Nino reached into his pocket, and dug past his cell phone for his keys. He felt for the small fox keychain and took hold. He pulled the keys out of his pocket, and expertly slid the small gold key into the lock. He pushed the door open and frowned. Alya was home, but had locked him out. Her shoes and bag next to the door were proof that she had been home for a considerable time. He looked across the small kitchen to Alya's place in the apartment. Her desk. She was sitting there, with headphones pressing into her hair. Why had she locked the door? To make it harder for him to get in? He rolled his eyes. She was a brat.

He set his bag of groceries down, and pulled the receipt from the top of the bag. He smiled, and crumpled it into a ball and threw it at her curly hair. It bounced off and landed lightly on the floor. She turned around briefly glaring, but the glare softened when she realized it was him. He felt his chest puff out, proud that only he could break past Alya's sass.

She smirked a little, "Hey."

"Hey," He grinned at her, "How was your day?"

She shrugged, "Same old."

Nino huffed, "You come back from a trip that you haven't stopped talking about for weeks, and the best answer you have for me is 'Same old'? How is that really an answer?"

Alya laughed, "Don't distract me, I'm in a hurry."

Nino smiled, and started to put the groceries away, "Alright. Alright." He looked to her, and saw that she hadn't put her headphones back on. She was still listening to him. He snickered, "Have you heard?"

Alya turned back to her computer, and shoveled a bite of her pasta into her mouth, barely tasting the cold noodles and meager sauce as she concentrated on her task, "Probably." She typed furiously on her keyboard, hurrying to finish this YouTube post before she moved on to updating her supernatural blog. Her viewers were waiting. She was super jazzed to post about her latest trip to the haunted mansion in southern France that her viewers had recommended to her. It had been a thrill ride like none other. They were going to eat it up. Then after that she had to update Nino's website and call Marinette.

Nino laughed, "Yeah, I guess there isn't much that gets by you, is there?"

She swallowed the half-chewed bite, "Nope. What do I already know about?"

Nino smiled, "About Ladybug and Chat Noir."

Alya stopped typing. She dropped her fork back into the plastic container she was calling a bowl, and swallowed her half chewed bite of pasta. She turned in her swivel chair and looked at Nino with an unimpressed face. Her viewers could wait. She needed to make sure her fiancee was firing on all cylinders. Did she know about Chat Noir and Ladybug? Was that even a question? She raised an eyebrow, "Ni, everyone in France knows about Ladybug and Chat Noir. They were famous heroes. They saved Paris. I am Ladybug's biggest fan. Of course I know about them. Are you feeling okay?"

Nino raised an eyebrow back, "Then I'll take it that you don't really know."

Alya glared, "Know what?"

Nino stood for a moment, smug in the realization that he knew something about Ladybug and Chat Noir that Alya did not. Alya stood up from her chair and started to walk over to him. Nino laughed, and put his hands up, "Okay, okay I'll tell you. Ladybug and Chat Noir were seen at Paris Fashion Week. They saved a group of party-goers from an Akumized model who got kicked out of a party. She called herself Party Crasher."

Alya raced back to her computer, ignoring Nino, and pulled up her favorite search engine. Before the page could finish loading she had opened at least ten tabs about the event. There was a lot of buzz about it. Alya looked at Nino.

"Ni, how did I not know about this?" She was pale.

Nino laughed, "You've been in Southern France for two weeks. You have been exploring that haunted mansion. That's why I brought it up. I didn't want you to be too far behind in the latest news of your favorite hero."

Alya jumped up, and ran to Nino. She put her hands on either side of his face, and kissed him square on the mouth. She pulled back and smiled at him, "You're the best 'almost husband' a girl could ask for. I have work to do." She kissed him one more time, and returned to her computer. She her headphones on, signaling that she was diving into her world, and was not to be bothered.

Nino sighed and rolled his eyes. So much for his plans to convince Alya to watch an old movie and snuggle on the couch. He would have to try again another time. He should have known better than to try to distract her right after she got back from a trip. And then he was good enough to tell her about her favorite heroes. He made his way to the kitchen, deciding that he could make dinner, even though Alya would not be eating it until she was satisfied with her research and blog updating. He would eat by himself again, and then finish his own work before he would check on her again.

The first thing that Alya did was put on Nino's headphones. The headphones that he had worn around his neck for their middle school and high school years where now Alya's favorite possession. She never took them out of the apartment, for fear that she would lose them, but she wore them almost as much as Nino had. She set them on her ears, and turned on her screens. She pulled up her music, and selected her favorite playlist. The next thing she did was log into the Ladyblog. There were thousands of hits to her site, hopeful people looking for the details of the Akuma attack. Alya frowned, but didn't let the missed sighting keep her down. She typed out a quick update about missing the return of her favorite heroes and promised to herself and to her followers that she would not miss another occurrence. She would temporarily shut down her other blogs and rededicate herself to the Ladyblog. There was so much research to be done. There were so many questions to answer.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had been gone for almost a decade. Just over seven years ago, they had stopped showing up. There had been no akuma attacks since then, and no appearance of Chat Noir or Ladybug after that final patrol. Where had Ladybug and Chat Noir been for the past seven years? How did two people, two fantastic people, just disappear? Were they still in Paris? Still in France? What did two superheros do as average citizens? Where did two courageous and selfless people go? How do you give up a life like that? She was determined to answer these questions.

She set to working on digging up any information she could. She sifted through news and blurry YouTube videos both of the newest sighting and last sighting seven years ago. There was so little information. Bad camera angles and unsteady hands left her with blurred streaks of color instead of full shots of the famed heroes. There were theories galore. People were speculating about every detail of the videos and about where the heroes had been. Alya would wait until there was more evidence and facts available before posting anything on the Ladyblog. When she finally decided to take a break for the day, it was nearly three in the morning.

Alya sighed, and stretched in her chair. She looked around. Nino was asleep on the couch. Her serving of dinner was under a bowl on the counter. She smiled. She was so lucky to have Nino. She smiled as she picked at the plate of food. She had Ladybug to thank for Nino too. If she hadn't gotten stuck in the Zoo with Nino that day she would have never have even given him the time of day. But here she was, living with him just outside of Paris in a small apartment just big enough for them and all of their expensive equipment. They were getting married in a few short months, and they were happy. Their apartment was proof of that. Alya's equipment took up most of the dining room area. She had cables and cameras and bags full of straps and gadgets sitting all over the place. Charging ports and uploading software and hardware. Two computers with multiple monitors and a professional microphone and recording system set up for her vlogging use. She also had boxes and boxes of research and reports for every subject she was interested in, and those she was paid to have an interest in.

In the living room, Nino had all of his equipment spread out. Turntables and soundboards sat on tables and he had two large screens that displayed all of his musical input. Microphones and recording equipment as well as a filing cabinet full of projects. Their apartment was a busy place with just the two of them. He promoted her blogs and YouTube Channels as well as offered advice about her videography, and in return she did all of the management and upkeep of his Website, as well as Marinette's Fashion Website and a few others. It was rewarding to help the people she loved most.

There was also a pile of invitations to her wedding that she needed to label and send, but she didn't want to. She wanted to get on the computer and research. She wanted to know what happened to Chat Noir and Ladybug. She yawned. Or maybe she wanted to curl up next to Nino and deal with her problems in the morning. She caved, and made her way to the couch, and grabbed a blanket before she turned off the light and snuggled up against Nino. Yep, this was what she wanted. To be with Nino. The blogs and the videos and even Marinette could wait.

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Marinette groaned as she hit the hard mat. Again. They were supposed to offer protection from the hard floor, but when she hit the floor going that fast, she wasn't really sure it did much. She pushed herself up from the floor and turned to the man standing across from her. He was easily twice her size in body mass, and at least ten centimeters taller. She cursed her Chinese genes for her height.

"Again." Marinette gritted her teeth. Sweat dripped from her temples and beaded on the skin of her arms and chest. She could feel the cool air from the open window on her bare shoulder blades, and also the scratch that the plastic knife had left on her skin. She would not stop until she felt she could be safe without hurting someone else. She would not stop until she couldn't keep going. She would hone her skills until she was lethal and calm in every situation. She never wanted to be out of control.

"Marinette," Her instructor pleaded.

Marinette help up a hand, "No, I felt that thing touch me." She pointed at the practice blade that they used to hone her reflexes, "If that had been a real blade I would be dead. Or, at least seriously injured. We go until I can knock the knife from your hand, and knock you to the ground before you know it." She huffed, and set her hands on her hips, "Come on, I don't pay you to coddle me."

He smiled back at her, "I don't coddle you. You're naturally talented. Pushing yourself too hard will only hurt you, not make you stronger."

She sighed, and wiped her forehead with her armband, "I know. I just have a lot of steam to blow off, ya know? I've had a hard week." She leaned over.

He laughed, "A hard life of fabric and needles?"

She faked a laugh back at him, "Actually," she kicked a piece of equipment, "I quit my job and moved in with my parents. I have no plan and no job and no idea what I'm going to do."

"That sounds rough." he nodded, "Perhaps a run will clear your mind and help you cool down from nearly breaking my arm. I will race you around the park twice. If you win we will continue. If I win we will stop."

Marinette held out her hand, "Renaldo, you drive a hard bargain, but you're on."

They ended up sparring for another hour before Marinette caved and accepted that she couldn't just fight all of her problems away. She left Renaldo's studio with quite a few bruises and scrapes. She would be sore in the morning. It was worth it.

After only a couple of years as Ladybug, Marinette had found that running her body to its limits and testing her skills as a fighter was oddly calming. It kept her fit and focused, and it made her feel safe and prepared for any situation. It kept her mind clear, and helped her channel her anger. Within weeks of putting her suit away, she had enrolled herself in yoga and self defense classes. Renaldo had become one of her favorites. He had been making weekly trips out to see her, but lived in Paris. Now that they were closer to each other, she could train with him more often. Renaldo had also become something of a brother to her. He was kind but also ruthless in his training. Marinette was grateful. Thanks to his stellar training she was a well oiled machine of power and strength. And thanks to her personal training, she didn't look very intimidating. She was strong but lean, and small but fast. She was a force to be reckoned with if given the chance. Her reflexes and shear strength were even more than Renaldo knew. She used almost none of her true strength with him, and trained mostly for speed and accuracy.

She trained for strength on her own, where she lifted weights that a person her size should not be able to lift. She was, afterall, a superhero even without the suit. And a perk of her secret identity is that she was stronger than should be possible. It was hard to hold punches and pull kicks when all she really wanted was to lash out sometimes. She took a deep breath.

Her body was a weapon. But not for destruction. For protection of herself and others. She would not lash out. She would walk home in the cool of spring in Paris, and she would be okay. She thought about instead how much more useful she would be as an older Ladybug. She blinked with realization. With her training and focus she would be more than twice the hero she was as girl. She smiled to herself. She was pretty badass. She looked at her watch. She sighed. She was also late. She broke into a run. The relaxing walk would have to wait.

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Adrien sighed as he got back in his newly acquired car. Truck. The large, loud monstrosity was not a car, it was a beast, and it was growing on him. It felt real and solid when he drove it, not like the fancy sport and show cars his father normally let him drive, if his father let him drive at all. They were fast, but seemed fragile. Like one wrong turn or using the wrong blinker light would break everything. This truck felt sturdy and reliable, even if it didn't drive as smooth or as fast as the other vehicles did.

He looked back at the apartment complex, and set his head on the steering wheel. Another failed attempt to find a place to live. He didn't think he was being that unreasonable. He wanted a tiny space for just him. Trying to find somewhere to live was proving to be harder than he had thought. He had tried a few places with promises of small space and reasonable prices only to find that they were overpriced for what they offered, or offered more than what he needed. He didn't need much space. He didn't have much. He didn't want much. He'd been searching for the whole day, and had so far had little to no success.

He felt that maybe his choice to leave everything so suddenly wasn't the best thing he could have done. He frowned. How could he think such a thing? He preferred anything over his jailbird days of living with his father. He would even sleep in this truck if he needed to. He settled back into his seat and started the beast. He drove up and down a few streets, trying to think of his next move, before he decided to stop for something to eat. Surely a snack would provide clarity and clarity would help him have a direction.

He spotted a small bakery across the street. Perfect. He parked his car, and walked into the small bakery. How lucky that he'd seen it. It smelled divine, like sugar and warm dough.

It was a sweet and quaint little place, and somehow familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on why it would be familiar. He looked at the menu for a moment before a sweet voice called to him. He turned to see a red haired girl at the counter.

"Bonjour, Monsieur. What can we make for you today?" She was pretty, but plain, and she smiled at him from behind the counter. She had soft looking brown eyes and a pointed nose. She seemed sweet. Adrien was glad he didn't scream or drool over him at first sight.

Adrien smiled, "Bonjour. I would like, uh," he looked up at the menu, then smiled shyly, and looked at the girl, "What is your favorite thing on the menu, Mademoiselle?"

The girl blinked, and pushed her hair behind her small ear, "Uh, I am partial to the cinnamon rolls, but we also have a large selection of bagels and homemade cream cheese which are popular with many customers."

Adrien hummed, "Then I'll take one of each. One cinnamon roll, and one bagel with your favorite flavor of cream cheese, Miss."

The girl behind the counter smiled bashfully, and entered his order in the register, he paid her, and she took a piece of paper back with her while she prepared his order. He looked around the small bakery. It was filled with pictures and a few magazines. A small table and two chairs sat in the lobby area. The back wall was filled with baked goods of all kinds. Adrien wished his stomach was big enough to eat all of them. He'd been restricted from too many sweets or too many carbohydrates all his life. They called to him now. The red haired girl walked to him holding a bag, rolled on the top with a sticker to hold it closed.

"Your order, Sir." She hummed.

He took it from her gently, "Thank you. Have a nice day."

She waved at him as he left the shop, and hopped back in his large truck.

He ripped the sticker in half and pulled out the bagel. He took a bite, and couldn't keep the smile off his face. After a life of strict diets and calorie restrictions, guilt free bread tasted so much better than he thought it would. He pulled out his phone and ran a search for available apartments near this adorable bakery. He took another bite and almost choked. There was an ad for a unit just across the way. He smiled, and drove quickly around to the address. He shoved the rest of the bagel in his mouth and decided to save the cinnamon roll for later. If he got the apartment, he would eat it as a celebration. If he didn't, he would eat it to console himself.

He walked up to the complex and resisted the urge to sign papers on what his father's reaction would be alone. The complex was obviously older, and in need of repair that no one was willing to give. The units were sure to be small, uncomfortably so, and poorly furnished, if they were furnished at all. He probably would have to share a bathroom with multiple rooms. He walked in the front doors, hoping that this place truly had an opening.

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Marinette raced into the bakery and slammed her hands down on the cashier's desk. Haley jumped back with a small shriek. Marinette sighed, "I'm so sorry. Is my dad here?"

Haley pointed to the kitchen, and Marinette bowed a little before racing past Haley and into the kitchen. She huffed, and sat down on a stool, "I'm so sorry I'm late Papa."

Tom turned around, and wiped his hands on his apron. He smiled at her, "It's alright, my dear. I hope whatever kept you was worth it. Besides, you asked to speak to me. I'm in no hurry. I have no stress."

Marinette smiled, "I know, but it was still kinda rude of me to say I would be here and then I'm late."

"There is nothing to worry about. What did you want to talk about?"

Marinette twisted her fingers together, and then smiled at her dad, "I was thinking that I would like to help out around here. I feel bad just sitting around. I know that you and Mama said that I wasn't a burden, but I feel a little useless. So, I was wondering if while I try to find something else, would you mind showing me a few things about baking? I would love to learn to frost cakes and decorate cookies and to make bread." Marinette looked at her dad sheepishly, then she blushed, "Or even if you'd like me to just run the register, I would do it. But I'm going to lose my sanity if I don't have something to do."

He was grinning from ear to ear, "Of course, Mon Chou! I would love nothing more than to pass the family art along. Come we'll start now. I've just started getting ready to make a batch of cookies for a wedding."

Marinette beamed, and grabbed the spare apron off of the hook. She jumped up and kissed her father on the cheek, "Thank you, Papa."

Tom laughed, and handed marinette a whisk, "Are you ready for this?"

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Adrien looked down at the piece of paper and set of keys in his hand. He'd done it. He'd found a place to live, and he loved it. It was just as he had predicted. It was run down, out of date, and poorly maintained. His apartment was three floors up, there was no elevator, and it was next to the boiler. The owner had warned him that it would be loud, but Adrien didn't care. He raced up the stairs and into the small space. His unit came with a card table and an old bed frame with an ancient mattress. It was perfect. Small, comfy, and just enough space for him and Plagg. He set his suitcase on his bed, and pulled out his meager belongings. He put them away the best he could, and sat down in the folding chair that sat next to the card table. He'd never felt more free, or more at home.

He would need a few things, like a vacuum and maybe some bed bug protective mattress covers. He could walk to the local market later. For now, he was content to be free.

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Andrew sat at his desk, flipping through the pages of three file folders full of information on the applicants for Marinette's old job, Head Designer for Square. Among the candidates was Alyssandra, who had been turned down for the job twice now. Her portfolio sat across his desk, drawings and sketches covering the heavy paper of the pages. She had talent, but she lacked the drive and spark that he was looking for. She would maintain the company's reputation, but she wouldn't help them grow.

The next on his list was a girl from a different company, that his boss had recommended. It was obvious that she was the choice of the higher ups, but Andrew wasn't sure. She had vision, but had a poor respect for authority. She had told Andrew during her first interview that she expected to have his job within a year of being hired. Andrew was not sure that was what he wanted to hear when he'd asked for a little ambition. Her portfolio was rigid and not very creative. She would probably not get the job.

The last candidate was his newest employee, Briene. She was sweet and shy, but had really stepped up to the challenge of helping manage the company's design demands since Marinette had walked out. She was new, and didn't have much experience. She didn't shine the way Marinette had, but she had potential. She was smart, beautiful and young. Her portfolio was full of plain ideas, but her sketchbook was full of ambitious and beautiful designs. Andrew should pick the reasonable choice, and hire Alyssandra as the new Head Designer, but he didn't want to be that close with Alyssandra.

He closed all of the file folders and looked at then three stacks of portfolios and papers on his desk. He would get an earful from Alyssandra, but he was going to promote Briene to Head Designer. He picked up the phone and dialed her number.

She picked up quickly, "Y-yes? This is Briene at Square Designs."

Andrew smiled, "Briene, Chérie. This is Andrew. Will you come to my office?"

She stuttered, and then responded, "Y-yes, Sir. I'll, uh, be right there."

Andrew set the receiver back down and readied himself.

A few moments later Briene walked into his office and smiled, "You asked to see me, Sir?" She pulled at her skirt.

Andrew gestured to the seat across from him, "Please sit."

She hurried to the chair and tucked her skirt under her legs before sitting lightly in the chair. She looked at him shyly, "Sir?"

Andrew beamed, "Miss Briene. I have decided to promote you to Head Designer for Square. Congratulations."

Briene paled, "Mister Gris, are you sure? Alyssandra is much more talented than I am. Surely you don't intend to pass her over again for a job she has worked for. I mean, I didn't really think that I would get the job, but I also thought that maybe being brave would show that I am willing, so when the time for an advancement came I would be ready. I mean I asked Marinette, and she told me to go for it, so I did, but I didn't think." She blushed, "Oh I'm sorry."

Andrew laughed, "You are similar to Miss Cheng. And I'm glad you applied. I think you have what we are looking for. You are so full of potential."

"Th-thank you, Sir." Briene smiled and pushed her short hair behind her ear.

"I will announce you at the Morning Meeting on Monday. After that, you will be moving to Marinette's old office, and I will set up time with you to go over your responsibilities. Until then, keep it quiet. I don't want too much trouble." he winked at her, "Understand?"

She smiled, "Yes, Sir."

"Oh," he pointed at her, "And no need to call me 'Sir'. You can call me Andrew."

"A-andrew." She tried, and then blushed, "I understand."

He grabbed her things from his desk and handed them to her. She stood and took them from him. He pointed to the door, "You're free to go, and congratulations again."

Briene nodded and bowed a bit before taking her things back to her office. She passed Alyssandra on the way back. The blonde huffed, and looked at her with disapproving eyes.

"So you didn't get the promotion, did you? Serves you right for even trying." She scoffed and kept walking.

Briene tried to keep the smile off her face. Alyssandra didn't know.

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Andrew watched Briene leave, and felt a pang of loneliness in his chest. He missed Marinette. While it was true that he didn't have feelings for the girl in a romantic way, he still thought of her as a close friend. And, she was a talented designer.

She hadn't spoken to him, answered any of his phone calls or text messages since she'd walked out. He wasn't really sure why she had left in the first place, but he was certainly surprised and sad to see her go. There was a knock on the door.

Andrew sighed, Alyssandra was at his door, and he would have to listen to her whine about the promotion.

He smiled his best, most charming, most forced smile, "Come in."

Alyssandra threw the door open, and flipped her hair behind her shoulder, "Monsieur Gris, I'm so glad that we have this chance to talk. Before you say anything, I just want to say that you have done a fantastic job of running this company without a Head Designer."

Andrew gestured for her to sit, "Thank you, Alyssandra."

She sat down gracefully, like one fluid movement from standing to sitting, "What would you like to speak about, Sir?"

Andrew sighed, "Miss Alyssandra, I would like to thank you for putting in your application for the role of Head Designer. You have certainly paid your dues to this company, and worked hard to achieve what you have. You are talented and competitive, and I admire those things about you."

Alyssandra smiled wide, accepting his praise, "Thank you, Sir."

"However," he started, and watched as her face fell, "Myself and the board have decided that someone else fits the role of Head Designer. Please do not think that this is a reflection on you or your portfolio. The decision was a difficult one. You are still a valued member of this team."

Alyssandra stood up and glared, "How dare you? I have worked hard to rise to the top of this company. What about me or my portfolio wasn't good enough?"

Andrew sighed, "It's not that you or your portfolio wasn't good enough. The board selected another candidate based on the company plan and projected business layout in the coming months. Another candidate fit that role."

How dare he pass her up for a promotion again? First to a less talented designer, then to that Marinette girl, and now for a designer she didn't even know!

"Who?" She gritted her teeth.

"I will reveal the new Head Designer on Monday. Until then, all you need to know is that we appreciate your application, but have chosen someone else for the role." Andrew smiled at her.

Alyssandra nodded and grabbed her things and stormed out of his office. She slammed the door and stomped her way back to her office. She threw her things on her desk, knocking over her pen holder and moving the mouse of her computer, making the screen spring to life.

"I can't believe this! How dare he!? I am the most senior designer in this whole company. That position should be MINE!" She howled and stomped her foot.

"That's the spirit. It's not fair when we have something we've worked so hard for taken away from us, now is it, my dear?" A voice hummed.

"Benjamin, if this is another intercom joke I swear…"

"No, my dear. My name is La Papillon. I can give you the power to do whatever you'd like." The voice was warm and soothing.

Alyssandra hummed, "Whatever I'd like? I want to be Head Designer. Can you do that?"

The voice chuckled, "My dear," her vision turned a light purple color, "Your wish is my command. I shall grant you the power to become Head Designer. In return, you must do something for me."

Alyssandra frowned, "What?"

"Oh it's not hard. I need you to bring me the miraculous stones of those two petty heroes. They call themselves Ladybug and Chat Noir. Can you do that for me?"

Alyssandra hummed, "Be Head Designer and the villain that takes down those two vigilante losers? Sounds like we've got ourselves a deal," she paused, and smiled sweetly, "My Dear La Papillon."

"Excellent," he laughed, "Then I give you the name of Fashion Disaster. Go and get the miraculous stones, and your revenge, my dear."

"Your wish is my command." She grinned.