Chapter 1 – The Hero's Present

Several cancelled flights and a missed train brought Marinette to her current spot outside the Gare de Lyon. Having made half her journey through replacement buses, she was stranded in Paris indefinitely until further notice. Stranded, because she no longer had a home here, nor did her parents own a business in the city.

Although making way to Milan was possible through multiple transits on trains and buses, the 29-year-old did not have the energy to sit another 8 hours (the missed train was a blessing in disguise) or risk travelling further and missing yet another train. As such, Paris was her home again for the next 36 hours (if the rescheduled flights were to be believed!).

Sitting with a coffee outside, Marinette spent the next hour booking a hotel room and then relaxing to people watch as they walked by. A small sigh of contentment escaped her as she took in the sights, smells and atmosphere of her childhood home. A small part of her was tempted to take out a sketchbook, but she resisted the urge and focussed on her own rest and recuperation.

Now sporting longer hair, the raven beauty wore her locks up in a low chignon with a few tendrils framing her face. She had fashioned the day's outfit to be fierce with minimal effort; an all-black ensemble covered by a red coat with large black buttons and flared from the hip. Topped with a black beret and classic red lipstick, the attention she gathered was one of admiration for she posed the image of a French lady.

The irony of her outfit had hit her when the bus redirected to Paris, a stop she never intended to pass in her journey. What better way to revisit the city, than dressed up as her former self?

Marinette's trip was for work, to attend the Milan fashion week whilst also connecting with smaller brands such as her own to collaborate on several lines. Luckily for her, she had chosen to travel 2 weeks earlier than her first scheduled meeting. With her apartment booked for a total of 7 weeks, it gave her time before and in between schedules to relax and explore the city, maybe even hire a car and visit the surrounding areas of Italy. The delay just meant that some 'me' time was in France instead.

Closing her eyes, the woman took a deep breath in before letting it out slowly. She repeated this a further 2 times before stretching and preparing to leave. Shouting a quick 'merci!' to the café staff, she gathered her many belongings and proceeded to shuffle carefully along the cobbled roads to her hotel.

"Welcome!"

Walking into the reception, Marinette was enveloped with scents that were sweet and floral. The small shivers from the outdoors quickly died out, to be replaced with warmth and comfort, and a small drink was placed gently into her hands by the welcoming staff member. The gentleman, who was slightly hunched over and appearing to be in his 70's or more, moved in confident motions and made quick assist with the bags. Placing most on a luggage cart, he gave a wide smile and walked with her to the reception desk situated just ahead.

The receptionist efficiently checked her in and provided all required information in a quick, but professional manner before allowing her to go up with a cheery "Please enjoy your stay!".

"You know", whispered the porter loudly, as he walked with her lugging the 2 large suitcases, 1 cabin case, 1 laptop bag and a handbag up. "The hotel was originally named La Coccinelle 16 years before, you know, to celebrate the works of our dear hero and the locals took offense as she was still not well known. 'Who is this girl? She cannot help us!' They shouted very very angrily all the time. So, the owner crossly changed to La Papillon and it became so famous!"

The elderly man took sneaky glances while talking behind his hands, not attuned to the fact that his 'secrets' were clearly well known by staff and guest. The comment and actions received smiles all around, with the receptionist rolling her eyes and silently signalling Marinette to play along, to the ex-hero's amusement.

"Nobody was scared of La Papillon, Monsieur?"

"Nay, for we had a hero! Oh, you may not know so well, so long ago and you must have been so little" Marinette's hand went up to her face in embarrassment as bouts of laughter were heard from passing guests. "A superhero in France, named Ladybug. So young and saving Paris from evil almost every day!"

Guiding the trolley and guest into a waiting lift, the story was paused just long enough to press the button to the 11th floor.

"But such sadness when she went away. We, the city and people, didn't get to say our final thanks or goodbyes." With a 'ping!', the elevator stopped and the brunette was led through the plush carpet to the only door for the floor, where her partner finished his tale. "But she finished her duty and I hope she is happy now, living like the young girl she was. We celebrate that Paris is free, La Papillon is gone forever and the hotel is so famous for it! I wish you a happy stay, Mademoiselle"

"Merci monsieur" A grateful smile touched the lady's lips. A final joyful bow ended the conversation and she closed the door to her temporary home.

Marinette was almost disappointed to find that the rooms of 'The Butterfly' were not painted garish shades of purple and black, but rather the more subtle shades of creams and baby blue. Having booked the penthouse suite for a very reasonable price (mileage plus rewards membership), she was treated to a beautiful 180-degree view of the city across the 2 rooms and extra-large bathroom. To her delight, the hotel also offered guests a free shuttle service to their next destination, so she did not have to worry about the travel to the airport.

After resting for several minutes, the brunette had prepared to take a shower before realising that she needed to unpack her bags for a pair of pyjamas and the following day's clothes. Staring ahead, Marinette also realised that she was not a good packer so ALL suitcases would need opening and searching to find the outfits she needed. A task which, by itself, was nothing but right now? It felt like the sky had fallen down around her.

"URRRGGGGGGGGHHHH" The groan was deep enough to have escaped Vin Diesel. Blessed was she to have the face of an angel and the voice of a male superstar "damn it, damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!"

Falling into the bed, she continued to scream and thrash in frustration, already tired and miserable from the way her whole day had gone. Allowing some tears to fall, she felt the same spell of nervousness that had accompanied her since childhood when things did not go to plan.

Forcing her eyes tightly closed, she tried again to take some deep, shaky breaths and calm down. In. Out. In. Out.

In.. Out..

In… Out…

In….

Out….

…snooooooooooore…

A short nap later, Marinette woke up grumpy and dishevelled. Late afternoon naps tended to drain her energy, rather than replenish it but thankfully she was too annoyed to think about anything else. The annoyance also brought with it a perk and answer to her current dilemma.

Fuck it. She couldn't give a shit. So high was her grumpy-o-meter today that her decision to avoid the unpacking, search, not find, stress, pack again situation was this: Buy new clothes! Just an outfit for the next day and then cram tonight's clothes into any of her bags without looking. Perfect. She didn't even need pyjamas that night, the penthouse was all hers to roll in the nude as much as she wanted.

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Mlle Grumpalot stomped as hard as she could into the soft carpet (AKA not hard at all) on the way to the bathroom. Washing the slept-in makeup off as much as she cared to try, she quickly sorted her hair and deemed herself suitable to see the general public for a quick shop. Checking her watch, she had at least a good hour to buy clothes and the nearest mall was only 5 minutes away.

Choosing to only bring her keys, phone and purse, Marinette made her way to the lift to make a final trip down for the evening. As if by magic, the lady that emerged on the ground floor appeared well rested and at peace, smiling graciously towards the reception as she walked past. The only noticeable difference to her attire was the removal of her bun, her hair now placed into a simple messy knot that just worked. Her eye makeup now extra smoky (haha!) and the lack of a red lip, the entire look had changed from classy to chic and stylish. Never noticing the effect she had on those around, she flew down the steps of the hotel (not forgetting to slip the dear porter a small treat) and made her way to the shops just ahead.

The chosen outfit was another simple one to be able to use the same outer gear. Dark denim skinny jeans and a gold and white Mulan printed top (she needed her inner warrior), her mind had agreed a style for the following day that was easy but effective.

Having only spent 10 minutes to choose her outfit, Marinette left the store to see the sky still bright and activity all around. She chose to explore the area, thinking it a waste to return already and it was also an idea to find a good place to purchase food for the evening.

Following the streets and smells, the baker's daughter found herself passing several bakeries. All the aromas reminded her of home and her parents. Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain were currently based in the South of France, having founded a business in Marseille 13 years prior. Their decision to open the doors to DC Boulangerie Patisserie had been met with overwhelming success, leading to the opening of 3 further branches to meet customer demands.

Although the responsibilities were now passed down to his fully trained bakers (and a busy office that managed the successful enterprise behind the scenes), Tom still found joy in making bread and was frequently found at 4am at the industrial kitchens with a smile on his face and his hands deep in flour, starter and water. Multiple new apprentices had started with no knowledge that the giant of a man gently guiding them through the breadmaking process was the owner of the establishment. It would only be when the pastry team would arrive and shoo him away with a laugh and a fresh loaf of bread that they queried the strange man to which they received the answer "He is only the best baker in the province!".

Feeling the slight twangs of homesickness, Marinette walked into one of the bakeries and ordered a medley of croissants, pain au chocolate and pain au raisin to go. She continued on with her goody bag, strolling through the streets until the absence of light encouraged her to start her way back to the hotel.

Looking ahead, the woman walked, spying a young mother and child across the road chatting about the day they had had. The toddler had spoken so animatedly that he lost focus and tripped on his own feet. With a gentle scold, the mother crouched below to dust the child down, looking into the face of her beautiful angel.

Smiling at the scene, Marinette thought back to her own life, silently pondered whether a family or child would be something she would consider in the future. Then by instinct, she stood to attention, sensing the arrival of impending danger. Several milli seconds later, the loud screech of tires was heard nearby.

Dusting herself off several roads away, the hero pouted slightly at her now crumpled box of pastries. Her movements and prompt exit were automatic, a fortunate habit formed from multiple escapes from the camera. Silently glad that the sweet young family had been saved, she shook her head in anger at the idiots who chose to drive under influence. Based on the car model alone, Marinette knew that this was done by children of wealthier backgrounds and the police could only discipline them so far. But this was way past her expertise so she didn't dwell further on the incident.

Feeling the adrenaline rush wear out, the lady recognised that the last stretch of her walk was going to be extremely challenging. Taking minute steps with her now jelly legs up the hill, Marinette took her phone out to type a number and find a distraction.

Beep beep beep. Vrrrrrr

"Hello, Maman?"