MrNoir: Good morning. I'm sorry if I upset you last night. I didn't mean to disappoint you. I don't know what this is or where it will go, but I don't want to disappoint you.
Marinette stared at the words on her screen. She had just made it home from work and had booted up her laptop to check her notifications. There was a red dot next to his profile.
Lady: Hi. Thank you for the apology. I'm not sure where this will go either, but I am looking forward to seeing what happens.
The dot switched to green.
*MrNoir is typing*
MrNoir: Hey! I'm glad you wrote back.
Lady: I meant what I wrote last night. I'm not going to give up on this thing just because of a little disappointment. That would kind of undermine my declaration of love.
MrNoir: You really meant that? You love me?
Lady: I do indeed.
MrNoir: I've never been in love before. And I don't think anyone has loved me before, at least not romantically.
Lady: That's not technically true. It's just your first time knowing about it. I've been in love with you literally for years. No exaggeration.
MrNoir: So we actually know each other?
Lady: Yep.
MrNoir: You're telling me that I made love to someone I know a week and a half ago in the garden.
Lady: Yep.
MrNoir: And you recognized me, but I didn't recognize you. No wonder you were disappointed.
Lady: Yep.
MrNoir: Well, allow me to put a paws to your disappointment with a purr-fect solution. Would you like to go on an online date?
Lady: I would be delighted.
Fuck. This is really happening.
MrNoir: Well I can't take you out to dinner, but what if we cooked a meal together? You haven't eaten yet have you?
Lady: Let me go and check what I have in the kitchen
Marinette moved her laptop into the kitchen with her as she opened her fridge and took a look around.
MrNoir: Me too. Hmm…looks like I have some pasta. And I think I have enough veggies to make a sauce. How about you?
Lady: No noodles over here, but I have a really good loaf of crusty bread. You can make some pasta and I'll make something else Italian. What's your favorite kind of food?
MrNoir: Hmm that's a hard question.
While he thought on her question, Marinette began pulling ingredients from the fridge and pantry—onions, garlic, mushrooms, olive oil, rainbow kale, and a jar of pasta sauce. While baking was a precise science (one that she had learned well from her parents as demonstrated by the wonderful loaf of bread she had on hand), her cooking philosophy relied far more heavily no instinct. She began by smashing the garlic cloves with the side of her chef's knife and divesting them of their paper coverings, then minced and set them aside. As she moved on to dicing up her onion, her laptop pinged.
MrNoir: I think my favorite food might be Chinese. I've gone on several trips to China for different modeling jobs and vacations, and the food is always amazing. I had this one thing called Jian Bing from a street vendor this one time when I snuck off from my body guard. It was kinda like a crepe but with all of these different layers and it was amazing! And don't even get me started on the dumplings and noodles and soups. There's way too much to praise.
His favorite cuisine is Chinese. Wonder if he was thinking that when he was going down on me.
…
Get your head out of the gutter, girl.
Lady: That's a well thought out answer. I think French food might be my favorite—which means I am very well placed.
MrNoir: Why is French your favorite?
Lady: I grew up eating lots of French bread and pastries and patisseries. I definitely have a sweet tooth, and no other country in the world does dessert like the French.
MrNoir: Definitely some truth there. You said in our last conversation that you're a good cook and you could make me fat and happy. What about desserts? Sweets have definitely been far and few between in my life, but I am looking to change that.
Lady: Well I don't want to brag, but I could hook you up with an unlimited amount of high quality treats for the rest of your life.
MrNoir: Now that is sexy. Even sexier than how you looked under the moonlight in the garden.
Marinette had to set her knife down from where she had been chopping the mushrooms. Oh my god he's flirting. And talking dirty. Does this count as dirty? Shut up, Marinette and think. We should flirt back. Yes.
Lady: Been thinking about that night a lot?
MrNoir: Every night in my dreams. And a few mid afternoons when I needed to…relax.
Marinette began sauteing her onions and garlic and considered how to reply.
Lady: Well I'm glad that I could help you relax. Although I wish I could have been there to lend a helping hand.
Marinette added her mushrooms with a mix of emotions. On the one hand, she was very proud of her flirting. On the other hand, she was rather nervous as she waited to see how he would respond. Three dots popped up then disappeared. Then they popped up as if he had deleted what he wrote and started over. This happened several times over as Marinette let her mushrooms brown up nicely.
MrNoir: Well that would only be paw-sible if you gave this alley cat a second chance to show you his stripes and revealed your identity, which I think would be a meow-velous turn of events.
MrNoir: Sorry, for the long wait, I was trying to cram in as many puns and cat references as paws-ible.
MrNoir: *Possible. Sorry, it's hard to stop the muscle memory from punning.
Staring at the screen, a weight lifted from her stomach, burbling up her chest and erupting as a laugh. She hadn't realized until he sent his message that she was terrified of getting sexual again. It was too vulnerable too fast and her 'fake it 'til you make it' mentality was floundering.
Lady: OMFG that was so stupid but very funny. Good job kitty cat
Lady: Well I'm not ready to reveal my identity, but I am about ready to reveal my meal. How are you coming along?
As she dumped the pasta sauce in with the kale, she pulled out her bread and cut a thick slice, smearing it with softened butter and setting it aside on a low bowl for when the veggie and sauce mixture was ready.
MrNoir: Pretty good! I have the noodles nice and al dente, and the veggies are nicely cooked. I think I'm going to add some butter and white wine and mix it all together.
Lady: Well I'm ready to plate up. Shall we send comparison photos?
MrNoir: Sure, gimme a minute.
Okay, how do I do this without showing anything that could give me away. The dishes are pretty ordinary, but the backsplash and countertop might make him realize it's my kitchen. She grabbed a plain blue hand towel and laid it on the counter. Filling her bowl, she placed it atop the towel and then set about taking a good photo (which a was a bit vexing to do as she needed to use her laptop, the only place she had discord downloaded).
After hitting send, she sat down and started enjoying her efforts. A ping accompanied a selfie of Adrien smiling next to a bowl of pasta.
Lady: As always, you look stunning in this photo. How is the meal?
MrNoir: Not bad! I've gotten more into cooking ever since I convinced my father to let me get my own place, but it was a bit of a transition after a childhood of chefs
MrNoir: So I have a question for you. Obviously you were at my father's party. I know for a fact that the only people invited fashion industry people from the show that day, some politicians and socialites, and Agreste employees. So which one are you?
Lady: You promise not to start crossing names off of the invite list in an effort to deduct my identity? Cause I promise to tell you who I am once you meet my criteria.
MrNoir: Cat's honor, I won't go snooping. Although then we need to go back and address what these criteria are that I'm hearing about for the first time.
Lady: Well the first criteria is you have to fall in love with me. The second criteria is you have to promise not to fire me cause you are technically my boss.
MrNoir: Ok well ignoring the beat down HR is going to give me for taking advantage of an employee, how will you know I love you?
Lady: Well you saying 'I love you' would be one strong indicator.
A long pause.
MrNoir: What if I don't know what romantic love is?
Lady: You will. I promise.
MrNoir: How can you know that?
Lady: Magic
MrNoir: Magic?
Lady: I told you before that I know how I feel. I promise that I will know when…or if… you fall in love with me. I'll feel it.
Lady: Anyway, how is your meal? Mine is delicious.
The two of them continued to talk back and forth, their conversation remaining light hearted. I hope he doesn't think I'm crazy. Disregarding the question of her sanity, Marinette felt good about this step. She was moving in the right direction, letting him know more and more about her. Hopefully her theory about love would prove true. All she could do now was keep being vulnerable and strong.
