Marinette staggered at the thunderous blast, falling into Chat Noir and toppling them both. She looked over her shoulder and felt sick. An orange glow drowned out the street lamps, and she could hear the fierce hissing and spitting and cracking of the flames. Smoke already billowed up into the night, the acrid smell alone enough to let Chat Noir know what the situation was if the heat itself didn't do it.
It was the bakery.
The bakery was on fire.
And her parents were still at home, upstairs if they hadn't been in the kitchen….
"I have to go," she said, scrambling to her feet and taking off at a run.
She could see flames on the first floor, licking at the walls around the shattered window glass, so she went in through her room on the upper floor, wincing as the heat hit her anew and the smoke stung her eyes. Being Ladybug did not make her immune to flames or smoke inhalation, so she grabbed a scarf and tied it around her nose and mouth—it was better than nothing—before running into the hallway and shouting her parents' names.
Marinette found her mother first—from the looks of things, she had been folding laundry in the bedroom—and got her out to the street in short order, not liking how the floor had creaked under their weight. Marinette waited just long enough to assure herself that Sabine would be fine, that she hadn't been burned and that the coughing would subside now that she was in the fresh air. A quick glance over to the park revealed that Chat Noir was gone; presumably, he intended to help out once he could see properly again. Marinette pushed it from her mind and headed back into the flames, leaving behind the cool night air and running headlong into the furnace; her mother may be all right, but she'd said her family was still inside.
It was hard to keep her stinging eyes open, between the heat and the smoke, but Marinette pushed on, leaping over some obstacles and ducking under others as she searched. The explosion had not been kind to her home, turning the family business into an obstacle course of burning debris, broken glass, blackened walls, and collapsed displays. She was only aware of the immediate dangers, too intent on her goal to do more than extinguish the flames when she finally noticed her hair had caught.
Marinette found her father in the bakery's industrial kitchen, slumped unconscious by the far counter. The bleeding gash in his head looked like a mere scrape next to his scorched flesh. Flames licked at the remainder of his clothes and Marinette beat them out before they could do any more damage. The sight made her stomach turn, and she tried to swallow down her nausea with her fear. She was only partly successful; the fear remained stubbornly stuck in her throat. "Monsieur Dupain," she whispered. She tried saying his name again, louder, and her voice cracked.
He didn't stir.
Marinette didn't know what else to do, so she used her Lucky Charm. She was hoping for anything from a fire extinguisher to a stretcher, preferably on wheels.
She got a compact.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" Marinette scowled and put it down, thinking that it was just as well Chat Noir wasn't here to make a crack about makeup. The powder inside the compact would surely be flammable if it were allowed to float like dust through the air, and she didn't want to make things worse. One explosion was enough. For it to have been this severe, there must have been flour in the air. Marinette knew her father. Tom was not forgetful or lax when it came to safety. For the ventilation system to have gone down and allowed the flour to ignite, for the sprinkler system to stop working…. It didn't make sense.
Marinette wiped at her forehead, trying to keep the sweat from dripping into her eyes. It was a very good thing the mask was magically adhered to her face or she'd have lost it already. A glance at the back door confirmed that, barring the flames, the path was clear. Good. She doubted she had much time, and it would be a struggle to get Tom out of here regardless. As for the Lucky Charm…. She could figure out what to do with the compact once she got her father safely away from the fire.
Marinette moved to sling Tom's arm over her shoulder so she could half carry, half drag him out, but before she could touch him, the flames around them roared with renewed vigour. The heat, the smoke, even the smell…. It was dizzying.
This was no ordinary fire.
If Marinette had had any lingering doubt, it vanished as the flames nearest her coalesced into the shape of a man, featureless but for the flickering flames. Her mouth felt drier than normal, but she made it work anyway as she straightened up to face the figure. "Who are you?"
"I am Flamethrower." His voice was steady, stronger than the crackling and spitting of the fire around them, but she didn't recognize it. "I devour those who have tried to devour me."
"What did this man ever do to you?" Marinette cried, gesturing at her father. She'd always thought of him as a fair man, a good man—not someone who would ignite the desire for revenge.
"He has done nothing, but you, Ladybug…."
Marinette blanched. "You're harming an innocent man because of me?"
"Because of who he is to you, Ladybug."
Marinette's world spun. He couldn't know. He mustn't know.
"Give me your Miraculous," Flamethrower said as her earrings sounded in warning for the first time, "and neither I nor my master will bother you again."
"H-how?" She didn't think she could deny it, but…. She saw a creeping shadow by the back door and realized Chat Noir was easing his way inside. She swallowed and did her best to keep Flamethrower's attention on her. "How did you ever come to that conclusion? That this family is more important to me than any other?"
"Because it is yours, Ladybug," Flamethrower hissed. "You are the baker's daughter, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."
Chat Noir froze.
"I know Marinette," Marinette said with far more confidence than she felt. She had no idea how long Flamethrower had been there, hidden in the fire. For all she knew, he could transport himself between the flames like Alya had been able to move through cell phones as Lady WiFi. He certainly appeared to be made of flames. "She is at her friend Alya's tonight. But I am not her."
Flamethrower stepped closer to her; the heat was nearly unbearable, and sweat poured more steadily down her face. "My master saw you," he taunted. "He saw the little girl you are beneath the mask." His head tilted, and she could make out vague features of the man behind the flames now. "And I found you for him."
Sirens. She finally heard sirens, these ones seeming to get closer instead of farther away. Marinette remembered the ones she'd heard earlier and wondered what had happened to the others Flamethrower had decided to investigate. Her mother had mentioned something about arson over dinner tonight, but Marinette hadn't been paying much attention, too worried about her meeting with Chat Noir.
"You may have found Ladybug, but you didn't find the girl beneath the mask." Marinette crossed her arms. The scarf over her mouth slipped off, but she didn't tighten or retie it. She didn't want to risk looking fidgety—especially since she only had so much time before she did become Marinette again. Her earrings beeped, driving that point home. "And a lucky thing for Marinette that she wasn't here when you mistook me for her, making threats she wouldn't even understand."
Chat Noir had begun moving again, and she realized he was carrying a fire extinguisher. She had no idea where he had gotten it from—one of the neighbours, perhaps? It wasn't theirs, which was wedged behind some debris that had fallen against the far wall—but she was grateful anyway. She wasn't convinced that it would help, exactly; the fire was clearly far too large for one little extinguisher. Still, it was better than nothing. It had to be better than a compact.
Marinette dropped slowly down to a crouch to pick up the Lucky Charm regardless; it was bound to be useful sooner or later. Somehow. She always got something she needed, something that would be useful with a bit of luck, and she had no doubt the magic had provided her with something that would help defeat Hawk Moth's latest victim. Still, Flamethrower's eyes followed her movements, and she half expected him to live up to his name and send a fireball toward her. She wouldn't put it past him to be able to do that, but she had to keep taunting him. She needed to keep his attention on her and she needed to convince him that she wasn't Marinette.
She needed to convince Chat Noir, too. Didn't she?
"Really, Hawk Moth saw no more of me earlier than he does now if he believes I'm that girl," Marinette added flippantly as she straightened up. "How clearly do you think he can see, looking through someone else's eyes?"
"You are her," Flamethrower roared, the blaze around them responding to his anger and growing in intensity. "I see what others do not when they walk blindly past me every day, and you are the baker's daughter!"
Practice was all that kept Marinette from trembling, all that kept her voice steady and challenging. "You truly believe that? So Marinette is the first girl you presented to Hawk Moth as a candidate for Ladybug? You never had to consider anyone else?"
Flamethrower howled and leapt forward. Marinette braced herself—she couldn't leap out of the way and leave her father exposed—and suddenly Chat Noir was there beside her, foam erupting from the extinguisher. "Hate to rain on your parade," Chat Noir said over the rushing sound of the extinguisher, "but Ladybug is right. I've seen her and Marinette together, and that Ladybug wasn't just a copycat."
Marinette knew that was a lie, of course, but in that moment she could have kissed him.
Flamethrower's fire had been thoroughly doused. A foam-covered teenage boy stood in his place, his black suit slashed with gold in a way that was reminiscent of the flames themselves. The light lasted for a split second before fire around them went out as quickly as if Chat Noir had drenched the entire building with water. Marinette blinked in the sudden darkness, wishing her eyes would adjust faster. "Hawk Moth will need to keep looking if he's to find the real me," Marinette said, looking the boy up and down to see where the akuma might be hiding. The meagre light coming in from outside did little to illuminate anything, as far as she was concerned, and she envied Chat Noir his night vision.
Flamethrower growled and tried to shake off the foam. Once he moved, she spotted a small cigarette lighter clenched in his hand. He clicked it, and as the flame sprang to life, steam rose from his body. Marinette's eyes darted around the room as she tried to figure out how to make her Lucky Charm useful. A shadow moved to her left as Chat Noir dropped the spent fire extinguisher and extended his staff, but none of that…. Marinette's eyes went back to the flame of the lighter. Flamethrower had danced back, misinterpreting the range of Chat Noir's staff, but even after the explosion they had limited room to move. She intended to guard her father, but her yo-yo would be more useful for blocking the exits off for Flamethrower than tying him up when she had so little room to manoeuvre.
Marinette clicked open the compact and smiled. This time, it would be easier to let Chat Noir snatch the lighter—the akuma had to be in it—while she distracted their opponent. Flamethrower was guarding the lighter and getting drier by the moment. She shifted the compact in her grip and glanced at her partner. He nodded and turned his attention back to Flamethrower, using his staff to vault over the counter and away from Marinette. Flamethrower's eyes flicked to him, and Marinette started trying to catch the reflection of the light in the compact's mirror.
That was something easier said than done, considering that Flamethrower kept dodging Chat Noir's attacks, but Flamethrower was the one at a disadvantage now. Chat Noir could see perfectly well, and Marinette's target was easily illuminated. He didn't notice her trick until the light was reflected into his eyes. He jerked back, and Chat Noir brought his staff down on the arm holding the lighter just as the flames sprang up again. The lighter dropped from his grip, the fire snuffed out again as the lighter hit the floor and skittered across to Marinette.
She brought her heel down on the lighter with a crack, releasing the akuma. She caught and cleansed it easily and watched as the little butterfly fluttered out of one of the broken windows. Not for the first time, she was grateful she had the power to erase the damage done here today. The bakery should not look like this, and her father….
Marinette's Miraculous gave another warning beep; she didn't have much time left before her transformation wore off. For the second time that night, she threw her Lucky Charm into the air and watched the magic disperse before it hit the ceiling, restoring everything—and everyone—to its proper order. The memory of the smoke still stung her nostrils, but her lungs felt clear and the bakery looked like it should. Her suit was no longer streaked with soot. Hawk Moth's magic was driven away from Flamethrower, and her father….
Tom was breathing. His eyes were open, and he was watching them, shifting himself into a sitting position as he took in his surroundings. As he remembered—as he realized—what had happened.
Her attention was drawn back to the former akuma victim at his stuttering words. "W-what…? Where am I?" The boy who had been Flamethrower was looking around in utter confusion. She still did not recognize him, but he looked a little older than she was, with sandy blond hair and hollow cheeks and rather grimy clothes. She was tempted to stuff a box of croissants into his hands before sending him off. She thought she would do that, once she found him again. He had to have known to look for her here somehow.
"The best bakery in town," Chat Noir answered with a wink at Marinette. His staff had returned to its small baton size and was secured again on his hip. Rather than partake in the usual acknowledgement of a completed mission, he took the boy by the shoulders and led him out, chattering away. He was giving her time—or maybe skipping their usual ritual was his way of saying that things weren't over, that they still needed to talk. She couldn't agree more.
Marinette's father climbed to his feet with a groan. Seeing him alive and well, standing before her, made her relax. He took her hand and shook it, a familiar, friendly smile on his face. "Thank you, Ladybug," Tom said. "I'm not sure what exactly happened, but thank you. If you and Chat Noir ever want to stop by for something sweet, you're more than welcome."
"You're welcome," she said, "and thank you for the invitation, but I have to go now." She made a dash for the door but didn't have time to make it very far before her transformation wore off completely. She tucked the exhausted Tikki into her jacket pocket before circling around the block so she could come around the front of the shop. She ignored the beeping from the phone in her purse that was undoubtedly heralding messages and missed calls from Alya. Marinette could speak with her friend later. She needed to find her parents first, letting them know she was all right and assuring herself that they were, too. And then, as soon as she had swiped a few cookies for Tikki, she intended to meet Chat Noir, assuming she could find him.
They had a conversation to finish.
Adrien had been tempted to look for Ladybug after the fight—she was the one running out of power, not him—but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He'd let her go for the same reason he'd led Hawk Moth's victim away with nothing more than a wink, for the same reason he hadn't asked Tikki about Ladybug's identity earlier. It was her secret, and he had no right to intrude on it.
Adrien had made a big show of leaving after introducing Christophe—the boy who had become Flamethrower—to Marinette's mother. She had praised both Chat Noir's and Ladybug's work and sympathized with the young man who no longer had any memory of terrorizing her family. She didn't know, after all, that Flamethrower had targeted them, had targeted Marinette—but then again, neither did he. Not anymore.
Seeing Sabine Cheng fuss over Christophe had been…hard, in a way. It shouldn't be. Adrien knew that. But he craved that sort of attention, the sort he never received anymore, and it had been hard to wear his usual mask of confidence when his heart was inwardly breaking. No one would be treated that way at his house, had something similar happened. Nino had practically been thrown out the last time he'd shown up, and that had been before he'd even become Bubbler.
Adrien had made his escape before Tom Dupain had walked out of the bakery to join his wife, but a part of him had wanted to stay. He'd wanted to be included in Sabine's mothering, in Tom's encouraging words. He wouldn't have minded pretending, just for a moment, that he was part of a loving family. Instead, he'd said his goodbyes and leapt up to the rooftops, vanishing into the shadows before circling around and creeping back into the park. Now he was sitting in a tree, watching from afar as Christophe went off with a box of baking gratefully received from Tom. He watched as Tom pulled out a cell phone and made a call—probably to his daughter. He watched, and he waited. He wasn't sure Ladybug would show up, but he…. He wanted to talk to her.
Now more than ever, after what had happened with Flamethrower.
He saw Marinette hurrying up the street, saw her mother envelop her in a hug, and watched as her father joined in. His heart twinged; he wished he had that sort of relationship with his father. After his mother…. Sometimes it felt like Gabriel Agreste viewed his son only as an asset these days, now that the easy days of childhood and laughter were nothing more than distant memories. His relationship with his father bordered on being strictly professional.
There were no hugs, no kisses, barely a touch on the shoulder now and then.
Adrien was not supposed to need that now that he was older. He should not need coddling, and he certainly needed no one else fawning over him. There should not be congratulations or even acknowledgement of a job well done when such was expected of him. He should be focusing on his studies and his modelling career; he should not suffer distractions like birthday parties or waste his time with sentiment.
It was a very good thing his father had no idea about his responsibilities as Chat Noir or the freedom being the hero gave Adrien; it was unlikely that he would approve, however much good Adrien did as Chat Noir, and Adrien hated the thought of disappointing his father more than he already did.
Ladybug made a very good point about the danger of their identities being known—the incident with Flamethrower drove that point home very well—but as much as Adrien wanted to protect his father, he was still willing to accept the risks. Despite what had happened tonight, he was confident that he could protect his father and Nathalie and everyone else, and he didn't want to keep secrets from Ladybug. He wanted someone in his life besides Plagg—and now Tikki—to know the truth. He thought it might make things easier, sometimes, to speak with someone else who understood what it was like, living this double life. He couldn't share the truth with Nino; he wanted to share it with Ladybug.
Besides, Plagg talked more about his favourite varieties of cheese and how they were made than he did about anything else. Somehow, regardless of what Adrien asked him, they always ended up on the topic of cheese if it turned into a longer conversation. Adrien knew more about cheese now than he had ever thought possible prior to meeting the kwami. After meeting Ladybug's kwami, he was beginning to wonder if that was more deliberate on Plagg's part than he'd ever realized.
If Tikki didn't like to talk to Ladybug about what had happened in the past, it stood to reason that Plagg wouldn't, either, and would distract Adrien from the topic whenever it came up.
Adrien wasn't sure how long he waited. He'd phoned in to report the fire while Plagg was gorging himself before he'd ever searched for a fire extinguisher and entered the bakery, but it wasn't until after he'd left it that the emergency services had come and gone. He was thinking he really should just go out and patrol when Ladybug swung up onto the branch beside him. He hadn't even been paying enough attention to realize which direction she'd come from.
"You waited for me, kitty cat," she observed, a slight smile on her face.
"I'll always wait for you, my lady."
Her smile faded and she glanced in the direction of the bakery. "Chat Noir, what you said earlier…."
"About me wanting you to know the truth? This hasn't changed my mind, if that's what you're thinking. If you'll hear me out—"
"About me and Marinette," she interrupted. She refused to meet his eye, a very un-Ladybug-like thing to do.
He hesitantly reached out one hand to cup her chin and turn her face toward him. She didn't pull away. "You know as well as I do that Marinette isn't the first girl Flamethrower would have gone after if all he had to go on was a vague description of you, my lady, and I didn't want him harming anyone."
"So you didn't…didn't think…?"
He had thought. Not before tonight, admittedly, but he had thought. He still wasn't sure, but he didn't want to be like Flamethrower, chasing down coincidences and similarities. That route was too painful, and he couldn't risk being wrong. He wanted to be sure. He wanted to know.
But he understood now more than ever Ladybug's caution.
"I don't know what to think," he admitted, dropping his hand so it rested lightly on hers. She twitched and pulled away, but not far—barely a hair's width. He tried not to read too much into that, whatever it might mean. "I will not ask you again to part with your secret. I know it is yours to share if you wish."
"Thank you." The words were barely a whisper. "For this, and for earlier, with Flamethrower and everything before that."
"I would do anything for you, my lady." The words made her stiffen for some reason, and he hurried on before he lost his nerve. "I understand your position, but I am not in the same one as you—"
"I don't want to know who you are. This…this was precisely why we can't know, why no one can know. I'll think of something to solve the communication problem. We need something with safeguards, something to keep the distance between us—"
Distance was the last thing he wanted. "Ladybug—"
His Miraculous beeped.
"You need to go," she said.
"It's quiet here," he countered. "Just the two of us." He hadn't realized he was running so low on power, but evidently the quick transformations and long time spent as Chat Noir were taking their toll on Plagg despite the fact that he hadn't used Cataclysm. Plagg must not have been exaggerating when he'd said he hadn't had enough to eat, but Adrien could turn this to his advantage, if his lady was willing.
"It's out in the open," she pointed out.
"Then we'll just have to climb higher." He took her hand before she could protest and leapt up into the dense canopy of the tree. He stopped before her shock wore off—something he might have jokingly gloated over in other circumstances, considering this was Ladybug.
Ladybug looked horrified. "You aren't thinking this through," she insisted as another beep pierced the air. "Can you even give me one good reason—?"
"I want you to know," he interrupted earnestly. He couldn't voice the words I love you, not right now, not when there was too great a danger that she'd laugh in his face or think he was making a poorly timed joke, but it meant the same to him. I want you to know. I love you. Je t'aime. But he couldn't just tell her that, especially not right now.
Ladybug pursed her lips, but there was an air of finality in her tone when she finally spoke, and the words drove a dagger into his heart. "That's not reason enough, and I thought you'd know that."
Chat Noir looked as if she'd struck him. Marinette wanted to gather him into her arms and apologize, but she couldn't be taken in by him acting wounded right now. This was too important a matter. Marinette took a deep breath to steel her resolve, something far easier said than done. "It's a very selfish reason," she said practically. "Plagg would not have chosen you to be Chat Noir just so you could be selfish."
Chat Noir blinked at her, clearly startled. "You've never met Plagg, have you?" He continued without giving her a chance to point out that, no, of course she hadn't. "He isn't at all like Tikki, not when it comes to his personality. I wouldn't exactly describe him as selfless."
"That still doesn't grant you leave to make a decision like this for all the wrong reasons." Another beep. A quick glance at his ring told her she needed to try to convince him of his folly before he convinced her of the reverse—or before she did meet Plagg and the question of whether they ought to continue keeping their secrets from each other became moot.
"Believe me, my lady, I am making this decision for all of the right reasons, even if I cannot explain them to you right now. Trust that my intentions are true. I don't wish to hide from you any longer, and it is my secret to share. Please accept it."
He was not going to make this easy for her, was he?
"Chat Noir, we can't. What if it's not just our families? What if we can't protect the people we care about? What if Hawk Moth manages to get one of us and we turn on the other? It's not worth the risk! Some secrets are meant to be kept."
"And some are sweeter for knowing. Ladybug, for me, it is worth the risk." He looked at her with wide eyes, and she found herself trying to see the boy behind them. The final warning from his ring shattered the silence between them; he was running on borrowed time now. She closed her eyes and turned away, wrenching her hand from his.
"No."
"My lady—"
"No," she repeated, her voice threatening to shake if she said any more. He tried to turn her around as the beeping on his ring intensified. It finally cut off, and even though she was wearing her suit, she noticed the moment gloved hands became bare. She took a deep breath and kept her eyes shut, refusing to look.
"My lady, please."
His voice was softer now, pleading, but otherwise unchanged. It made her heart leap into her throat because it just seemed so familiar, but she couldn't tell how much of that was due to her wild imagination. "I can't," she whispered. "We…we can't." She tore herself away and dove out of the tree, rolling as she hit the ground, and then her yo-yo was out and she was swinging away into the night before she could change her mind.
He'd been there. He'd been right there, and she'd just….
Marinette didn't stop until she reached the Eiffel Tower, and then she settled herself in the framework halfway up to the lowest tier and finally admitted to herself that she was crying.
Adrien sat down on the branch and leaned against the trunk, stunned that Ladybug had fled. Plagg lay panting on a nearby twig, perfectly balanced but just heavy enough that the twig was beginning to bend under his weight. Any cheese Adrien had with him was still in the bag he'd left by the park entrance nearest the bakery, but Adrien made no move to retrieve it yet. "Did I make a mistake?"
Plagg muttered something Adrien couldn't make out.
Adrien sighed and scooped up the kwami and put him in his pocket before making his way down the tree with considerably less grace than Ladybug. Plagg wasn't much of a conversationalist when he was eating, so while he cleaned up the last of the cheese Adrien had brought, Adrien sat down and tried to answer his own question. What if he had made a mistake?
He was willing to take the risk, but if Ladybug wasn't….
Adrien buried his face in his hands. "This is a mistake, isn't it, Plagg? I pushed too hard, and…." He trailed off, looking up again to see Plagg searching for crumbs of reblochon. He'd get no help in this for a while.
Maybe it was a matter of trust. Maybe, even after all this, Ladybug wasn't sure she could trust him. Wasn't sure she should trust him, and for reasons other than just who he was. But maybe…maybe he could give her the choice again, since he knew her curiosity was there. He had prepared for the possibility, though at the time he'd been thinking he wouldn't be able to confess and face her reaction. If nothing else, this was a way to ensure she'd be able to find him more easily if this happened again. And he….
Well, it perhaps wouldn't be amiss to have a direct line to Ladybug in case of emergency, and vice versa. Adrien knew he made enough money modelling that his father, if he became aware of the expense, would not be able to outright forbid it, however much he might make his displeasure known. Adrien could pick up a pair of cell phones tomorrow, once the shops opened, and present Ladybug with the solution that night—or earlier, if they happened to run into each other. It was not a flawless solution, of course, but it was the only thing Adrien could think of right now.
Plagg had collapsed snoring onto the grass, so Adrien snatched him up and transformed. He slung the bag crosswise over his shoulder before leaping up and taking to the rooftops. He wasn't sure he'd made the decision to try to follow Ladybug's path until he found her at the Tower, and then he landed beside her. "I'm sorry, my lady. I never meant to distress you." He was sorry for that, but he wasn't sure he could honestly apologize for his actions.
"He almost died because of me," whispered Ladybug, though she kept staring out at the City of Lights. "M-Marinette's father, and who knows who else? Hawk Moth won't stop trying to find me now, Chat Noir. I've endangered more people than I know about, and I can't in good conscience…."
She didn't finish, but she didn't need to. "Hawk Moth won't cease trying to unmask either of us," Adrien reminded her gently, "and all he knows now is that he doesn't have enough to go on to discover your true identity."
Ladybug's shoulders shook as she tried to hold in a sob. "But erasing the damage doesn't erase the feelings or his knowledge!" She looked at him then. "What if he does find out and we can't protect people? Or what if we do find out each other's secrets and that just endangers more people? I know you want to know the truth, but I can't—"
This time when Adrien put a finger to her lips, he could see the surprised look on her face. He grinned a bit and let his finger linger there for perhaps longer than he should have, but at last he said, "I'll give you a present tomorrow. I've thought of something to try, and it might solve our communication problem."
Ladybug blinked. "Then you aren't angry with me?"
Adrien smiled softly. "I could never be angry with you, my lady. Certainly not when you have such noble reasons for acting the way you do." He was disappointed, yes, but he was not angry.
She was quiet for a moment, but in the end all she said was, "What's your solution?"
"Cell phones, each with only the other's number programmed into it. I'll take care of the details. You needn't worry about it."
Ladybug frowned. "But won't that—?"
"You needn't worry about it," repeated Adrien. "You only need to trust me."
"Of course I trust you," Ladybug said immediately, and Adrien relaxed. "You've never given me any reason not to trust you and plenty to continue doing so. It was never an issue of not trusting you."
"It's of not trusting others?" Adrien guessed.
"And of not trusting myself." Ladybug knit her fingers together. "Chat Noir, your secret, my secret, we can't…." She shook her head. "It's just not safe. If it were safe, we'd have known from the start."
Adrien wasn't sure he agreed with that, but Ladybug already knew his opinion. Instead, he reached into the bag and pulled out the sealed envelope he'd placed in there before leaving his house and handed it to her. He hadn't thought he'd need it, but he'd made the decision that he wanted her to know, and if she didn't want to hear it now, well….
Ladybug looked at him in confusion but took the envelope regardless. "What's this?"
He gave her a cocky grin. "Just my picture, in case you ever need something to remember me by."
Ladybug rolled her eyes. "You aren't an easy one to forget." She began working her fingers down the seal before stilling. She looked up at him again, eyes suddenly wide. "Unless you mean—?"
Adrien's grin faltered. "It's in case something happens," he explained, "and you need to know, even if you don't want to know now. Think of it as a failsafe."
"But if someone else finds it—"
"—they won't think anything of it. Trust me in that. It's just a photograph. It has no connection to Chat Noir. If someone else finds and opens that envelope in your stead, you might not even notice."
Ladybug chuckled. "You think I wouldn't notice a picture of a strange boy suddenly turning up in my room if one of my friends—assuming someone else did open it on me—found it and wondered who it was? I wouldn't even be able to answer them!"
Adrien's smile this time was small. "I think you'd be able to answer them," he said quietly. She might not be one of the girls who had one of his modelling pictures in her room, but he doubted she had missed every poster that was plastered around the city. "I wish it weren't true, but you would have a far better chance of finding me than I would you if I were in your position."
Ladybug's brow knit. "Chat Noir—"
"It matters not, my lady. I do not expect you to do the same in return unless you wish it, but know that this is safe, whatever your fears."
To his great relief, she didn't shred the envelope on principle. "Thank you," she said instead. "You've done more than I ever expected, even when I haven't known my own mind. I just…." She shrugged helplessly. "I don't want to make a mistake. What if I look at it and do know who you are and can't pretend I don't know the truth next time I see you as yourself? I'm afraid I'm not the best actress in the world."
"You don't need to be. You are purrfect as you are, my lady."
"Are you ever not a flirt, kitty cat?" Adrien opened his mouth, but Ladybug cut him off. "Thank you. Again. For all of this." She clutched the envelope tighter. "It…this…. You've jumped through hoops for me, Chat Noir, and I'll never be able to repay you for taking care of Tikki and returning her and the Miraculous to me. But your secret…." She hesitated. "I know you want me to know your secret. I'm just not sure I'm ready to hear it."
"All you need to do is open the envelope when you are," Adrien assured her. "Be it tonight or in ten years—" he really hoped she didn't wait that long "—know that I will always be ready for you to know. And if you ever want to entrust me with your secret in return—"
"Oh, don't say it like that, please," Ladybug interrupted. "I meant it when I said it wasn't a matter of trust. I'm just worried about what could happen once the truth is known. It'll never be forgotten once it is."
"We will weather any storm—" Adrien had no doubt about that "—so I leave the decision to you." He took her hand and brought it to his lips before she had a chance to pull away. "Thank you for considering it." He grinned at her as she snatched her hand away. "I'd best be off. Until next time, my lady—unless you choose to find me first." He leapt away before she had a chance to read the truth in his face, to sense his disappointment. He had never lied to her, but he didn't want her to know how hard it was for him to leave without blurting out the truth.
But he was used to acting, even if she wasn't.
He'd had plenty of practice, whether he'd truly wanted it or not.
Marinette watched Chat Noir leave and then looked down at the envelope in her hands. She'd torn the corner before realizing he'd meant it was a photograph of the boy beneath the mask, and she could see a corner of the glossy photo peeking out of the envelope. She couldn't see him, not really; there was a bit of a white that was visible, maybe a jacket or a shirt, but the rest was greenery, shrubs that could be found in almost every park in the city.
It told her nothing, and her fingers itched to widen the tear.
Despite all her talk, she did want to know.
Marinette gripped the envelope, well aware that she was bending the picture out of shape. "I can't look," she told herself. "It's not a matter of trust; it's a matter of safety."
She still didn't entirely believe her own words.
Marinette's patrol was cursory at best, and she was soon back in her room, lying on her bed and staring at the envelope on her pillow.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Marinette?"
Tikki had been asking a variation on that question for the past ten minutes, and Marinette still had no good answer for her. "If I were sure, I'd either have opened it or hidden it by now."
"You won't be able to forget who he is once you know," Tikki warned her, even though Marinette had said much the same to Chat Noir earlier. "You can always do the same as him in case of an emergency. Hawk Moth's victims are focused on their goal; they don't think clearly enough to remember something like that."
Marinette's breath caught in her throat. "Is that what happened before?"
Tikki fell silent, and Marinette had to prompt her three more times before she got a response. "The past is not necessarily an indication of the future," the kwami hedged. "Plagg is right about that. But we've seen patterns and cycles, and not everything has ended…pleasantly."
Marinette took a slow breath. "I know the knowledge can be a risk, Tikki, but isn't it more often a boon?"
"It has helped before," Tikki agreed carefully, "and that is why I would have told Chat Noir the truth if it had come to it. There are benefits and risks to every decision, Marinette, but you are the one who must weigh them, not I."
"I need to decide if the cost—the potential cost—is worth it." Marinette bit her lip but stretched one hand forward to pick up the envelope. She hesitated, but Tikki—who was now hovering in the corner of her vision—made no move to stop her. She snatched the envelope before she lost her nerve, rolling over onto her back and hooking her finger in it at the same time. She tore it open but made no move to remove the photograph and look at it; she just kept staring at the envelope.
"Tikki?"
The kwami floated over to land on her chest. "Trust your judgement, Marinette. I do. You wouldn't have been chosen if you were a fool."
"And neither would Chat Noir," Marinette murmured. "I trust him, Tikki. I do. I think I trust him more than I trust myself. What if I'm the one who makes a mistake and exposes him?"
Tikki did not immediately deny this possibility, which did nothing for the butterflies in Marinette's stomach. "Trusting him is important, but you still need to have confidence in yourself. Do you truly believe knowing would be for the best?"
Marinette groaned and let her arms drop. Knowing would be easier, certainly, especially when it came to keeping in contact, and Chat Noir seemed to think they'd get through whatever Hawk Moth threw at them regardless, but she wasn't so sure. She'd seen Chat Noir nearly get erased from existence—all because he'd saved her!—and that had shaken her more than she'd ever admitted to him. If she was his undoing because of this, because of something that couldn't be reversed….
She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to forgive herself.
But Tikki had advised getting to know him better, and what better way to begin understanding her partner than finding out more about him and his life? She'd have known even without Tikki's testimony that he wasn't the sort of person she couldn't stand, like Chloé. He was a bit of a flirt and a tease and maybe that was an indication of something more that she'd been blind to before, but he'd kept her best interests at heart and had impressed Tikki, and she imagined he could be a good friend. Like Nino was, perhaps, even if he was more Adrien's friend than hers. Nino wasn't someone she shared (most) secrets with like Alya, but he was funny and caring, she knew that much. Chat Noir was much more full of himself and too reckless for his own good, but he had a good heart. She knew he'd keep her secret if she told him.
And he had been chosen, just like she had been.
Marinette squeezed her eyes shut before sitting up. Tikki let out a squeak but settled on her shoulder. "You've decided?" she guessed.
"I'm going to be too distracted if I don't know at this point," Marinette admitted, "but more importantly, I trust Chat Noir. We've gotten through situations together where I wasn't sure we'd make it. We can surprise ourselves. And you're right; we'll be a better team if we know more about each other, and maybe this way we can train together. It'll give us an edge we haven't gained from just fighting together. And we won't have to wonder when the other person is going to show up at a fight if we know they're someplace they can't transform, and we can act accordingly. We can protect each other and we can support each other. I try to talk myself out of it every time I think of the risks, but…." Marinette trailed off. "Maybe the benefits will outweigh the costs this time."
Tikki said nothing, so Marinette turned the envelope over in her hands one more time before tugging out the photograph.
It was a standard 4x6 glossy, but it had been professionally taken and the subject was immediately recognizable.
It was Adrien.
A/N: My initial plan was to leave this story here—open-ended, I know—but I've been running through different reaction scenarios and I think I've found one I can run with for a couple more chapters if anyone would be interested. Either way, I hope you enjoyed this extra-long chapter. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this story and especially to those who've left reviews!