Almost eighteen months ago, at Halloween

'What are you supposed to be, a spotty Spiderman?' A tall boy in a black leather skinsuit and a matching mask walked over to where Marinette was awkwardly hovering by the punch bowl.

Already a few drinks in (a foreseeable danger from deciding to hang out next to the punch bowl), she shot back, 'Look who's talking, Catwoman.'

He grinned in response to her call-out, displaying a set of perfect teeth well-suited to grinning. 'Obviously, I'm Chat Noir - hero of Paris!' he flexed an arm out and spun around to flex both biceps at the same time.

Marinette rolled her eyes. 'Sure, and I'm Ladybug, heroine of Paris.'

'Well, why not?'

Marinette shifted awkwardly, suddenly glad for her own mask to hide her features. 'I had a lot of black spotted red spandex leftover from a Ladybug art project. Someone convinced me it'd be a good idea to make a skintight super suit for Halloween. I accepted the challenge only for its artistic merit.'

'And the world has accordingly been blessed.' Chat Noir placed a hand over his heart to mark the solemn occasion. 'Are you a fashion designer?' he asked politely.

'I want to be,' admitted Marinette. 'I'm studying fashion at the moment.'

'Ah…' said Chat Noir. 'I see it now. Ladybug the fashion designer, taking the world by storm!'

'And how did you come into wearing a skin-tight black leather suit, with a matching bell no less?' not knowing what daring possessed her, she leaned forward to flick it and with a smug look, she smiled as the bell rang clearly. She looked up into cat boy's eyes, which she noted were a shade of bright green and watched as he gulped.

He opened his mouth, seemed to think better of it and closed it again.

'What's the matter, Chat Noir? Cat got your tongue?'

She didn't know what possessed her. Whether the alcohol had loosened her inhibitions completely or set fire to her blood which felt like it was burning under his green-eyed gaze. All she knew was that this blonde haired cat boy was cute and in another room in the house Alya was currently plotting to try and set her up with one of Nino's friends. Screw that - thought Marinette briefly. Then she stopped thinking altogether. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

When he reacted by stiffening, Marinette wondered whether she had made a huge mistake. Or was continuing to do so - kissing was really not her field of expertise. No prior experience would do that to a person. But something about him just felt right. And soon, such thoughts completely melted away as he brought a hand to the small of her back and pulled her closer. A whimper escaped her as he angled his head to deepen the kiss. She felt her knees go weak and was suddenly grateful for his arm around her to hold her up. When he broke off the kiss to start trailing kisses along her neck, she gasped. And took a step backwards, knocking into the table behind her.

The table that was holding the large bowl of punch she had been helping herself to only a short conversation ago. The table wasn't very sturdy.

Marinette shrieked as the lower half of her body was doused in fruity flavoured punch. Chat Boy had managed to avoid the downpour largely because she had caught the brunt of it. He extended a hand towards her to help her up and begrudgingly she took it.

'Come on Ladybug, let's get you cleaned up.'

She nodded, totally embarrassed by the whole situation.

'Um,' she pulled her hand back suddenly. 'Actually, I think I'll just go home. This isn't going to be something I can just wipe off.'

'Oh,' said Chat Noir. 'Ok, I'll take you home!'

'You drove here?'

'Yep,' his lips popped with the 'p,' and he smiled, easily.

'I'll get your car sticky!' she pointed out.

'Really, it's not a problem,' he insisted.

She laughed nervously. 'Okay. Thank you.' What were the chances Alya would invite a weirdo to her Halloween party? It'd be fine, right? She quickly shot a text to Alya:

Punch bowl fell on me. Chat Noir is taking me home.

Even in the middle of a party, Marinette knew she could depend on Alya to check her phone. Her phone buzzed with Alya's prompt reply.

Chat Noir, eh?

Marinette could practically see the smirk on Alya's face. Her phone buzzed again.

Text me when you get home!

She didn't live very far away, but if she could avoid a ten minute train ride back to her house in a dripping wet halloween costume at night, she'd take him up on that.

They sat in silence on the ride back to her place. She'd like to think it wasn't awkward, but it wasn't often (or … ever. It was totally unprecedented really) that she met someone who made her feel like stars were shooting out of her eyes, made her feel weak in the knees, made her breath feel short. Even thinking about it brought warmth to her cheeks. What happened next usually? Did they exchange numbers? Would they go on a date? Would they see each other again or in the future pass each other by like ships in the night, unrecognisable in their everyday clothing without the masks? She couldn't decide if the masks were a good or a bad thing. They prevented them from recognising each other more easily, but it also covered her growing embarrassment a lot better. He parked on the street around the corner from her bakery. He insisted on walking her to her door and she was a little touched by his chivalry.

As they walked towards the bakery though, she began to suspect it was less to do with his chivalry and more to do with the fact that her home was a bakery.

'I can't believe you live here!' he said excitedly.

'Yeah, this is my parents' bakery.'

'Your parents own this bakery? Your parents are the Tom and Sabine from the Tom and Sabine Boulangerie? This is only the best bakery in Paris. I come here whenever I can.'

She smiled proudly. 'Is that very often?' she asked, hopefully.

'No, sadly.'

She looked back at him, a question on her lips when the door swung open and her Papa let out an exclamation.

'Who is this?' he narrowed his eyes at the boy in the catsuit, noting how close he was standing to his daughter.

Chat Noir gulped and took a step back, bowing gallantly. 'Chat Noir, at your service. Just making sure Ladybug got home safe tonight.' He cupped his hand over his mouth and gestured to her wet suit, 'there was an incident with the punch bowl.'

'Hey!' exclaimed Marinette. 'You totally share responsibility. You distracted me!' She flicked his bell in retribution and he laughed.

Tom Dupain surveyed the two young adults, a slow smile stretching along his broad face. He was a romantic at heart. And he hadn't seen his Marinette interacting so casually with a boy her age in so long. She was usually so serious, so focused on her dream of becoming a fashion designer. 'Okay, darling. I'm going to head back to bed now. Thank you Mr. Chat Noir for taking home our Ladybug.'

Chat Noir ruffled the back of his hair in a cute sort of embarrassed way. 'It was nothing. It was my pleasure, really. Or my fault - depends who you ask.'

Tom Dupain made his way back into the house, already making plans to wake up Sabine to let her know that Marinette had brought home a boy .

Back on the doorstep, Marinette fiddled with one end of her pigtails and wondered what was the best way to express that she would like to see him again.

'Thanks for the ride.'

'No problems!' he said brightly.

'Um,' she tried again, and figured a direct approach was probably best, 'May I know the name of my benefactor?'

'A gentleman never kisses and tells.'

She laughed. 'That is not what that means.'

'But it's the truth.' He looked away from her, out into the night, seemingly lost in thought. Then he looked right at her. His green eyes framed by the black mask and lit by the shop light her Papa had flicked on for them. She could see a tiny reflection of herself in his eyes - dark hair in pigtails, red spotted mask. Nervous all of a sudden, she licked her lips and watched her gaze follow her tongue. He moved a breath closer, bending towards her and she stilled in anticipation.

But then, he pulled away suddenly. 'I should go,' he said. He stepped away from her and she felt a vacuum of warmth where his body had been.

'What?' she echoed dumbly.

'Goodbye. My lady.' He bowed, a ridiculous bow, pressing a chaste kiss to a hand she hadn't realised she had clenched.

And then he was gone. She watched as his lithe figure fell out of view, his cat tail made out of a leather belt swaying slightly with each step. When he was almost indistinguishable from the night surrounding him she thought he might have turned around, but she couldn't be sure. Her heart beat fast, and she realised the emotion swelling at the pit of her stomach felt a lot worse than being told she'd never make it in fashion in Paris because of her mixed heritage. Felt a lot worse than receiving her sketches back marked all in red with critical questions and the request to start from scratch. Felt worse than the awkwardness of setups from Alya. It was a whole other level of rejection. And the feeling was only growing inside of her as she remembered what she would've sworn was actual chemistry. Actual physical proof that she could like someone, that being with someone might not be awful.

She wiped away a tear she didn't realise had formed on her masked cheek. Maybe some people had time for romance. Some people had time to put their heart out on the sleeves and have it squeezed by strangers on Halloween. But, Marinette decided, she did not. She wanted to be a fashion designer. She knew it was a ruthless cutthroat world and as someone who wasn't born with connections, she'd have to make them on her own through networking. She'd have to build a portfolio she could be proud of, that no fashion house could turn down. She was busy. And she did not need anybody to complete her. There was no yin to her yang. There was just her. And she'd do just fine.

And anyway. What good could have come out of romance that began on the night where ghouls and ghosts walked the earth? What luck could have come out of meeting a literal black cat on Halloween?

The present day

Tapping idly at the countertop, Marinette took out her phone to check the time. 3:58 PM. One hour until closing time. Even though she hadn't worked at the bakery for a while, some things were hard to forget. Sunday afternoon slowness was one of those things. Her internship had started and though it had only been a week, Marinette could confidently say that working at Gabriel was all it was cracked up to be. Yes, the work was hard but for someone who lived and breathed fashion, every corner was a feast for her eyes. The hands-on projects they were involved in already exceeded the scope of her previous internships. And Nathaniel and Rose, fellow interns she met on the first day, seemed really nice.

She decided to wipe down the counter and rearrange the few remaining baked goods left for the day. Now it was 4:07PM.

Earlier that week, she had been surprised when Papa had asked whether she'd be able to take a Sunday afternoon shift for them. When she asked why because she knew it wasn't usually busy he had said something about a regular customer he didn't want to disappoint even though her parents had to go out of town. So there she was. Back where it all began.

4:09PM. Minutes somehow went slower when you were trying to count them. She unlocked her phone to shoot a message to Alya.

Psst Alya

Alya responded instantly - like Marinette hoped she would. That girl was addicted to her phone.

What's up, girl? Slow shift at the bakery?

You know it.

I'm taking a break from writing my article now anyway.

I wish the bakery was on break.

If it was on break, wouldn't you pretty much be doing the same thing? I.e. Texting me? :P

I suppose I am on break then. I don't even know why I'm here! Sunday afternoon shifts are the absolute slowest. Papa said something about a regular customer who visits but I haven't seen a soul since Mr Ramier came by to buy some crusts for the pigeons after lunch.

Maybe the regular customer was Mr Ramier?

Marinette paused to contemplate that. That could be true. Why didn't she think of that?

Why you always gotta have so much common sense, Alya? What would I do without you?

Live your whole life with your head in the clouds, I'm sure.

Marinette laughed a little at that. She couldn't deny it. She was interrupted by the tinkling sound of the bell as a customer walked in. She quickly texted out:

A WILD CUSTOMER APPEARS

And when she looked up, she froze. For she knew the figure walking towards her. Blonde hair, lips stretched wide in an easy smile and today, a profile chiseled by the Greek gods and today, a hoodie with cat ears. Really?

'Marinette!' he warmly gushed. Then he paused and asked, bewildered, 'What are you doing here?'

'Me? I live here. What are you doing here?'

She felt her phone buzz in her pocket.

Who was it? Anyone you knew?

She quickly texted back: Adrien

'You … live here?' he echoed slowly, his nose adorably scrunched in confusion.

'Yeah, well I live upstairs. I'm helping my parents out with the bakery. I do this sometimes. Because I'm magnanimous.'

Adrien just nodded slowly. What was with him?

Her phone buzzed again and she saw from the text preview that Alya had sent her a couple of smirking emojis, a love heart eyes emojis and had also thrown in the thirsty emoji for good measure.

'I should go,' he blurted out suddenly.

'Wait, why? Without buying anything? Papa said a regular customer comes in on Sunday afternoons.'

'Yes, well, I have been coming in a bit more regularly I suppose…'

'What's your usual order?'

'One passionfruit macaron.'

Marinette reached over to the macaron display cabinet, selected the one remaining passionfruit macaron and placed it in a paper bag.

Adrien pulled out a bill to pay for it and when their hands touched briefly as she passed him the paper bag, she noticed the tips of his ears match his blushing face.

'Do you,' he began, 'do you really not remember me?'

'Of course I do? You're Adrien? We saw each other like last week at my apartment for Alya's moving day?'

'No, I mean from before that.'

'At the pet store?' Marinette was genuinely confused.

'Before that,' he insisted. 'Wait, this might help.' He pulled on his black hoodie, the cat ears sticking up on top of his now mostly covered blonde hair.

'I did notice you make interesting fashion choices for someone who works in fashion.'

He let out a groan of frustration and pushed the hood back down. 'I'm really sorry, Marinette. I know it was more than a year ago, but I was at a tricky time in my life. And when I met a girl dressed up as a Ladybug at Alya's Halloween party last year I-'

Marinette cut him off. 'Halloween? Last year?' she asked, eyes widening.

He squirmed uncomfortably.

'Chat Noir?'

'They say cats always land on their feet, but when we first met you swept me off mine?' the joke came out like a question.

'No,' she mouthed silently, looking away from him.

'Marinette?' his face appeared in her periphery as he leaned over the counter.

She shook herself and covered her face. Her voice came out in a whisper, 'Please leave,' she requested.

'But your father said to-'

'This is a lot to take in,' she interrupted. 'And as you can see, I'm at work now.'

He turned back to look at her, contrition shining in those familiar green eyes as he stood by the door. 'I really am sorry, Marinette.'

As the sound of the doorway bell jingled faded away like his retreating back Marinette brought out her phone.

ALYA. ADRIEN WAS CHAT NOIR.

Chat Noir? You mean that boy last Halloween that ghosted you?

YES. HE JUST ADMITTED IT.

What did you do?

What do you think I did? I asked him to leave. I can't handle this

Omg. Marinette. This is going to be the biggest irony, but Nino and I were mad at Adrien too during that party because we had planned for him to meet you but he bailed super early and all he could talk about was "my lady" afterwards and it took me a long time to stop being frosty with him.

Omg. Marinette.

Hnnghhjlskkjdsf

*heart emoji* x 3

:( *hugs*

Why didn't he ever contact me, Alya? And more importantly, wHY does that bother me so much?

Her phone indicated that Alya was typing, probably a long response. Marinette sighed and pushed her fringe out of her eyes, leaning her elbows down on the counter.

Essay time!
Firstly, Marinette, I'm 100% on your side. If you think he's trash and you never want to talk to him again, I fully support that.
Secondly - and please don't hate me - but I'm just going to point out that you don't know why he never contacted you. Yes, ghosting is deplorable, but I know Adrien. He's one of the kindest guys I know. I mean he volunteered to help me move. Volunteered! And his job and home situation means... he faces a lot of unique pressures.
Thirdly - and I'm sorry to say this, but you know I don't mince words - I know you have unresolved feelings for him. You literally have only ever talked to me about two guys. And it turns out they're the same freaking guy! I'm sorry you're hurting, but getting closure probably would help. This is his number. When you're feeling up to it, maybe you should talk.

Marinette disliked each point more the further she went along. But Alya delivered truth like a bomb - all at once, and painfully. Is this what journalism school had taught her? Marinette sighed, the fight gone out of her. She replied with one word.

Ok.

Alya sent her Adrien's contact details and she stared at the stupid 10 digit number. But first thing's first. She needed to close up shop first.

By the time she'd cleared all the store windows, wiped all the flat surfaces, mopped the floor and recorded the cash in the register, Marinette was tired. His number in her phone felt like a tiny niggling weight in the back of her mind. She remembered how his face lit up when he called her name when he first entered the store. She remembered his ridiculous Chat Noir bow and the way the tips of his ears turned red when he was embarrassed. He was embarrassed by this. He had said he was sorry. She sighed, one large exhale she couldn't help escaping from her mouth.

She'd bite the bullet. She pressed on the little phone icon under his contact name. After a few rings, he picked up.

'Hello?' his voice greeted her.

'Hi Adrien.'

'Marinette,' his voice broke as he uttered her name. He'd met her four times and yet already knew her voice. 'Marinette, I'm so sorry.' It all came out in a rush. 'I know it's no excuse, but my father, he, he takes my reputation very seriously. And last year I had been involved in some scandals because this girl I used to model with had gone to the paparazzi, spreading all these lies, claiming she was pregnant with my baby. And my father didn't believe me and I hadn't even ever kissed the girl, let alone slept with her.' He broke off in a choked sob. 'And it was all over the news. I just… My father thought I was going to have to marry her. The tests she underwent came back negative, but not before I'd been put on literal house arrest. And when I snuck out and met you, you were like a breath of fresh air and I shouldn't have kissed you, I shouldn't have brought you home.'

'I'm pretty sure I'm the one that kissed you first,' added Marinette.

He laughed in a pained kind of way. 'It all blew over in the end. She was lying, of course she was. And you can only fake a pregnancy for so long before science reveals the truth to a paternity claim. But I … I felt so bad. For leading you on. For turning away. For never being brave enough to come back… After the incident my father instituted a total ban on my love life. I haven't missed it to be honest but I'd never forgive myself if I let you get away without telling you that I felt something for you back then. And you are amazing. And I'm sorry. And I've ruminated on that day for a very long time, regretting much of it but not being able to regret meeting you.' He added, after a pause, 'If you never want to see me again, I understand.'

Marinette paused on her end of the line, digesting his words, feeling them stew within her and settle somewhere in her gut. It was a lot to take in. Her voice was barely more than a whisper, 'I do want to see you again.'

'You don't have to be nice to me, Marinette. You can tell me the truth, I won't be offended.'

'Really,' she emphasised, her voice stronger now. 'I would like to be your friend, if that's okay with you.'

He replied, 'I would like that very much.'

They talked for four more hours after that. About topics ranging from hamster nail care to their future dreams. When Marinette closed her eyes to sleep that night, her phone buzzing with a goodnight text from Adrien, she smiled to herself. It was fitting that he first met her as a witch's familiar on Halloween because she was sure he had cast some kind of spell on her. He would enjoy that kind of joke.

Laying aside his penchant for speech apologies, his father issues and insecurities, she could see someone genuinely kind. Someone who could brighten her day with his optimism and dorky humour. Someone who could make her laugh. Maybe she wasn't ready to be more than friends with anyone yet, but having him in her life would make life a little sweeter. And, something she found out Tikki had in common with her recently actually, she'd always had a sweet tooth.

Author's Note: Do you forgive Chat Noir for breaking Ladybug's heart?

Honestly this was hard to write, because Adrien is usually a sweet pea. He was younger back then, and revelling in the freedom of a mask. He didn't mean to get so emotionally attached. Or to hurt anyone. He did visit the bakery again, sporadically for a while as he could between work. And then recently, more regularly, in the hopes that he'd see her. But he kept only seeing her dad. One day, he struck up conversation with Tom Dupain about meeting Mr Dupain's daughter at a costume Halloween party once. Mr Dupain soon connected the dots. And then asked Marinette to take the Sunday shift. COINCIDENCE? OR FATE?