In a stark contrast to the day before, Chat Noir's gift arrived bright and early that Sunday morning.

The Dupain-Cheng family were in the middle of breakfast – banana pancakes made by Dad – when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" Marinette called out as she jumped to her feet and raced down to the back door where all deliveries were normally delivered.

She was instantly greeted with a large bouquet of deep red roses beautifully put together with dark greenery and little white snowdrops.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng?" a muffled voice asked from behind the bouquet.

"Yes," Marinette said warily, "I am she."

"For you," the delivery man said. He then thrusted a note towards Marinette. She accepted it without thought and unfolded it immediately. On the twelfth day of Valentine, the neatly typed font read, my true love gave to me, twelve dozen red roses. "And so is this," the delivery man handed the bouquet to her.

"Thank you," Marinette shifted the flowers carefully in her arms, "….when the note said twelve dozen roses….?" She asked weakly.

"There is eleven more bouquets for you in the van," the delivery man confirmed, "I hope you have lots of vases young lady."

"….Mum!" Marinette called over her shoulder. "Dad! I need help again!"

Twenty minutes later the Dupain-Cheng living room was now completely filled to the brim with red roses as Marinette's mother searched the house for anything that could resemble a vase as they only had four. So far they filled three jugs, and split three desperate bouquets into a separate little poesies into long glasses. They just needed something to find for the last two.

"Well," Mum said cheerfully, "at least this is easier to carry up the stairs than the last one. Although…." Mum eyed the note Marinette left on the coffee table between vases. "Is it just me or has he skipped a day?"

"Oh!" Marinette said flustered. "He sent me some scented candles yesterday," she said truthfully enough. "They all smell like frosting."

She had lit one after she changed into her pyjamas (and swapped her ring to point the other direction) last night and it smelt absolutely divine.

Chat Noir certainly had fantastic taste.

"Really?" Mum said. "I don't remember any deliveries coming in yesterday."

"Oh, err, they came when you and Dad were busy!" Marinette evaded quickly. "Do you think one of the unused plant pots will be good for the rest of these?!"

Mum looked sceptical but didn't press the subject as she hummed an affirmative. Marinette hastily raced to get out an unused clay plant pot when she came back the subject of yesterday was, thankfully, dropped and Marinette was able to relax a little.

"Well," Dad grinned, "it looks like I've been saved from getting your mother roses this year." Mum rolled her eyes at that but smiled fondly at Dad. "Do you think the kid brought all of the roses in Paris?" Dad teased.

"God!" Marinette groaned. "I hope not."

She could just imagine the different types of Akumas that could be caused by thwarted lovers unable to buy roses for their partners. None of them were pretty or pleasant. She didn't particularly fancy the idea of being pinned down by giant thorns or sliced by razorblade petals.

"Hmm…" Dad frowned at the television screen which was now completely obscured by three big bouquets of roses. "Could you tell your boyfriend to stick to just one bouquet in future? The rest of us would like to be able to actually watch the TV."

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"….yet," Dad smirked.

Marinette flushed but didn't argue (because he was right about that) instead she snatched up her note and rushed back to her bedroom with Dad's laughter echoing after her. She threw herself into her desk chair and dropped the note on her desk when she noticed there was something extra to the note that she hadn't noticed before.

She blinked and picked up the note again, smoothing it out so she could read the quote that Chat Noir added in his perfect hand writing.

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

She rolled her eyes.

Of course he added a Shakespeare quote! He was such a cheese ball like that!

MLBMLBMLBMLBMLBMLBMLB

Marinette let Chat Noir in with a radiant smile.

Her cheeks were rosy pink and her beautiful eyes were bright with joy. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. After an awkward few seconds she snapped it shut, swallowed, and opened her mouth again only to find nothing came out. She flushed a deeper pink as she suddenly shoved her right hand into his face.

Amused, because despite her nickname she didn't always act so princess-y and demandingly, and so he happily took her hand into his and pressed a loving kiss on her knuckles. "And good evening to you too, Princess," he drawled.

For some reason Marinette's eye twitched irritably at that. "Hi," she managed to choke out. "So was twelve dozen roses really necessary?" she asked, a lot more cheerful and not as bothered as her words would make her out to be. "Twelve roses would have made your point just as well."

"Yes but anyone can send twelve roses," Chat Noir said, "and anyone can receive twelve roses. You and I are not just anyone."

She turned red at that. "I am like anyone else," she mumbled as she suddenly clutched her right hand before her face and twisted her fingers nervously. "Or at least my house is like everyone else's, we don't have twelve vases Kitty."

"Are you saying that you don't like my present?" he pouted.

"No! I did!" she waved her hands. "No has ever sent me flowers before."

"Well," he smiled, "I can send your flowers every week if you wanted me to."

"As long as it is just one bouquet, Kitty," Marinette replied snarkily, "Dad has made it quite clear he would like to be able to see the TV in the future."

Chat Noir grinned at that. Not only had Marinette not said no to him sending her flowers - and therefore suggesting a more romantic relationship between them – but she just said that her Dad was okay with it too. He knew that Mr and Mrs Dupain-Cheng were all right with him trying to woo Marinette and taking her out on Valentine's Day but it was always heartening to hear that they still firmly approved of him.

It gave him a great deal hope for the future.

"I'll send just the one in future," he promised, "or some vases to go with them."

She blushed as deeply as she could without her face actually turning purple at that. Marinette then moved her right hand up her face slowly as she pushed some of her pretty dark hair with its blue sheen behind her ear. He followed the movement jealously, wishing he could be the one to touch her.

"So," he coughed as the silence dragged on uncomfortably, "did you like the quotation I put on? I thought….it was fitting."

"I always thought that was one of the most clichéd lines ever spoken and never really understood it before," Marinette confessed. "I mean it's Shakespeare!" she stressed in disgust. "Blergh!" he chuckled at the childish face she pulled. He knew Marinette wasn't a great reader and her dislike of puns and clichés definitely meant she was going to appreciate the genius of Shakespeare but it was still highly amusing to see her reaction. "But now….I get it," she said softly, "it fits us perfectly."

"Yes," he agreed as he eyed her adoringly, "it does."

"You will always be my partner no matter who you are under the mask," Marinette assured him, "you will always be one of my best friends. And you will always mean the world to me." She gave her right hand another strange wiggle. He didn't blink as he stared into her pretty face with hopeful awe that always mean the world to me could possibly translate to no matter who you are under the mask I will still consider you romantically. A cross look flickered across her face it smoothed out into a sly grin. "Even if," she said teasingly, "you turn out to be Chloe Bourgeois."

"Oh ha, ha!"

Marinette giggled as she wrapped her arms round him and hugged him tightly. He hugged back just as fiercely revelling her perfume and the scent of her shampoo as he nuzzled her soft, silky, hair. "At least both of you are blonde," she said pointedly.

"Yes but I don't know if you noticed this or not, Princess," he replied dryly, "but I do happen to be a boy."

"I've noticed," she murmured huskily and he felt his face heat up at that, "but that doesn't change the fact that you have seen me rescue Chloe before."

"I panicked!" he protested, "I wasn't thinking straight!"

His face burned more hotly at that. He still couldn't believe he managed to believe, even for just a couple hours, that Chloe could possibly be his amazingly brave, kind, compassionate Lady. Especially since, as Marinette pointed out, he had been there when Ladybug caught Chloe in front of all of Paris when Stoneheart threw her.

Plagg was right, he was spectacularly stupid sometimes.

"You're telling me," Marinette snorted, "but it's all in the past now," she said much more softly as twisted the fingers of her right hand again, "the point is that it doesn't matter who you are under the mask because you are still Chat. You are still that kind, silly, sweet, and brave boy. I could call you any other name," she grinned cheekily, "and you will still smell of cheese."

He groaned and blushed simultaneously at that. "Goddamnit Plagg!" he muttered as Marinette giggled again. They fell into a contented silence as Marinette wiggled her right hand pointedly in his eye line. "Princess," he murmured, feeling brave and determined, "if you keep wiggling your hand like that I will take you up on the invitation to kiss it repeatedly."

"Meep!" she squeaked.

He plucked her right hand and kissed it anyway.

"So, erm, have you noticed?" Marinette asked nervously. "That something is different, I mean!"

He kissed her hand again and little more on the centre rather than her knuckles. He glanced up warily and could see no difference in her beautiful face. Her hair hadn't changed either, it was not shorter or styled differently or randomly changed colour. He looked around and she was wearing the same clothes as she always did.

He saw no difference on her so the difference must be in her room.

Her room which was certainly cluttered with the gigantic bolts that he had sent to her on Friday. "I see what you mean," he said slowly, "They certainly do take up space don't they?"

"You….I…ah….urgh!" Marinette spluttered before she groaned. "No," she said firmly, "I meant that have you noticed something different about me?"

He was certain this must be a trick question.

Or maybe there was a reason why girls said boys were so oblivious because he really couldn't see a difference in her whatsoever.

"I honestly couldn't say, Princess," he said truthfully, "you are still blindingly pretty as ever." She flushed at that and he grinned having felt that he succeeded in not accidentally insulting her. "It's getting late," he murmured, "and we both have school tomorrow. So," he kissed her hand again, "I shall see you tomorrow."

"S-s-s-see you tomorrow!"

He kissed her hand again.

Just as he was about to leave the Dupain-Cheng building though he could have sworn he heard Marinette scream in frustration.

He didn't know why though.

Unless, he thought smugly, the wooing was working.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face that night.