Marinette slid the baking tray into the oven, watching to make sure the perfectly filled cupcake tins didn't spill over. With more of a sense of triumph than she ever thought she could have about cupcake batter, she closed the door to the oven, and darted back out into the main cafe, to see a small line had formed.
"Welcome to the Boulangerie Patisserie, what can we get started for you this morning?" She warmly greeted the first customer in line.
She was a larger woman with a tailored suit jacket and very professional looking pencil skirt, but despite her serious looking clothes, she cheerily answered, "I just adore the cinnamon rolls here. And you have the best eclairs I have ever had the pleasure of tasting. I'm on my way to work, and I don't have much time, but if you can spare them, I would love to bring two dozen of your cinnamon rolls and two dozen of your eclairs to my morning meeting. If you don't have them on hand, I will try another time, but I stopped in, feeling hopeful."
Marinette beamed, feeling a little grateful that she ran the bakery with her father, and therefore knew exactly how many of every delectable dessert, bread, and confection was in the store at any given time. This woman was in luck. Marinette punched a few buttons on the register, "Today is your lucky day, Madame. We just had a batch of cinnamon rolls come fresh out of the oven. And, we have fresh eclairs from last night in the fridge."
The woman brightened, "Oh really? How divine. I'll take them. How much?" she slid a bright red card from her wallet.
Marinette smiled, "The total should be showing there," she pointed at the credit card reader, "on the large screen."
The woman looked shocked, "That can't be right."
Marinette paled. She was used to customers being upset over prices, but that didn't mean she liked it. And with this woman she was probably going to lose the sale.
"I'm sorry, miss?" She hummed, "Does everything look alright?"
"Yes, there are two dozen of my favorite treats here, but is that truly the right price? So low, for such quality. Surely, you deserve more." She looked at Marinette.
Marinette felt her shoulders relax, "No ma'am. The price you see on the screen is the correct price. We offer a small discount on large purchases. So the more you buy the more you save. Will that be all for you?"
"For this time, yes. But next time I shall have to call ahead and special order all of my meeting snacks. A large box of cookies perhaps, or a light morning tea-cake." She smiled, "But for now just the cinnamon rolls and the eclairs." She swiped the card, and the machine made a joyful beep, letting her know the transaction when through.
"Wonderful," Marinette smiled, "Let me go box up your things, and I'll be back in a flash." Marinette pulled the receipt from the printer and handed it to the woman.
She took it and stepped off to the side, fiddling with her wallet to put her card and receipt in their correct places. The next customer stepped up to the register. Marinette bowed lightly.
"I'll be right back, Monsieur. Two minutes at the most."
He nodded and Marinette turned and raced back into the kitchen, expertly putting on a pair of latex-free rubber gloves before popping together four pastry boxes. The black boxes with the gold trim and the insignia of the bakery waited, like hungry children with open mouths to be filled with piping hot treats.
Marinette quickly filled two of the boxes with cinnamon rolls, one dozen per box, and poured a little extra warm frosting on the tops. The steam from the fresh rolls filled the box and fogged up the clear cellophane cover. Marinette closed the box with a golden sticker, and removed her sticky gloves. She then moved to the fridge, and slid open the drawer that held the eclairs. She plucked them out of their spots with her delicate tongs, and lined them up in the boxes. Again she sealed each box with a golden sticker, and set them on the counter. She hung the tongs and pulled a large paper bag with sturdy handles down from a shelf, and neatly stacked the four boxes into the bag. She tied the handles together with a piece of gold ribbon, and walked back out into the cafe.
She set down the bag, "Your treats, Madame."
"Oh," the lady beamed, "I'm just tickled that you had enough. This is truly my favorite bakery." She picked up the bag, "This is not the last you will see of me, I promise."
Marinette waved, "I hope not. Have a wonderful day."
She stepped back to the register to greet the next customer, "What can I make for you, Sir? A muffin? A cinnamon roll? Hot tea?"
"Coffee. Black. Thank you." He looked at her sternly.
"Yes. What size?"
"Whatever the middle size is." He hummed.
"Perfect. Your total is on the screen, you can swipe your card when you're ready." She turned from the register and fired up the coffee machine. She grabbed a cup and a sleeve from the stack and held the cup under the spout. She held down the lever, and waited for the perfect moment to stop. She snapped a lid and a golden sticker on the cup, and turned back to the man, holding it out for him, "Here you are sir."
He took it from her, "Thank you."
"You're welcome. And your receipt." She pulled the small paper from the printer and the man took it from her swiftly. He turned and walked out just as fast.
Marinette put her hands on her hips, "I hope that delicious coffee brightens your mood, Sir." She stuck out her tongue. She looked down at the register buttons. They were filthy. She reached for a cloth, and sprayed the buttons with cleaner.
The door to the bakery chimed, and she smiled, but didn't look up from her task, "Welcome to the Boulangerie Patisserie, what can we start for you?"
Marinette tossed the cloth in the trash, and looked up to see Adrien smiling at her.
She beamed, "Adrien. How nice to see you again. Back again for more muffins?" she raised an eyebrow at him.
Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm afraid I might have a bit of a problem with the muffins here. They are just so rich and sweet." He held up a hand to his mouth and looked around suspiciously before whispering to Marinette, "What do you put in them?"
Marinette laughed, "Two muffins it is. Goodness, what would your manager say if they knew you had a," she copied his gesture, putting her hand to her mouth, "a muffin addiction?"
Adrien laughed this time, "It doesn't much bother me what they would say. Since I'm not a model anymore, no one can tell me what not to eat."
Marinette stopped and looked at him, "Really? You're done?"
Adrien smiled, "I've found something I like even more than being adored by people I don't know and wearing clothes that don't quite fit right." He raised his eyebrows, "Living away from my father, serving the people of Paris, and muffins."
"Alright, alright. Muffins. I got it." Marinette laughed, "Anything else for you?"
"A Coffee." He beamed.
Marinette hummed, "And what kind of coffee would you like, Monsieur?"
Adrien set his hand to his chin, looking thoughtful. Marinette raised an eyebrow. The gesture seemed familiar somehow, but she couldn't place it. Then he looked down at Marinette, "What is your favorite coffee?"
Marinette sighed, "I don't much care for coffee, but I do have quite a love for tea."
Adrien sighed, "You don't like coffee? Have you ever even lived?"
"I have." She grinned.
"Well, I'll just have to pick my own coffee. I can't take any recommendation from a tea-drinker about coffee seriously." He winked at her, and she smiled. He pointed at the menu, "I'll try the caramel espresso."
Marinette ignored the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach, and typed in the register, "Two muffins, and a caramel espresso it is." She hit the final sale button and turned to the coffee machine to make Adrien's order.
There was a moment of silence, and Adrien swiped his card through the reader. It made a small beeping sound before a smiling face told him the transaction had been approved. He smiled. He looked up at Marinette moving around the small space for a moment longer before he spoke up again, "So do you like working here in the bakery then? I mean, it must be nice to be home. But, do you enjoy what you do?"
Marinette blinked, surprised by his conversationalism, "I do. It's different from my fast-paced life of being a world famous designer, but I like that the cafe feels like an extension of my home, and the feeling of home." She held down the lever, "And it's small. I like how cozy it is here. I am not yet the world's best baker, but my father has high hopes for me."
"How enchanting." Adrien muttered, as he shoved his wallet into his back pocket.
"What about you?" Marinette offered, "What are you up to now that you're not the heartthrob of the french female populous?" She snapped the lid onto the coffee cup.
Adrien hummed, and leaned on the counter, "I am in training to become a police officer, actually." He tried to sound proud in the choice, but his voice still wavered. Marinette must not have caught it though, since she only smiled at him.
"That's wonderful. Do you like it?" She asked while retrieving his muffins from the warmer, and putting them into the paper bag.
Adrien sighed, "Surprisingly, I do. I like feeling like everyone else, or rather, that my looks and my family don't earn me any special treatment or exclude me from consequences."
Marinette hummed, and set his coffee and muffins down on the counter before him, "I can understand that. It must have been hard for you after you went back to private tutoring. We missed you, you know. In school."
Adrien sighed, "I missed the illusion of freedom." he shrugged his shoulders and straightened, grabbing his coffee and muffins, "And having friends."
Marinette looked up at him with sad, surprised eyes.
Before she could comment he looked at his watch, "I have to go." he smiled at her, "But I'll be back tomorrow for more coffee and muffins." He waved, holding up his paper bag, "See you later, Marinette."
She waved, a little dazed, "Later."
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"You're kidding." Alya's voice rang through the speaker of Marinette's phone.
Marinette threw some chocolate chips into the mixer, and laughed as Tikki flew down to steal one before it made it into the large bowl, "No I'm not, Alya. Adrien has come into my bakery three days in a row now. And today he told me that he's going to be a police officer."
"That can't have been a choice his dad made for him." Alya mused.
"Alya," Marinette huffed, "You can't assume that Gabriel really dictated all of his son's life. Adrien surely must have made some of his own choices."
"Yeah," Alya sassed her, "Like the choice to leave modeling and break up with his super hot american girlfriend. Who, by the way, roasted him like a marshmallow lost to the coals of a campfire. Hell hath no fury, I guess."
"That sounds harsh." Marinette added a few more ingredients to the batch.
"Harsh and truth usually go hand in hand, my friend. Besides, this is only good news for you. Adrien is out of modeling, you're out of fashion, and the universe has brought you two back together. It's almost as miraculous as Ladybug and Chat Noir coming back. You should ask him on a date." Alya suggested.
"Come on." Marinette groaned, "I gave up on Adrien a long time ago. And he wouldn't give me a second glance in school. I can't hold a candle for someone who barely noticed I existed. Hold on for a sec, I have to turn on the mixer." Marinette flipped the switch on, and then back off quickly, "Sorry."
"No worries, girl. And, don't give me that. I simply can't believe that Adrien is only coming in for the cinnamon rolls if you know what I mean." Alya laughed.
"He doesn't come in for cinnamon rolls, he comes in for muffins. And caramel coffee." Marinette corrected her over-excited best friend.
"Okay, okay, I respect that you don't want to date him. But Nette, even if you're over him romantically, you could use more friends than just me and Nino. It's not that we don't care about you, or that we don't want you with us. That's not it at all. You're our best girl, and the person we care about most. Me more than Nino, obviously. But, we don't really get to see you very often. If you have a chance to find a friend in Adrien, it would probably be good for both of you."
Marinette sighed, and poured the mixture out of the bowl and into the pan, "I know. I just. I'm done with boy crazy, stupid Marinette who only gets herself in trouble. I can't afford to get into any more trouble."
Alya laughed, "I don't think you could stay out of trouble if you tried."
Marinette groaned, "I wish you weren't right."
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Adrien bounced through the door of the bakery, "Good morning. I'm sure you're surprised to see me." He laughed at himself.
Marinette laughed back, surprised that he seemed so easy going and cheerful all the time, "Good morning. Welcome to the Boulangerie Patisserie. What will it be for you today?"
"Two muffins, and a caramel espresso, please." He smiled.
Marinette pressed a few buttons on the register, and then turned to the coffee machine.
"You know," Adrien hummed, and swiped his card, "For a girl who doesn't like coffee, you're a pretty talented barista. I've never had such a wonderful caramel espresso in all my life. You should try it sometime."
"I don't make the coffee, I just pour it into the cups. My deeply french father brews all the coffee. I just add in the extras." Marinette smiled, "Besides, I've been making this particular drink every day for the last two weeks. You know what they say, practice makes perfect." She shot him a sassy look.
Adrien beamed, "What can I say? I'm addicted."
"Well," Marinette set down his bag and a brand new reusable coffee mug with the bakery's insignia on it, "They say friends shouldn't fuel your addictions, but friends also don't let friends who drink coffee pay for a paper cup every time. Happy Thursday, Adrien Agreste."
Adrien looked down at the tumbler. It was simple. Just black, heat resistant plastic around what was probably a metal insulator, with a dark gold rubber sleeve around it to keep his fingers from getting burned. He picked it up and looked at it. He set it back down on the counter, looking at Marinette with a serious face, "I can't accept this."
Marinette smiled, and pushed it back across the counter along with his bag, "Friends also don't turn down gifts from friends, Mister Agreste."
Adrien eyed her for a moment, then picked up the mug. He smiled a smile that made Marinette feel a little lighter, "Then as a friend, I shall cherish it."
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Ladybug flopped down into the grass, "I'm getting tired of this. Every time we turn around it's another akuma. Another plot. Another day in the life of heroes I guess."
"I'm surprised that La Papillon hasn't come after us himself." Chat Noir sat next to her.
She sighed, "Maybe we should quit. I have a normal life outside of my suit. What does La Papillon do, sit around and wait for any person to think negatively. Who has that kind of time? Not me."
"Maybe he's super rich." Chat Noir offered.
Ladybug groaned, "And maybe we should just leave. Someone else can save Paris for once. Like the police. They can have my yo-yo."
Chat Noir shot her a sly glance, "Are you saying you want to run away with me?"
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"I thought you were in love with Ladybug." Plagg huffed.
Adrien glared, "You aren't even listening. I'm not saying that I'm in love with Marinette. I'm just saying she's not like I remember her."
"You've been talking about her for the last hour. I have tried not to listen." Plagg sighed, "Going on and on about how pretty she is and how charming her smile is and how great she is at making coffee. I need cheese." Plagg disappeared into the small fridge that Adrien kept full of camembert cheese. He reappeared with a full wedge in his mouth.
Adrien groaned, "I'm just trying to point out that she's like a whole different person. I don't think she said more that like five sentences to me when we were in school together. I mean, she was nice and sweet. But she was always so painfully shy. I thought for sure that I just made her nervous. And now I meet her in a bakery and she's sassy and clever. I need to know if she's always been like that."
"I think that maybe you like her." Plagg yawned, and settled in to eat his cheese.
"I do." Adrien agreed, then corrected himself, "As a friend." He turned away from Plagg, and looked at his pile of homework from the precinct. It was supposed to be fairly manageable, but he always seemed to have something better to do, like saving the city from the akuma, or making up excuses for why he was late to everything, and giving up his muffins to Cherlie to apologize. And there was always his tireless efforts to win the affection of his Lady. Then when he came home, he had to finish his police training, since he missed a good portion when everyone else was there, and he was off saving Paris.
Plagg sighed, "Whatever, kid."
Adrien rolled his eyes, and flipped open his laptop. Adrien turned on his music, hoping that the soft vibes would help him focus, and looked down at all of the papers he needed to finish filling out. His name and emergency contact information, which he didn't really have. His address and work history. Filing for a permit was a lot more paperwork than he'd thought it would be. But he needed one in order to carry a weapon.
Speaking of weapons, he had an exam in the morning and he needed to know all of the types of guns and firearms that he could encounter on the job. He would have to assemble and reassemble several different kinds of weapons, and would be graded on his speed and accuracy. On top of that, he had a mountain of fake reports to go through. He was to rank them in order from highest to lowest risk, and then write up a plan of what he would do with the files after they had been sorted. He also had several training videos to watch that were meant to help hone his visual agility. He needed to be able to remember details and to report them accurately.
He rolled his eyes. If Cherlie only knew how good his vision really was.
He also had a stack of fake case files that he was supposed to be filling out. They gave him scenarios and he was to fill out and make a file to pass on, as if he were passing the case along to another officer. They were due in the morning. He was going to be up all night.
And then there was Bellamy and Rondel. They were counting on him for their group presentation on personal defense. Passing off basic defense and attack moves. Adrien felt a little guilty that he'd had training outside of the police academy training, and had tested out of most of the sessions, and instead had been assigned to be an additional instructor. Rondel thought it was cool. Bellamy thought he was a show-off. Adrien was grateful it wasn't one more thing he had to balance. Still, they had to pass off their skills, and the groups were assigned based on their seating arrangements.
He had a lot of work to do, but he couldn't set aside the strange feeling he had when he walked into the bakery every morning to find that Marinette was always standing behind the counter. She was beautiful. Adrien could appreciate her looks without having a romantic interest in her. He had spent his whole life with models. He knew a pretty girl when he saw one. And, she was beautiful, and sassy. She had never been that way in school. It was new and strange to him. But, he liked it. It was refreshing to find someone so genuine.
He shook his head. He needed to finish this or he was going to be in trouble with Antoni and Cherlie, and Bellamy and Rondel were going to take his muffins the next time he was late. He couldn't appease Cherlie if he didn't have any muffins. And he was sick of giving up his muffins.
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Marinette sat on her bed, and then jumped up and went up the stairs and out onto her balcony. It was the time of year, now, where the days were the same temperature as the nights, and everything felt dreamy and magical and warm. This meant that Marinette slept in her lounge chair outside almost more than she slept in her actual bed. Tikki followed her outside.
The night was clear, and the stars shined almost as brightly as the romantic lights of the city. The Eiffel Tower shimmered, and the lights around it flickered. Marinette smiled. She loved Paris. Even though La Papillon was making it a hard place to want to live in. And even though she was stuck working in her parent's bakery, she still loved it. What she didn't love was the odd feeling in her chest whenever she thought about Adrien.
He had always been so aloof in school. Yes, he was sweet. And she wouldn't deny her near obsession with him, but she realized she didn't know that much about him. His father kept him reigned in tight, making Adrien hard to be close to. For heaven's sake, Nino had been akumatized over wanting Adrien to be a little less monitored. He didn't share much about his personal life, and she'd been too enamored with him to really ask. But somehow, the universe had thrown them back together, and Marinette wasn't sure how she felt about the whole thing.
He came into the bakery every day, smiling and happy and so much more lifelike than he'd seemed in school. He seemed tired, but he seemed so content. He didn't talk about his parents or his ex-girlfriend, or anything from what his life used to be. He only talked about his friends at the precinct, and how happy he was with his life.
And Marinette couldn't do anything but believe him.
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Robyn looked at her new room with a smile she couldn't even keep off her face. She was living in the Agreste Palace. She was the new face of Agreste Designs, and Gabriel loved her more than he loved Adrien.
She had come to learn that Adrien had been disowned, and Gabriel had no desire to keep looking for him. Gabriel lived his life as if Adrien had never existed. She thought that he probably couldn't emotionally handle the heartbreak of losing both his wife and his son, but she would bask in what attention he offered her in their place.
Gabriel had moved her out of her lonely apartment and let her set up residence in his home, with a room of her own, and a new bodyguard. There was no end to how amazing her life could be. She had quickly become the hot item of gossip in fashion circles. She was the daughter of a cowboy, and the ex-girlfriend of the no-good son of her current employer. She was gorgeous and had landed a position that other girls only dreamed of. People said that she'd only been with Adrien to get this job. People said she'd done any number of scandalous things to get this job. She didn't even care. She knew what she'd done, and what she'd done is gotten on Gabriel's good side when it had mattered.
And now that Adrien was gone, there was nowhere for her to go but up. She went to every photo shoot with the confidence of her employer behind her. And she went home to the Agreste Mansion, only to find that Gabriel was always waiting for her. They ate dinner together every night, and he showered Robyn with gifts and more affection that she was sure she deserved. She had heard rumors of the cold-hearted side of Gabriel. And while she knew it existed. He had disowned his own flesh and blood, for goodness sake. But, he had never shown her any sign that he would do that to her. Gabriel was the closest thing she had to family in France. And she loved it.
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Adrien sat down at the long table, putting his lunchbox out in front of him. He was looking forward to lunch. An early morning for training and an akuma battle during his first break had left him starved for energy despite the nap he'd taken during the last training video. Bellamy sat down next to him, and slapped Adrien on the shoulder, "You know, you disappear a lot. Like, where to you even go? I was worried you weren't going to come back from your locker for lunch."
Adrien laughed, "What do you mean? You're just not very observant. I think the entire class could disappear and unless we sent you an email you'd miss it." Adrien reached over and flipped Bellamy's phone out of his hands and onto the table.
"No dude," Bellamy picked up his phone and put it in his pocket, "You disappear, like a strange enough amount that even I notice."
Rondel looked up from his papers to point a pencil at Adrien, "He has a point. Lam is very unobservant. If he noticed, then you know we've all noticed."
Bellamy glared at Rondel, "You don't have to be so brutally honest all the time." Bellamy's eyes widened, "Are you working on the worksheets during our lunch break?"
"I don't want to fall behind." Rondel smirked.
"Guys," Adrien laughed, "Don't worry so much. I am late a lot, that's true. But I'm still beating both of you as far as marks are concerned. You should be more worried about that, and less worried about where I am all the time."
"Fine," Bellamy offered, "I'll leave you alone if you tell me why you decided to be an officer." He shot Adrien a look, "You gave me permission to run your name for the background check training." he shrugged, "I have to know."
Adrien stiffened. He had given Bellamy permission to run his name through the software. They had been learning how to interpret and run background checks. He scowled. Bellamy would have probably searched the internet for him after finding out that he had international travel on his record. Though, he might not have thought to check the internet.
"Wait." Rondel looked up from his papers, "You gave Lam permission, but not me?" Rondel looked offended.
Adrien held up his hands, "Woah guys, why so curious about my past? You guys have been sitting at this table with me for the past two months. We have run background checks on everyone in our class, I'm not any different. You know everything there is to know about me."
"Yeah," Bellamy laughed, "Except you have no real work history and a ton of international travel logged on your record. Are you," Bellamy looked away and whispered, "a secret spy?"
Adrien laughed, "Nothing nearly that exciting."
"Then what was it?" Rondel questioned.
Adrien suddenly felt very trapped. Bellamy and Rondel had become some of his favorite people. They ate lunch together, and shared music from their phones, and talked about what girls they thought were cute in their class. Well, Adrien listened to them talk. His heart was spoken for. Adrien took a deep breath. He was at peace with his past, and he was ready for the ridicule that he would get after coming clean. He had said that he would be honest if they asked, and now they were asking.
"Guys," Adrien made a face, "Have you really not figured it out?"
"No." They chimed.
"My name is Adrien Agreste." He looked at them for a moment, "Do you recognize that name, like even at all?"
Bellamy looked to Rondel, and Rondel shrugged his shoulders.
"Ugh," Adrien huffed, and rolled his eyes, "Seriously. Men would do so much better with women if they payed attention to what women cared about." Adrien turned in his seat to the girl sitting behind them, "Pardon, it's Eliza, right?"
The girl smiled, "Yeah, what can I do for you?"
"What do you think of when you hear the name Agreste?" Adrien smiled.
Eliza sighed, "I think of Agreste Fashion. They are the leading company for the greatest trends in the world. And they make the most adorable dresses."
Adrien beamed, "Thank you." He turned back to Bellamy and Rondel.
"So you share a name with a fashion store." Bellamy didn't look impressed.
Adrien sighed, "I was hoping I wouldn't have to say it out loud, since it's sure to cause a scene." He smiled, "My name is Adrien Agreste, I am the only child of the famous Gabriel Agreste. I have international travel on my record because I used to be a model for the company. I don't share a name with a fashion store, I technically own the fashion store."
Eliza stood up behind them and shouted, "Really? I thought you might be, but you seemed so humble I didn't think you could be someone so famous. You're all over the internet, everyone wants to know where you are." Eliza made a puzzled face, "You are one of the most successful models in France. Why be an officer?"
Adrien turned around, "My father has cut me off. He's mad that I'm not following his orders anymore. I am tired of his world, and his rules. I decided to be an officer because I want to be normal, and I want to help people. My father has found someone to replace me, anyway."
Eliza beamed, "I am going to be an officer with Adrien Agreste. I could die." She looked at him, "And don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I won't tell." Eliza winked.
Bellamy shot him a look, "Did you pay her to support your story?"
Adrien felt his ears burn. Bellamy was being dumb. He was trying to be honest and he was just giving him grief. He was putting himself out on the line here, potentially ruining his chances of being normal so that Bellamy and Rondell would trust him. Adrien grumbled, "Get on your phone and do an internet search for me. You'll find all kinds of scandalous stories about my father and what a terrible son I am. You'll find news about my being disowned, and my choice to leave the model life for a normal one. You'll also find that in my place, my own father has decided to basically adopt by ex-girlfriend." Adrien huffed.
Bellamy sighed and whipped out his phone, "Whatever." He clicked through some screens, and looked up at Adrien, shocked, "Dude, your ex-girlfriend is hot."
Rondel groaned, "Give me that." He took Bellamy's phone and scrolled through the internet results. He looked at Adrien, "You're lying. You're too much of a doofus to be a model."
"You don't have to be smart to be a model. You only have to look good." Adrien smirked.
"Model. Spy. Whatever. You still disappear a lot." Bellamy looked at him.
Adrien relaxed, they didn't care. Rondel went right back to his papers, but gave Adrien a shove and a small smile. Bellamy returned to his lunch, hungrily devouring his sandwich. Adrien leaned back in the chair, feeling a weight lift off of his chest. He had been honest. They knew who and what he really was, and they hadn't called his father, or turned him away. He was safe.
Bellamy made a face, "Okay but if you're a model, that's why you're so good with the ladies and why girls fawn over you. That's not fair."
Adrien laughed, "It's not that hard to be nice to them. That's all it takes."
Bellamy glared, "You're not on the same level as us. You're exalted in the eyes of women. You cheat. You are hereby demoted to the status of wingman. You help me with the ladies."
"You can do it," Adrien put his hand on Bellamy's shoulder, "You just have to actually talk to them. Most girls are actually pretty cool."
"Whatever," Bellamy smiled back at him.
Rondel piped up, "So if you broke up with your super hot american girlfriend, do you have another girl in your life? That can be the only reason you ditched the other one."
Adrien laughed, "I am enjoying the bachelor life." He couldn't tell them that he was in love with another girl. But he was. He looked at his lunch on the table before him, horrified, as his thoughts didn't immediately dance to Ladybug, but instead, to Marinette.
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Adrien looked down at his large pile of homework that needed to be finished by the morning. He looked at Plagg, who was more annoyed with the daily akuma attacks than Chat Noir and Ladybug combined. They were getting in the way of so many things. His job, his training, and his ability to get enough sleep. Adrien, of course, was always grateful for the opportunity to be with his Lady, and to save the fine people of the city of Paris. He was not however, grateful for the piles of work that were building up on his desk at home. And when he was home in his small hovel of an apartment, all he wanted to do was check on the newly revived LadyBLOG, to look at pictures and videos of the love of his life, and to find out if anyone had figured out who she really was yet.
As many times as he'd tried to tell himself that he wasn't in love, he'd caught himself daydreaming about her three more times. He had felt butterflies before. He knew what puppy-love felt like. He had been in a relationship with Robyn for almost two years. What he felt for Ladybug was so much more than that. He didn't know who she was, and that didn't really matter. His heart belonged to her more than it ever had before. He was ready to be there for her no matter the consequences. His dedication to the program was evident by the growing pile of papers on his small table. He was losing sleep and living on muffins and coffee, and he had never been happier. The Ladyblog website dinged, letting Adrien know that there was an update. He clicked the link.
He sighed, it was another fact video about Ladybug. It was highlighting her new outfit, which was red and black, with more organic feeling spots and wings. She also now had two yo-yos and her hair was longer. Alya's voice rattled on while a flash of images and breakdowns flashed on the screen. Adrien sighed. He already knew all of this.
What he didn't know, was how Marinette had come into the picture. Slowly blooming under the sun of his love for Ladybug, was a small flower of adoration for the dark-haired girl. It was small, but deeply rooted. And the more he tried to pull it out, the more it seemed to grow. Marinette was sweet and kind. She seemed to honestly care for his well-being, even if it was just for two minutes every day.
He closed the browser. He needed to get his act together. He would be dead at tomorrow's training class if he didn't finish all of this work. He turned on his music, and set his mind to finishing. He couldn't afford to fall behind. His jumbled feelings would have to wait.
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"Tikki," Marinette paled, feeling her heart start to beat faster, "What am I going to do?"
Tikki yawned, exhausted from the lengthy fight with Silver Screen, an actor who had been passed over for the leading part in an upcoming movie. She looked up at Marinette, "I don't know. What are you worried about now?"
"I think I might have feelings for Chat Noir." She groaned, not quite believing that the words had even come out of her mouth. But, not being able to fight that she was falling for the masked man.
"Of course you have feelings for him." Tikki smirked, "You spend all of your time with him. Not to mention he adores you. I might have feelings for Chat Noir at this point."
Marinette sighed, "I'm serious. I don't know if I can keep telling him we're just friends. Not that I was really pushing him away before. I didn't put up with his nonsense, but now, I think I," she sighed, "I need to stop." She tried to stop talking, but her nerves won, and she continued to ramble, "He's just so…"
Marinette flopped to her bed, and stared up at the ceiling, "La Papillon has been back for almost three months. Chat Noir has been by my side for every moment. Oh, Marinette, what are you going to do? How embarrassing! You can't actually be in love with your crime fighting partner! You'll never hear the end of it! It would never work. You only see each other when you're in costume." She stopped, dreading her next thought, "I would have to deal with his puns." She groaned.
She was a mess. She couldn't even keep her thoughts straight. Her heart fluttered. This was Chat Noir's fault. It had started a few days ago, when she mentioned that she would be interested in someone more serious after a particularly immature moment. He hadn't seemed different at first, but slowly as their daily battles and midnight meetings continued, he started to seem more like a man. Marinette knew that they had both grown up. His height was not easily missed, and she was certain that a new outfit was required to accommodate her curves. But, he was still just Chat Noir. Goofy, overly-romantic, silly Chat Noir. Or, that's what she'd told herself. He still made jokes, and horrible puns. But he also made sure that she knew that he was strong, fast, smart, and surprisingly serious about his feelings for her. He no longer professed his feelings in pun form, or to gain attention from her. He protected her, and made it very clear that he had no intention of letting her go again.
She'd tried to let it slide, but her heart longed for the kind of love that Chat Noir offered her. She had been unrequitedly in love with Adrien in school and then been burned by Andrew in her work, and had thought she would be happy to be free from relationships for awhile. But there was Chat Noir, proving to her that she craved affection. Chat Noir was easily her best friend, and the person she confided the most in. Chat Noir knew how hard it was to have two lives. He knew the struggle of lying to everyone to keep everyone safe. He knew her better than anyone knew her.
And then there was the battle with Silver Screen. In a strange turn of events, Ladybug had become the akuma's choice for leading lady. She was saved from his attacks, but only because he needed her to play out his scene. She had not come quietly, and had been restrained so as to keep her compliant. Chat Noir had been furious. Like the true hero she knew he was, he had swooped in, and saved her, destroying the vessel for the akuma in the process. Silver Screen was defeated, but Chat Noir was not satisfied. Instead of giving her a fist bump, he'd given her a long lecture about her reckless behavior, and how she should rely on him. He'd done more than just said he loved her, which he said all the time, he'd convinced her that he truly cared for her. It had changed everything.
She had always cared for Chat Noir. She probably could have had feelings for him when they were younger if she hadn't been so focused on Adrien. But Adrien was no longer in her sights, and Chat Noir was still her most supportive friend. She also couldn't deny that he had grown more attractive. Even the LadyBlog had brought it up.
Her heart fluttered again. She didn't feel the need to kiss him or to profess her undying love for him, but there was love there. It sunk down through her skin and into her bones. She loved Chat Noir. More than a friend. Not like a lover, but enough that it scared her.
"I think you should just grab him by the face and kiss him." Tikki grinned.
"Ti-kki!" Marinette's cheeks turned a violent shade of red.
Tikki laughed, "Marinette. Chat Noir worships the ground you walk on. He'd probably be elated to know that you care for him too."
Marinette shoved her face into a pillow.
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Ladybug stood behind Chat Noir, looking at the silhouette of her favorite hero. Her heart skipped. She smiled, "Good evening, Mon Chaton."
He turned and looked at her with a brilliant smile, and she felt her cheeks warm, "Good evening, My Lady."
"What can I do for you, Chat? I got your message." She gestured to the soft green glow of the Eiffel Tower.
"I wanted to see you, My Lady." he raised his eyebrows at her, "And also talk to you about the akuma. It's not that I mind, but I have responsibilities that are being neglected every time I come to the rescue. I just want to make sure that you're alright. We haven't really had a break in a while."
Ladybug sighed, "I understand that. But I don't know how we control when the Akuma are going to attack, or how to know how hard they are going to be to fight." She huffed, "Or if they even need to be fought at all. I mean Cinnamint basically handed us her Akuma."
Chat Noir laughed, "She just wasn't mint to be a villain."
Ladybug smiled, then sighed, "I guess we just play it by ear." She gasped, "I have an idea, but I'm sure you won't like it."
Chat Noir frowned, "What is it?"
"Well, for right now, my responsibilities outside of being Ladybug are fairly relaxed. If you're having a busy time, and need a breather, I could take the reigns for a little bit." She held up her hands as soon as he opened his mouth to talk her down, "Just until you have everything else managed. You're my best friend, and I care for you. I don't think I could reasonably ask you to help knowing that you were suffering in your personal life when I could help."
"I will not allow you to run around the city alone." He was almost angry.
Ladybug smiled, "What if I promise to call you if I need any help at all."
Chat Noir held the back of his neck, "What if I just take tomorrow off, and only if you don't need me, just so I can catch up on," he stopped, "stuff."
Ladybug hummed, "You could catch up on everything you need to catch up on in just one day?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
He grinned at her with his feline teeth, "I'm good at what I do."
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The sun had gone down hours ago. Her parents had gone to bed hours ago. But, Marinette couldn't pull herself away from the bakery. She had taken an order for three hundred and fifty "kitty shaped cookies" for a little girl's birthday party. Marinette couldn't imagine how many people she was inviting to need so many cookies, but they had already paid for them, so the Boulangerie Patisserie would make them.
Her parents had offered to help her, but Marinette had been finding more and more that she liked to bake. There was something satisfying about making bread that crackled just right in the oven, and tasted exactly like you had planned. There was an art in shaping and decorating cakes. And she loved it. The more she did it, the more she found that she truly enjoyed the art of baking. It made so much sense to her.
She sat back on her stool, with the frosting bag in her hand, and looked at the multi-colored, cat shaped cookies. It was just like designing clothing, only it was food. She had the ability to create with her hands the ideas of her mind. It filled her need to be creative, and she got to see the smiles on the faces of customers. It was mostly pressure free, since they were a small store, and family-run, so they didn't have anyone but themselves to worry about. She was still thinking about what this meant for her life.
She knew that she didn't want to get back into fashion. Now that she was away from that kind of life, she couldn't even imagine how she'd done it for so long. The competition and the deadlines were enough to drive a person mad. She was coming to love baking more and more. Her newfound love for baking had put the thought of inheriting the bakery back in her mind. She wasn't sure that she wanted to tell her parents that she had changed her mind just yet. That level of commitment was something she couldn't afford right now. But, the thought became more and more appealing the more colored cat heads she decorated.