AN: I was curious about the French educational system the other day when I realized the characters couldn't stay 16 all year… Turns out (more continuity problems, considering that "Origins" makes it sound like they're in their first year of collège rather than their last) that they should be in lycée now (remember, my stories take place in the third year after the show began). I had been pretty vague up to now on their school level, but I did make a couple corrections so they are in lycée. And their friends are all in the lycée. So nothing's really changed from the original version with this small retcon. Would you have noticed if I didn't say anything?

To anonymousfriend27: I think you'll be saying that a little more often by the end of this story…

To Rose Tiger: Oh, we're not done with him yet!

To Speckleflower: Hopefully seeing things from his perspective will explain things. A little.

M. Janet considered himself to be a reasonable man. He was dedicated to his career and his profession. When he took on a task he would get it done right. The consummate professional in his chosen field. He took pride in his ability to manage any business handed to him, to "right the ship" for a foundering company. It was a feat he had accomplished several times before on his climb up the ladder – for a coffee shop, a restaurant, and a pair of poorly-run department stores before now.

So when he had been offered the job of Office Manager at Agreste Fashion, he had leapt at the opportunity. Paris' most ubiquitous fashion house: on the brink of disaster after the arrest of its founder. The company's name – especially its acclaimed and widely-sought "Gabriel" brand – had been synonymous with haute couture for nearly two decades. And with the unmasking of Hawk Moth, both his names – "Gabriel" and "Agreste Fashion" – had become bywords throughout Paris, practically overnight. Watching the drama unfold in the newspaper alongside the rest of the population of Paris, Janet had been moderately impressed with the younger Agreste's tenacity in attempting to salvage the family business. Using the majority of his trust fund to form a charity to help his father's victims? His philanthropy had bought him some breathing room from the press and almost put him back in their good graces. Placing their flagship "Gabriel" brand on an indefinite hiatus and creating the new "Heroes of Paris" line, with all the profits donated to the same charity? That had played surprisingly well with the customers – many of whom, he was sure, had been Akumatized or affected by Akuma attacks and now despised the idea of wearing clothing named for their (then-unknown) tormentor. Simply keeping the company's doors open and the lights on? At his age and with everything that had happened, that must have taken great courage on the boy's part – or great foolishness.

The fact of the matter, so far as Janet was concerned, was that the model was in over his head in the world of business.

When young M. Agreste had contacted him through a recruitment company and offered him the Office Manager position, Janet had been excited, to say the least. He had known he could turn the company around, rescue it from a slow death at the hands of an unforgiving public, and restore it to prominence. All he needed was freedom to manage in his own way, to push the employees to perform to the absolute best of their ability.

Instead, the stupid model and his stupid "partner" had used his managerial skills to rebuild the company and repair its reputation, only to immediately humiliate him and cast him aside.

He turned to glare at the woman responsible for escorting him out of the building. "I don't see why you're enjoying this so much," he grumbled.

Mme Legrand raised her eyebrows at him. "You didn't exactly make it easy for anyone to sympathize with you here, Monsieur," she told him icily. "Can you look me in the eye and honestly say that any of Marinette's accusations were unfounded? Do you deny any of what she said?"

"'Do I deny it…' Of course I deny it!" he insisted, eyes narrowing in anger. "Everything I did here was for the good of this company!"

"Intimidating interns was good for the company?"

He sputtered. "I never–"

"Marie has been acting skittish for the last month!" Legrand seethed, not a trace of her usual good humor present in her expression. "Now that I know why, I only wish I had been present sooner to see the way you were treating her! You're only lucky you never pulled the same crap with me around that you did in my design team room today. She could easily have sued you for harassment – and I would have supported it!"

Janet scoffed. "That girl is never going to amount to much."

"Which girl? Marie, or are you talking about Marinette now?" Legrand asked pointedly. "Because Marie shows promise, with the proper training and experience. Perhaps she will not become the next Audrey Bourgeois, but she will certainly find a place in the fashion industry – and if I have anything to say about it, she will find that place here."

Janet threw his office door open, grabbed a copy paper box off the floor, and swept everything on his desk into the box with a single motion before starting on the desk's contents. "I was talking about Marie, and we'll have to agree to disagree on her future prospects in this industry," he told her. "But since you brought her up, do let's talk about Mlle Dupain-Cheng."

"What about Marinette?" Legrand leaned against the doorframe, watching him closely.

"Did you know that this lycée intern was M. Agreste's 'partner'?"

Legrand snorted. He looked up from the desk drawer he was dumping out into his box to see her nearly doubled over in silent laughter. "Of course I knew," she finally told him when she had stopped laughing and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Why do you think I've been giving a lycée intern so much of my time, so much responsibility, and so much legitimate design work? Why do you think a full third of our current offerings – including almost half the upcoming spring line – was designed by an intern? You really don't understand the fashion industry, do you?" she asked rhetorically. "Sixteen-year-olds aren't normally designing pieces for major fashion shows, you know. And a university intern – to say nothing of a lycée intern – at a photo shoot? They are normally fetching coffee and tea or at best assisting in outfit changes, not making major last-minute alterations to important pieces on the fly!"

"You knew!?" he demanded, outraged. He stood upright and glared at her over the desk.

"Obviously," Legrand answered serenely, arms folded across her chest. "They weren't overtly affectionate here, but they haven't exactly been subtle about their friendship. They were even photographed together a couple times during the media blitz after his father's arrest. But yes, when Marinette started at the company Adrien approached me directly and asked me to take her on as a protégé. He wants her to learn the family business from the ground up."

"'Family business'…" He was at a momentary loss for words as the meaning behind that phrase sunk in. "This boy is making major business decisions with his–"

"–If you finish that sentence you will look an even bigger fool than you did ten minutes ago," she interrupted him, eyes flashing with anger. She looked at her watch. "She may be on the fast track at Agreste, but don't think for a minute that she doesn't earn her breaks. I may assign her so many design projects because Adrien believes her to be the future of the company, but I accept so many of them because they are high-quality. Now if you have found all of your personal belongings, I think it's high time for you to find the door."

"Please don't tell me that you think this kid is making the right decision by putting his romantic feelings towards this girl ahead of the best interests of his company," Janet pleaded as he picked up his box and allowed her to escort him out of the building.

"If you had told me five years ago that today I would be training a nearly-seventeen-year-old to take over as the creative vision behind Agreste in a few years, I would have laughed in your face," Legrand confessed. "Of course, if five years ago you'd told me that my admittedly-slightly-misanthropic boss was going to become a super-villain, I also would have laughed in your face. I guess that's the world we live in now. This company began 20 years ago with Mme Agreste's money funding M. Agreste's design talent and vision. And having watched these two for the past eight months, I feel quite confident in saying that Adrien is making the right decision for his company's long-term future by putting his faith in Marinette. This girl is something special; I haven't seen this kind of talent since I first met Gabriel. So yes, I do think that if everything proceeds as it should, in a few years Agreste Fashion will be M. Agreste's money funding Mme Agreste's design talent and vision."

"I never pegged you for a hopeless romantic, Mme Legrand," Janet scoffed.

"I am simply looking at reality, M. Janet," she replied evenly, shutting the door after him.

Janet fumed all the way to the Metro station where he caught the train to his apartment on the other side of the city. He sat sullenly on a seat, his box of possessions on his lap, glaring daggers at any passenger unfortunate enough to come within three meters of him. He had given his best to Agreste Fashion for five months. The company's reputation was in shambles when he started, but its reputation had begun to recover under his management. After months of lowered sales, Agreste had actually earned a modest profit in the previous quarter. He did so much for the company, and the boy and his stupid girlfriend had used and discarded him! It just was not fair!

He had hoped that returning Agreste to respectability would be his stepping stone to bigger and better opportunities – perhaps within the fashion industry, perhaps not – but now that would never be the case. Agreste would forever be a black mark on his previously-spotless résumé, one that he could never get rid of, even if he did manage to find a new position.

He scoffed, looking down at the small box. He had devoted so much of his life to his career that he had not left room for anything else. The only personal touches in his office had been those recommended by the best management coaches: a couple pictures of himself in front of the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben to help him make a personal connection with his employees. A book about cutting-edge management techniques he had been reading during his lunch breaks. A Newton's Cradle that was supposed to put people at ease in his office. His framed diploma proclaiming his qualification as a business manager. Nothing truly personal, but he wasn't sure what kind of person he could truly be without his work. He'd never had a significant relationship – no pictures of a wife or children to display on his desk to humanize him – because he'd been too dedicated to his career to ever make a relationship work. And now that career was gone, possibly forever. His reputation was going to be ruined, and it was all because of Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Janet threw the door to his lonely apartment open a little harder than he had intended. The door slammed into the wall and rebounded with a thud. He dropped the box containing his possessions on the dining room table and walked over to the bar to find a bottle of wine. On the way he passed the phone, and saw the blinking light indicating a voice message. His curiosity piqued – he didn't know anyone who would want to call him at home – he played the message.

"Monsieur Janet," a robotic voice said, "I understand you were cheated out of your job. If you want to do something about that, come to the Louvre at midnight."