From where he stood at the door to his father's colourful garden, Adrien puzzled exactly how he was going to get ahold of some of the flames that danced in the middle. Part two of his plan (having not found out nearly enough information from Alix during part one) was to smuggle some of that fire back to his home - mostly to keep up the charade of being the God of Fire long enough to enjoy it.

Getting it home wasn't a problem. Transforming into his cat form allowed him to carry all sorts of things that otherwise might be awkward. The major challenge was how to scoop it up without getting burnt or caught. The handle of the pan he'd swiped from the kitchen on Plagg's suggestion twirled mindlessly in his fingers.

With a nod to his sidekick, Adrien moved from the doorway, eyes focused on the twinkling flame of rainbow light. It had always amused him as a child - the neverending fire that didn't put out heat but was so hot it could melt just about anything. Young Adrien had tested it several times with many objects. Only once had he been foolish enough to let his fingers stay too still for too long in the heat, resulting in a painful burn which had taken a long time to recover.

Now, his goal was to simply slip in, scoop the flame, transform, run home. He wasn't fully optimistic of the plan, given that his father sat on a bench in the garden sketching. The chances of getting caught were incredibly high.

The thrill of the challenge made Adrien's blood rush, furiously pulsing in rhythm with his heart. Silent, purposeful footsteps pressed against the stone pathway, bringing him closer to his target. Only a few more and he could reach out the pan.

A deep sigh from where his father sat made Adrien stutter his footsteps enough in panic that he nearly fumbled. Gabriel's fingers pinched his nose in a typical sign of irritation. Pan slipped behind him, Adrien passed it to Plagg in hopes his friend could complete the task while he engaged with the God of Fire directly. The moment the tool was out of his hands, Adrien stepped closer to the man on the bench.

Annoyed eyes met his, steel grey to grass green.

"Adrien, why are you here? Don't you have other people to annoy?" The sharp quip grated on Adrien's nerves, forcing him to grit his teeth in practised resolve.

"Good morning, Father. I thought I would visit you for some advice." Gabriel narrowed his eyes, evidence of his distrust oozing from the frown that etched his brow.

"About what?"

"Wives." There was a moment of shock that passed Gabriel's face in such a way that it took every ounce of self-control Adrien possessed to not let out the bleat of laughter he felt. It was impossible to break through the eternal stoic expression his Father was known for. Usually, only anger balanced the detached demeanour. Which is why the look of surprise evoked such a silently giddy response in his son. The flash was gone as quickly as it had arrived, returning his father to the stern imposing man that he typically was.

"I see." There was a pause as Adrien wondered what exactly to ask or say next. "Chloe?"

Caught off guard, Adrien felt the ripple of irritation cross his face before he could help it.

"No, probably not. I haven't decided yet." Adrien shrugged. "Just thought I would ask if you had advice before I considered finding one."

Gabriel let out a long sigh, pinching his nose again.

"Fine. Choose a woman for practicality, not love. Make sure she is capable, kind, represents you well, and that you get along well. But don't fall for that love nonsense. Love has horrible consequences."

Adrien blinked.

"Like Mother?"

As soon as the words popped out of his mouth, Adrien realized his mistake. Gabriel's eyes narrowed dangerously and his jaw grit together with an audible crunch.

"Get out." The command sent Adrien fleeing, all but running down the path. Snagging the small pan from Plagg and scooping at the flame on his way by, he yelped for his transformation when the fire licked at his fingers. He barely stopped moving even while changing, four paws hitting the pavement mid-stride as he made his escape.

Chat's trip home across the valley left him thinking entirely too much - the memory of brilliant blue eyes and dark hair swimming across his mind, along with the alluring temptation of the silky looking skin that he had uncovered as he had helped her out of her gown.

What was she doing now? He hoped she hadn't gone wandering off and gotten into trouble. Maybe he shouldn't have rushed out the door so suddenly. He pushed himself faster along the small path worn into the ground leading from the valley to the back of his house. A well-practised leap landed him on his back overhang.

The house was quiet and Adrien felt a moment of worry before the combination of fresh soap and some kind of spice attacked his sensitive cat noise. Stealthily he made his way into his home, noting that the usual scent of dust was gone. She must have spent the morning cleaning while he was off doing his plans.

His hopes to observe the girl under the guise of a cat dissipated when he spied her asleep on the couch in his living room. Peace radiated from her, soft, rhythmic breathing tempting him to curl up beside her just as he was and cuddle to sleep. Instead, he dropped the transformation to return to himself.

The pan of fire burst to life in his hands. With a muffled cuss, he held it away from his body so it wouldn't burn him and looked around the room. Plagg chuckled beside him.

"So, what's the plan?"

Adrien rolled his eyes and moved to the back deck. A few quick changes and it wasn't hard to set up a special space just for the magical fire. It could burn safely outside, and hopefully, the girl would continue to believe the ruse that he was the powerful Fire God. With a cocky wink at Plagg, Adrien made his way back to where she slept.

She looked so small, curled up in the robe that was too big for her, hands tucked under her cheek. It almost seemed as if she would break if he touched her. He'd been around human women before, but he'd never been curious about them. Gently he stretched out his fingers and softly ran them over her cheek. Her skin was as soft as he had imagined. Softer maybe.

She smelled like his soap, a realization that caused a far stronger response than he expected - one that felt like he had claimed her as his own. God, how he wanted her to open her eyes and look at him as she had this morning - innocence and wonder all at once. He wanted to know her name. He wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to touch her skin again.

Still, she slept, unchanged in her breathing. Reigning in his quickly scrambled thoughts, he clenched his fists. "Behave," he chided himself. He might be the God of Mischief but he wasn't one to take advantage of a human girl - no matter how tempting she looked in his robe, in his house, smelling like that.

A frustrated groan escaped him, leaving Plagg to laugh between gulps of cheese.

"This is going to be great." A more than obvious sound of amusement oozed from the little cat's voice. "I thought this was going to be a hilarious gag on your father, but I think that watching you is going to be the best."

The look Adrien shot his partner would have likely killed a human instantly. The only effect it had on Plagg was to make him laugh harder.

Adrien looked down at her again, trying to figure out what to do now. Leave her on the couch and wait? Wake her up? Tuck her into his bed and enjoy the meal that she had left for him? He pondered for a second before reaching down and gently scooped her up in his arms. She stirred slightly, one arm flailing out in response to the movement before she curled her head into him and made a soft sigh. His heart lurched in response.

Maybe she would kill him before he even knew her name - his immortality seemed at risk as he struggled against the wash of unexpected feelings. How could one human girl that he barely knew illicit such a response from him? How could she already trust him enough to cuddle in closer to him in her sleep?

Careful steps brought them to the bedroom where he gently laid her down on his bed, pulling the blankets over her and tucking her in. Bending down to the bed level, he brushed his fingers against a dark tendril of hair that had fallen over her face. When she didn't respond, he dared to run them over her cheek again. She let out a quiet breath, and he stumbled backwards slightly at the overpowering smell of sweetness of her breath.

Did all humans have such sweet breath? He didn't know, but the call was like a siren pulling him to her. He had the sudden desperate need to taste her. To see if her lips were as sweet as her breath. How had he gotten so close to her? Another inch and her lips would be his. Her breath intermingled with his own. He ached.

Rational thought tore through him just as he was about to grab her, screaming at him to stop. He forced himself to yank away suddenly, crashing awkwardly on the floor. She didn't wake up as he scrambled out the door and pulled it shut, breathing through his mouth in panic. What had just happened? Why had she smelled like that? How had he almost lost control?

Somehow he managed to get his feet dragged to the table and flopped onto a chair in front of the plate of food that she had made while he was gone. Shovelling food into his mouth, mind whirling, Adrien still tried to piece together everything that had happened. A hangover, a woman on his doorstep calling him her husband, finding out that she was supposed to be his father's new bride, a very awkward conversation with said father, and then this strange pull to this woman.

He grabbed the bottle in the middle of the table and popped the cork, chugging down a gulp without thinking. The unexpected potency of the drink almost made him gag. He eyed the bottle as the realization that the sweetness of her breath matched the sweetness of the drink. She must have had some to drink. Where had this bottle come from? He sniffed it again, the luring pull of sweetness tempting him to take another swig. A hard swallow made him realize that there was only one god who would know what it was.

His chair crashed to the floor as he jumped to his feet, yelling for Plagg to transform him, feet flying out the door in a flash of black.

Marinette couldn't tell if she was dreaming or awake. Gentle caresses on her cheek, the feeling of arms underneath her, holding her close, the rugged smell that made her feel safe, the overwhelming softness. She couldn't decide what was real and what she was imagining. Warm breath on her face followed by loud noises and voices and then silence. She couldn't wake up. Instead, she snuggled down further into the blanket and breathed in the unfamiliar but comforting smell, letting herself tumble back into darkness.

Practised years of transformations had him changing mid-lunge when he arrived at Nino's hall, yelling out his friend's name with more aggression than he had originally intended. The God of wine jumped slightly at the intrusion, turning to find his friend still in motion. Adrien thrust the bottle into Nino's face with angry eyes.

"Did you give her this?" Adrien didn't care about how loud he was, how angry he sounded. Nino took a step backwards, glancing at the bottle with a curious look.

"Your housekeeper?" Adrien narrowed his eyes menacingly. "Woah, Dude. Lighten up. I didn't give it to her to drink. I gave it to her to give to you. You weren't home. Why? Did she drink it or something?"

"Will she be ok?"

Nino's hand clapped him on the shoulder. "Yes, yes. She'll be more than fine. She might need to sleep it off - depending on how much she had to drink, and she'll likely have one hell of a headache when she comes around." A loud laugh punctuated his comments. The tension fell from Adrien's body, leaving him a little exhausted. He collapsed into Nino's chair with a soft thud, looking at the offending bottle.

"That's one wild drink you've made this time, Nino. Sweetest thing I've ever tasted. Almost irresistible actually." Like her lips . Nino grinned.

"Special recipe I've finally perfected."

Adrien returned the grin, unable to stop the pun from escaping. "Sweet."

Nino's next question was to ask more about the girl he had decided was Adrien's housekeeper - a ruse that Adrien was more than happy to let his friend believe.

It was a good thing that Adrien could hold his drink enough to function because, by the time he made his way back home, he had finished off more of the bottle than likely was wise. The drink was intoxicating - more than the usual rounds of wine they usually drank. It was like liquid life or something. Plagg didn't look like he agreed, arguing that cheese was the food of life, not some honey-like alcohol.

The girl was still snuggled down deep into the blankets of his bed when he arrived home, sleeping as soundly as if she hadn't slept in a lifetime.

Sun dipping below the horizon, Adrien lay himself down on the bed beside her, taking care not to disturb her or to get under the blanket himself. The lethargic warmth of a body near to him combined with the drink lulled him to mindless sleep.

The soft light of the morning sun burnt her eyes, even before she dared to open them. Her mouth felt dry and her head like she had banged it on something hard. Had she tripped yesterday and hurt herself? It seemed like a puzzle she should be able to answer, but it slipped through her thoughts.

She felt confused by the sensation of softness and warmth. Her bed at home was lumpy and stiff, not this wonderful luxuriousness. Her home was drafty and her blanket was made of wool that scratched at her skin when she tucked it close, not this gentle cushion around her. She gently absorbed the understanding of differences, trying to piece things together in her scattered brain. It was when the bulk of warmth shifted and she felt breath against her hair that she forced her eyes open in panic.

The pain at first was blinding, forcing her to slam them shut again while all pretence of relaxation was exchanged for stiff panic. This time Marinette opened her eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust slightly, even though they still screamed at her in agony.

Finally awake, she took in her surroundings. Pieces of fresh memories clattered together. She was a bride of the Fire God. This was his home, his bed. She was sure she hadn't fallen asleep here and yet, here she was. An arm was casually thrown over her body, a face nestled into her neck, a body pressed against her back with only a blanket between them.

Had he put her to bed? She couldn't remember. Shifting cautiously, she turned herself around under the blanket so she could see him.

The morning sunshine streaming the window gave him the same ethereal glow that he'd had when she first met him yesterday. His hair burned a brilliant gold, his skin smooth and light. He looked so much younger than she'd expected from the stories the old women in the village told. There was none of the harsh anger in his face, just softness and gentleness that sleep can bring.

Maybe the stories were mistaken. Maybe the God of Fire was a gentle, loving husband. Maybe the stories had been told wrong. Maybe he liked to laugh, to smile. Maybe he was kind. This didn't seem like a god who destroyed villages out of rage.

She wished she dared to touch him. Instead, she closed her eyes for a moment and breathed in the scent of him. It was so much more powerful than the sheets and pillows, filling her with a shocking feeling of security. She knew nothing of him, this god that she had agreed to marry, but somehow, he felt safe.

Her eyes opened again and she nearly jumped when she found his startling green eyes staring back at her. A soft smile curled his mouth.

"Hello." His voice was rough with the sound of morning. Her brain stopped working altogether. "I don't think we've formally met. My name is Adrien. What's yours?"

She blinked a few times, trying to process. Adrien. His name was Adrien. And he wanted to know her name. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She cleared her throat and tried again.

"I…. I'm M-M-Marinette." It was a squeak. A stuttery sort of squeak. Likely more appropriate for a mouse than a girl, but at least the words had come out.

The arm around her squeezed slightly before sliding up to her face, where he gently caressed a cheek.

"Marinette." His eyes danced that same dance from the morning before, sparkling with laughter. "A beautiful name for a beautiful bride."

She could feel the flush racing across her face and she glanced away in embarrassment. He rolled over onto his back, tucking his arms under his head.

"So, Marinette - my wife… how much of my drink did you have yesterday?"

AUTHOR: Sorry for the long pause. I kind of got a bad case of writer's block.

BUT - the new song they just released for the movie reminded me of the love between our favourite love square and helped me feel like writing again. ❤️

Isn't it beautiful?