Title: I Pick You

Author: Veritas Found

Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen

Characters/Pairings: Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng; Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Summary: Marinette had no idea how special the Jagged Stone pick actually was when Luka first gave it to her. Neither had any idea how special it would come to be to both of them.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes/Warnings: So there's a couple things at fault here, but it all traces back to Quick sharing a prompt about this couple who got together because of a dollar bill (she let him borrow it, he kept trying to give it back, and she wouldn't take it; eventually he used it to ask her out then later propose). Which got me thinking about the Jagged Stone pick, which led to OC-tober/Dingtober 12 ("Drip"), which needed to be a whole ass fic instead of the rushed shenanigans it was. Which is how we all got here. xD (Also for this particular chapter I pull a little from 10/8 ("Festival") for background, so some parts might seem familiar if you followed my OC-tober ficlets last October.)

TL;DR: DAMMIT, QUICK!

I Pick You

Chapter One: Picking You

The annual Music Festival in Paris was a pretty big deal, and this year was promising to be bigger than most. All of Paris was going out for it: even big names like Jagged Stone, XY, and Clara Nightingale were putting on shows at venues across the city. Tons of smaller venues were also booked, and even private homes were turning into concert halls for the occasion. The Liberty, home of one Anarka Couffaine, was no exception.

The houseboat was no stranger to music. Anarka had spent quite a few years when she was younger touring and recording, and while she now preferred to spend her days teaching and working odd jobs around the city her music had done well enough for the royalties to keep them afloat, even eighteen years later. The boat was littered with musical instruments, sound equipment, stage gear…among plenty of regular old litter, too, as Anarka preferred the lived-in look. It never surprised anyone when, every year without fail, the Music Festival found the Liberty blaring music from professional-grade speakers towering over the foredeck – when one of its occupants was home to blast said music and not playing one of the numerous gigs around the city instead. Music was in Anarka's blood, and so it was in her children's blood, and so it was in their home.

(…it was also in their father's blood, though they had never known him and all she'd ever said regarding the matter was that he was a useless lagabout from the road. That was fine, and they had never needed him, anyway. Anarka Couffaine was more than enough parent for her bairns.)

This year's Festival would be special, though. Every year – every Festival – was special, but this year would be even more so. Anarka always found somewhere to help out, even if she wasn't actually playing. Luka was the same, though for the past six years or so he'd been playing various street corners with his best friend. But this year would be Juleka's first year actively playing the Festival, and she'd be playing in a band.

A new band. Her band.

Well. Her and her friends. And her stupid brother, because he was actually kind of cool and had agreed to play with them (and he could really shred a guitar, which was an asset in any band). But still her band.

They were all a little excited.

(…everyone except Luka's best friend, that is, who'd been pouting ever since the band had first formed shortly after the start of the school year. He'd already found another group to play with, but he was deeply offended that Luka would dare play in a band whose drummer wasn't him.)

Kitty Section would probably never make any great waves in the music industry, but that wasn't their point. They were a first band – they were Juleka's first band – and that was good enough. They were just a group of kids making noise on a boat, and Anarka couldn't be more proud.

And, truth be told, Luka was kind of excited, too. Kitty Section was good, if a little eclectic, and he liked Juleka's (and now his) friends. He was proud of the music they were making. They'd been practicing together for a few months now, and the Festival was set to be their big debut. Juleka had even invited her class to check them out, which was awesome. He was so proud of his little sister, and he was so glad to see her finally coming out of her shell. The Festival had to go well, for her. And he knew it would. He firmly believed that.

Kitty Section was good.

They were ready.

The hours leading up to the big show were a flurry of activity, chaotic as anything on the Liberty ever was. Ivan showed up early, and Rose had spent the night to help Juleka get an early start on decorating. Luka helped Ivan move some of the heavier equipment and arrange the stage, but then Ivan was leaving to pick up his girlfriend and Juleka's other friends were starting to arrive, and Luka disappeared below deck to give them their space. Her friend Nino was helping rig up their sound system, and his girlfriend was…intense. She took over the decorating of the ship as soon as she arrived, and Luka had just wanted to get out of her way. More people were set to arrive any moment – Nino's best friend and Alya's best friend, too – and it was all getting a little…much. Crowded.

Luka wasn't nervous about the gig, but he'd always been keenly in tune with the emotions of others. If he was going to play his best, and he refused to play anything less than his best for Juleka, he needed to get away from the buzzing above deck to find his center. They still had a few hours before the show, and someone would get him before the final rehearsal. He had more than enough time to clear his head.

But somewhere amidst the chaos he'd lost track of time. He was sitting on his bed, cross-legged with a spare pick pinched between his fingers, when he sensed someone enter his cabin. He'd heard the unfamiliar footsteps approaching and the flailing when they'd noticed him, and he took an extra moment to just…observe. Shaky breathing joined a racing, unsettled heart, nerves and something deeper – more pained. Something…

…and then he smiled, and he opened his eyes, and he was lost.

He'd seen her in pictures and knew her name from Juleka. Marinette, the class president who stood up to Chloé Bourgeois and had broken the Photo Curse. He'd admired her for what she'd done for his sister, had thought she was pretty in passing, but none of that had prepared him for the reality of Marinette in person.

Even blushing and stumbling over her words (and limbs), she was more than pretty – more than cute. She was beautiful, gorgeous, and he quickly realized he ran a real danger of losing himself in eyes colored the blue of the clearest summer sky at sea. His smile was easy and wide, and his cheeks pinched with the effort to keep from smiling wider. She was nervous and fidgety, a bundle of energy as chaotic as his home, and he couldn't help but think she'd fit in perfectly around here. Her voice tripped and stumbled over her words – "Hey, u-uh, my n-name's Mama! Ma-Ma-MARINETTE!" – but was…clear, precise even in its imprecision, and he found himself wishing she would speak more. She trailed off after telling him the groove was waiting for him, and he couldn't help himself. He started chuckling, unable to stop the laughter from bubbling out of his chest.

"Hello, Ma-Ma-Marinette," he laughed, but she made a little noise of discontent that gave him pause. Way to go, Couffaine, he thought bitterly as he saw the frown curling her lips. She thought he was teasing her – which…yeah, he was, but not like that. Not like she thought. Not like she was obviously used to, and that thought didn't sit right with him, either. From what Juleka had told him, Marinette was the type to stand up to bullies. He knew all too well that probably meant she'd experienced her fair share of bullying herself, but to see the way she instantly recoiled from his good-natured ribbing…he was apologizing quickly, trying to think of anything he could say to make it better. There was a lot that could be said, but none of it felt sincere or right, so he found himself reaching for his guitar with a hurried excuse that he made more sense with it instead.

And then he was playing, and inviting her closer, and she hesitantly took a seat beside him. He played her heart, the nervous fluttering and anxious indecision he could hear fighting over a confidence dying to get out. A boldness he wanted to see more of, as much as he wanted to see that soft little smile that curled perfectly pink lips as her hand rested over her heart. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the music he could hear coming from her, even as she got lost in the song he played (or played back, because it was her song, and it was beautiful, and he never wanted it to stop).

"How do you do that?" she asked, sounding wonder-struck as she stared at him. He had to look away under the intensity of that gaze, smiling as he mulled over what he wanted to say.

"Music is often simpler than words," he finally said, missing the way her smile softened as her gaze dropped to his guitar. It was true, really: it was much harder to accidentally insult someone's stutter with a smooth chord progression. Before the silence could become awkward, she was moving to the pick display he kept on his wall, her hand automatically reaching out for the prize of his collection: his Jagged Stone pick. Her eyes darted up to the poster on his wall, and her smile was more natural.

She was calm, relaxed, and in that calm he could hear a high trilling that begged to soar over the confusion. There was something different about this girl, he couldn't help but think. Something special that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but he didn't think he would mind spending more time with her trying to figure it out.

"You like Jagged Stone's music?" she asked, as if that surprised her – and maybe it did. He supposed the song he'd just played her wasn't very rock-n-roll, by Jagged Stone standards, but he was starting to think it had maybe been missing an edge. That something he was still trying to figure out.

"He's my favorite singer," he said, sliding his guitar to his back and hopping off the bed. He moved to her side as she said Jagged was hers, too, but the moment she noticed him standing so close to her the nerves returned. Her hands seemed to spasm, and she was fumbling with the pick as impossibly wide eyes stared up at him like…

…like she thought he'd bite her or something. Weird.

"You can have it if you'd like," he said, trying to sound casual. Her fingers pinched the pick so tightly they blanched, and he tried not to chuckle again. She was adorable, but clearly didn't think so – or at least didn't want him thinking so. Or…ugh. Why did he feel like his IQ was dropping a hundred points around her? "I've got plenty."

…that was a lie. He only had the one, and it was his favorite, but the way she smiled at him made it hard to care. She thanked him, and his heart stuttered at that smile. He had to get out of there – what had brought her below deck again? The…oh, yeah. Rehearsal. The groove.

"I think I better go and join the…" he fought the chuckle, but he couldn't stop the roll of his eyes. He felt so comfortable around her, and it was too easy to slip into the easy banter he'd have with any friend (…but they weren't friends – they didn't even know each other, not really). "…groove, you said?"

And he only regretted it a little (ok a lot), because her face fell as her eyes widened in horror.

"Oh, no," she moaned, slapping her hands to her head like she thought she was stupid and slumping over. She gripped her knees a little too tight, the pick still sticking out between her fingers. "Did I really say that?"

"…you're a funny girl, Marinette," he said. It wasn't a song, but he hoped it would be enough. Enough to apologize for the unintended slight. Enough to let her know he hadn't meant any harm. Enough to…to…he felt her eyes on him as he left the room, and he had to smile as he walked away. That girl was…he wasn't sure yet, but he sincerely hoped she'd stick around a while. He'd love to have the chance to figure out what exactly Ma-Ma-Marinette was.

– V –

The rest of the day was a flurry of activity. Rehearsal didn't go quite as planned: he'd barely gotten a chord out (and blown away a city block's worth of cars – oops) before Officer Roger was theoretically beating down the door and getting in a screaming match with his ma about noise control. Of course she had then been akumatized, and the next thing he knew he was chained to Marinette and thrown in the brig. Marinette had somehow gotten them loose, and he'd helped her escape, and then Ladybug had shown up and saved the day.

Ladybug had helped him up, and before she could say anything he'd asked after Marinette: was she ok? And she was. Safe. She had somehow found Ladybug and told her about his akumatized mother. She was…incredible, he'd thought, awestruck by her bravery.

It wasn't long after that that the magical ladybugs were swarming the city, returning the Liberty to where it was supposed to be moored. Marinette returned almost immediately, and Luka had been more than a little surprised when she'd raced over the gangway and tackled him in a hug. He'd been left momentarily dazed, though he'd been painfully aware of the Looks his sister and Nino's girlfriend – Alya, he thought? – were shooting them, as Marinette had rambled off about how glad she was they were ok, and how she'd found Ladybug, and…

…she was unbelievable. Incredibly brave. He was going to marry her someday.

He seemed to realize what he'd thought at the same time Marinette realized she was still hugging him, and they leapt apart (though for entirely different reasons) in an embarrassed flurry. He watched her, still a little dazed, as her face burned red and she tripped over apologies before her mouth snapped shut and she peeked up at him.

…yeah, he was definitely going to marry her someday.

"I'm…I'm glad you're ok," she finally said, and his smile was easy as he laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

"All thanks to you, Ma-Ma-Marinette," he said with a wink, and this time she didn't seem as annoyed by the gentle teasing. The nickname, he decided. She almost seemed to like it, even. "You're incredible, you know that?"

She just smiled and blushed, but before they could say anything else Juleka was waving him over to the stage. Officer Roger had shown up shortly after Marinette, and after the grudging apologies were made (his ma and Roger had a weird history Luka still wasn't entirely certain about, but by this point in his life he was honestly a little scared to ask) and Nino had made the necessary adjustments to the sound system, the band passed their sound check with flying colors.

…well. Almost.

Officer Roger still thought they were a little too loud, but he was at least willing to let them play.

Rehearsal went great, just like Luka knew it would – even after Nino's best friend Adrien had shown up. Adrien was…a mixed bag, he guessed. The guy seemed genuinely nice, and he was very skilled with the keys – he would be a great addition to the band, if his father would let him join (which, from what the others had been saying all day and the nervous shift of Adrien's eyes when they asked, probably wasn't likely). Luka honestly liked the guy. He seemed ok. But Luka, who had been watching Marinette all day anyway, couldn't help but notice the way her song seemed to hitch at Adrien's arrival. He understood the minor chords a bit better after that, the jumbled confusion he hadn't been able to tangle out earlier.

Marinette was in love with Adrien. He was also pretty sure Adrien…either didn't love her back, not like that, or just…wasn't aware that he did. Or she did. Or…he seemed to be unaware of a lot, actually.

But despite all that, every time Luka's eyes drifted over to her from the stage he found she was watching him with a soft little smile, not Adrien. He didn't want to read too much into that. He was learning Marinette was an incredible girl, and he…he still wanted to marry her someday, if he was honest.

But if she wanted to marry Adrien instead…she was still really cool. He'd consider himself lucky if all he could be was her friend.

– V –

He'd almost forgotten about the pick by the end of the night. He was flying on the high of a great show and new friends – of one new friend in particular. He had kept a respectful distance, wishing to give Marinette the opportunity Alya had clearly orchestrated to hang out with Adrien, but Adrien hadn't stayed long and before Luka realized what was happening Marinette was joining him by the rail, shoving a cold drink in his hand and telling him how great they were. They'd spent most of the night together, talking and laughing and getting to know each other. When Alya had called that it was time to go, she'd shocked the hell out of him by leaning up and kissing his cheek.

"I'm really glad I met you, Luka," she'd told him, eyes glowing in the fairy lights strung above them. "I hope we can be friends."

"…funny," he'd said, wondering if he sounded as bemused as he felt. At her look, he'd dipped his head towards her and raised his eyebrows. "I thought we already were."

She'd giggled, and he'd wanted to compose entire symphonies about that giggle.

"You're a funny boy, Luka," she'd teased, sticking her tongue out at him – and it wasn't fair, what that little gesture did to his heart. She'd bid him goodnight, and he'd watched in a daze as she'd left the boat.

If he'd noticed Juleka's concerned looks, he'd ignored them. She didn't confront him right away, anyway. She'd stayed above deck, talking with Rose and a pink-haired girl from her class – Alix, he thought? – while he'd wandered back to their cabin. He'd face-planted on his bunk (blatantly ignoring the multiple missed messages from his best friend inquiring about the show, the akuma, and whether or not he was ready to quit Kitty Section yet), and that was where she found him maybe an hour later. He could hear Rose in the other room when the door opened, and he assumed she'd be staying the night again.

"Good show today," Juleka said, dropping onto the edge of his bed. He turned his head, flopping it back on his pillow as he grinned at her. She wasn't smiling back. He wondered when she'd stopped smiling: she had been for most of the day, barring the short time their ma had been akumatized. Along with meeting Marinette, it had been his favorite part of the day: how happy Juleka had looked. "Thanks for playing with us, Luka."

"You're my sister," he said. He reached up to flick at her nose. "I'd do anything for you, dummy."

She just hummed and looked at her lap, picking at the hem of her dress. His smile slipped the longer she remained silent.

"Jules?" he asked. "You ok? I thought you had a good day."

"I had a great day," she said. She hesitated before glancing at him, but her heart was racing an unsteady staccato that belied her nerves. Her eyes slipped off of him like water, and then they were darting around the room. Anywhere but him, until they finally landed on his pick collection. Specifically, the empty slot in the top row. If anything, that only seemed to upset her more. "Hey. Where's your Jagged Stone pick?"

…he'd almost forgotten about it, honestly. Sorta. He hadn't forgotten where it had gone, and he definitely hadn't forgotten who had it. He just…hadn't really thought about it in light of everything else that had been happening. But thinking about the pick reminded him of who now owned it, and thinking about Marinette…he was smiling again. He wondered if he'd ever be able to stop.

"Did you know Marinette likes Jagged Stone?" he asked. Juleka looked like she wanted to snort, or roll her eyes, or call him an idiot – but all she did was chew on her lower lip.

"Yeah," she mumbled, dropping her gaze again and kicking at the tatami on his floor. "She...uh…you could say she's a fan. She knows him."

"What?" he asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows. Juleka shrugged.

"That career day we spent working at Le Grand Paris? He was a guest at the hotel, and she ended up being his PA or something," she said. She was picking at his comforter now. "Made those stupid sunglasses he loves so much."

"Dingo loves those things," Luka said, snickering. "He's been trying to find a pair online since Jagged first started wearing them."

Juleka did laugh a little at that, but her smile didn't last.

"She designed the cover for his last album, too," she added. Luka dropped back on his bed, sighing happily as he stared at the empty pick slot.

"That girl is incredible," he said. If he had bothered looking at her, he would have seen that Juleka's frown deepened. She was looking at him again, and she didn't really like what she saw. "We started talking about Jagged, and she saw the pick. I told her she could keep it."

"You what?!" Juleka squawked, and Luka shrugged like it was no big deal. "Luka! That…you…but that's the prize of your collection!"

"It's just a pick, Jules," he said, but he knew she was right.

"It's your favorite pick!" she cried.

"It still is," he said easily. He sighed again, closing his eyes as he remembered the smile on Marinette's face when he'd told her she could keep it. "I love that pick."

He didn't say it like it was the pick he was talking about, and from the way Juleka was watching him he hadn't fooled her in the slightest. She looked back at the empty slot, but he missed the way her hand fisted in his comforter.

"Luka…" she sighed, but he was only half-listening at best. His mind was filled with a swirling melody, a trilling riff with a steady bass. Blue eyes glowing in the moonlight, or what passed for moonlight in the city. Blush-dusted cheeks and a nervous smile. He knew Juleka was annoyed, and he was pretty sure he knew why, but he wasn't ready to face that annoyance yet. He wanted to hold onto this feeling, to hear that song playing, just a little bit longer. "You are such an idiot."