the boxes. It turned out to hold her kitchen equipment, so she stood up from the floor and picked it up, taking it to the kitchen. Meanwhile, Alya was conducting a meticulous search for snooping devices.

"This is weird," she told Marinette after a while. The bluenette looked up, fear raising its head again. Alya had pulled out her phone and was dialing a number.

"There's absolutely nothing. The place is clean! So I'm ordering pizza to celebrate." She grinned when Marinette heaved a sigh of relief. Her entire body slumped, as she let go of the tension that had taken hold of her.

"You have me on speed dial, right?" Alya asked, receiving a curt nod from the bluenette. "I'm still not convinced that this guy isn't a total creep, but his bathroom selection definitely gives him brownie points."

"His bathroom selection?!" Marinette spluttered just as Alya turned around to pass on her pizza order. "You snooped in the bathroom?!"

Alya glanced over her shoulder and winked at her friend. "Yes, that's right. And two cokes." After giving the address, she ended the call and turned back to Marinette. "Of course I did. You don't shower with your clothes on, do you?"

Cheeks flushed red, Marinette tried to find something to say to that. Alya patted her on the shoulder: "It's for your own safety. You might find me annoying now, but when I discover something earth shattering about him, you'll be thanking me."

"Yes, mom." Marinette's face transformed into a mask of seriousness, though the corners of her mouth struggled to stay still while all they really wanted to do was turn upwards into an amused smile.

Alya rolled her eyes, unamused. "I'm serious, Marinette. Rich guys don't normally share an apartment in the first place. I'm telling you, something is fishy here and I intend to get to the bottom of this."

"Well, until you do, I intend to share this apartment with Mr Sancoeur."

"Just… be careful, okay? If anything happens, call me. Doesn't matter if it's the middle of the night or if you know I'm busy," Alya reiterated.

"Alya, nothing bad is going to happen."

"And you better call me tomorrow morning," continued the journalist in complete seriousness. "If you don't check in, I'll call the cops and say you went missing."

The doorbell rang and she opened it, wallet already in hand, before Marinette could react. Money and pizza exchanged hands. Alya slipped the box onto the kitchen table, then slipped her wallet into her bag.

"Dinner's on me," she grinned, slinging her bag over the shoulder. "But I've gotta run. Remember what I told you, alright?"

"You sure you don't want a slice of pizza?" Marinette offered, already opening the box.

"I forgot I had an interview today, so thanks but no!" Alya opened the front door and waved. "Until tomorrow!"

"Bye!"

Marinette locked the door with her free hand, a slice of pizza in the other, not really surprised about Alya's forgetfulness. It seemed to happen often enough to be believable, so even though Marinette felt a nagging that Alya had been lying, she shrugged it off.

Finally alone in her apartment, she relaxed into the comfortable sofa where she finished her food, devouring nearly half of the pizza on her own. She washed her hands before continuing to unpack, making the place feel more like home. Her clothes fit into the wardrobe, looking awfully colorful next to the man's white and blue which she could easily pretend weren't there. She breathed in deeply, then, realizing what was missing, marched to the kitchen, ready to bake the same chocolate chip cookies Alya had insisted on in the morning.

"Don't let me down!" she spoke to the oven, as she slipped in the first tray. And though it was still only 7 p.m., she went to take a shower. Almost forgetting to bring her towel and bottles of shampoo, conditioner and shower gel, she finally ran the hot water. It scalded her skin before she could adjust the temperature and the girl swore, annoyed. The damage wasn't severe, there would be no blisters or bleeding, but her skin was red in the spot where the water had hit her.

Marinette washed herself in a hurry. She got out of the shower at the same time as the oven beeped. The woman ignored the cookies for a while, attending to her injury first by applying a moisturizer to the affected spot.

"I guess I should add a first-aid kit on a list of things this apartment needs," she muttered to herself, making a mental note. "That's the plan for tomorrow then. First-aid kit and groceries."

It felt a little weird talking to herself, but it helped her remain calm. During the shower, all Alya's concerns had started swirling around her head. Worries that she didn't think bothered her so much, fears that something might happen – Marinette thought her head was going to burst from overthinking.

"Everything will be fine," she told herself, going to bed a little earlier than she normally would. She didn't want to risk sleeping in on the first day of the flatshare. The thoughts kept her awake for hours until she finally drifted off at three in the morning.

It was practically a miracle that she even got up in the morning. She hurriedly made the bed, not wanting to make a bad impression, heated some pizza for a quick breakfast before stuffing the rest in the fridge, checked that everything looked decent and then had what she liked to consider a brilliant idea.

Marinette tore a page from her sketchbook. She bit her pencil, thinking about what to write, and then jotted the thoughts down, drawing a small ladybug on the edge of the paper for good luck.

Hello!

I'm Marinette, your new roommate. Nice to meet you! I hope you like home-cooked meals, since I'm still in the habit of cooking for two! By the way, the pizza's yours if you like it and you're more than welcome to the cookies! They're chocolate chip!

Have a good day/night!

Marinette

She read it over and slipped it under the plate with cookies, hoping he'd find it. Then she dashed out the door, calling Alya on the way, already late for the bus. It was 8:57 a.m.