A/N: Ah, I know the Masquerade train has gone on, but I still want to finish this fic! Expect some Marichat in the next and (probably) final chapter. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Miraculous Ladybug or any of the characters.

Adrien was having doubts again—an unsurprising result of taking a long contemplative shower. He had just come back from fencing and was trying to plot out his next move with the newly discovered information that Marinette was most likely Ladybug; but with time to think in the befuddling steam and soothing waters, he was starting to retrace steps he had already taken. Yes, he had just seen Marinette's notebook with Ladybug's dress, but what if it was a coincidence? What if Marinette was just into fashion and therefore sketched Ladybug's outfit after seeing pictures? There was proof, yes, but it wasn't concrete and solid enough. He just needed one last confirming evidence before plunging into action.

On the other hand, although Adrien never exactly considered Marinette the closest of friends—as they didn't know each other extremely well—, he had to admit their personalities did seem to fit. Marinette may be clumsy as she had admitted to him at the Masquerade, but now that he thought about it, there was definitely always a hidden fiery passion for justice and goodness inside of her that came out when the situation demanded it. For Ladybug—the image of a masked super heroine—that fire was already at the forefront.

He knew one thing for sure: Ladybug was wrong about her belief that Chat Noir would like her less if he knew the real her. Despite the differences in their displayed confidence levels, the core of who they were with that fiery passion and strategic cleverness was the same—and that was what he had always loved about her the most. He knew that if a side of himself shone out as Chat, it was unsurprising that a side of Marinette would shine out in Ladybug as well. If anything, the prospect of knowing she was Marinette excited him, for he now had new territory to explore that could only further develop his feelings for her, and he was eager to jump in and experience that in novel ways.

As he dried his hair back in his room, his eyes fell once again upon Ladybug's red polka-dotted sash. Running his hands along the smooth silky fabric, his brain worked fast. If Marinette and Ladybug were the same person, she probably would never admit upfront that he had found her out if he confronted her directly. Stubbornness was, of course, her best and worst attribute. It was always infuriatingly irresistible. No, he would have to go about it discreetly and cause her to admit something without realizing she was revealing herself.

As he stared back down at the sash, an idea lit up in his mind. He was going to have so much fun at school this week.

It was Tuesday morning and Tikki was poking her incessantly as Marinette held the pillow over her head even more tightly. She still had not quite recovered from the late night Sunday talk—she refused to call it a rendezvous—with Chat Noir, or from the collision with Adrien the day before. She was torn between abject horror at her klutzy behavior and sheepish glee from the fact that he had touched her shoulder. It was strange, she thought, how despite having kissed him at the Masquerade, a simple touch from him when she was Marinette instead of Ladybug still sent the butterflies swarming aggressively in her stomach.

"Just five more minutes, Tikki," she moaned under her pillow. To her dismay, her kwami did not oblige.

"Marinette, do you realize you've got about fifteen minutes until class starts?" Tikki said, holding up the alarm clock to her face. Marinette peeked out of the pillow to glance at it.

"Okay, okay," she said miserably, throwing the blankets off of her and grabbing her clothes. Good thing it only took about five minutes to run to school.

"Which are you preoccupied with this morning: your sudden jealousy about Chat Noir or your embarrassment from knocking Adrien over yesterday?" the kwami prompted.

"Tikki, we must never speak about that rendez—I mean that talk with Chat Noir ever again," she scolded, pulling her jeans over her legs. Then she paused. "On second thought, we must never talk about either of those moments ever again."

To her annoyance, Tikki merely giggled. "Oh, Marinette. What a week you're having. First, your Masquerade night with Adrien, then your rendezvous with Chat—"

"Not a rendezvous!" she corrected, blushing furiously, but Tikki kept on giggling.

"I think someone is a little confused," the kwami teased.

"I've always liked Adrien and only Adrien—no confusion there!" she insisted while tying her hair into their usual pigtails. "The thing with Chat wasn't really anything."

"Whatever you say," Tikki winked.

It was true that she did feel perhaps the slightest twinge of jealousy the other night, Marinette thought as she ran out the front door towards Dupont. It wasn't that she had feelings for Chat Noir—something she had told herself for the umpteenth time since their meeting—, she was just surprised and maybe slightly annoyed that Chat eventually gave his attention elsewhere other than her. Despite the fact that his flirtatious behavior was often over the top, she had to admit it had always made her feel…special. But that didn't mean it was jealousy, right? Any girl would be slightly annoyed if a guy liked her but ended up finding or flirting with someone else, wouldn't they? Just her? No way.

And besides, she thought as Adrien climbed out of his limo and waved at her, even if she was slightly jealous about someone else, there was nothing in the world that could compete with the way Adrien made her feel with the most basic and mundane interactions and—oh God, he was approaching her!

"Morning, Marinette," he greeted benignly. Yup, there was definitely nothing that could compare.

"M-morning," she squeaked shyly. He was talking to her—as Marinette!—and she still had no clue how to maintain her cool.

"I have a favor to ask you, do you mind staying behind a little after school today?" he asked. Then he did something that made her heart stop. Leaning in closer, he whispered, "It's a super secret mission."

She could still feel his breath on her ear before she responded, "Y-yes, of course, Adrien. A-Anything for you!"

"Thanks, Marinette," he smiled, withdrawing back and patting her shoulder. "Talk to you later, then!"

She watched him disappear into the school with Nino, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. He had touched her shoulder again.

"Wow, what was that?" said a voice in Marinette's ear, causing her to jump up and yelp.

"What?!" she exclaimed, whipping around. It was Alya with the familiar smirk and knowing expression on her face. Marinette did not like her scrutinizing look one bit. "Oh, you scared me, Alya."

"Something that's clearly not very difficult to do," her best friend laughed. Marinette avoided her gaze and tried to will herself to stop blushing.

"Adrien just said he needed help with one of his homework assignments—that's all," she said. She wasn't sure why she was keeping the details of the interaction from Alya. Perhaps when Adrien said it was a "super secret mission," it made Marinette feel like he had something to share that should be kept between just them. His clandestine manner triggered an excitement of the hidden kind within her and it was of utmost important to treasure it privately for herself instead of exposing it to anyone else.

"Ah, well finally you have the opportunity to spend time with him, then!" Alya said triumphantly, throwing an arm around Marinette's shoulders.

"Yeah, I guess so," Marinette laughed convincingly. "Come on, class is about to begin."

But all her classes that day seemed to drag on forever. With the promise of a "super secret" meeting with the love of her life, Marinette had to admit it was really difficult to focus on anything else. She failed to keep her gaze on anything else but the back of his head, and scenarios after scenario were playing out their possibilities in her head. Was he going to invite her to the movies? Was it possible he liked her and was going to tell her so? Or was it really just about homework?

Just as she thought she couldn't stand tearing her hair over all the potential possibilities of this "super secret mission" anymore, the final bell rang and they were free at last. She looked over to Alya at once; she merely gave her a wink and a thumbs-up before collecting her bag and leaving class without her. Her heart clenched in nervous anticipation—Marinette really had to face Adrien alone now.

Feeling shy again, she glanced determinedly down at her hands anxiously wringing and unwringing themselves around her backpack handle beneath the desk as Adrien turned around to speak to her.

"Hey," he said simply, leaning his elbows on her desk. She knew her face was probably as red as tomato and her blue eyes slowly trailed upwards to meet his green ones.

"Hey," she mumbled quietly. "So umm…W-what can I help you with?"

"I was hoping we could maybe talk about it in the park," he suggested, pointing his thumb at the classroom's exit. "Want to take a walk?"

She stared at him unable to believe her ears. Adrien wanted to take a stroll in the park? With her? The butterflies were starting up again, taking flight and flapping around.

"O-okay," she smiled.

They walked side by side in silence—her, nervous; him, completely at ease. She watched him walking with his arms swinging by his side and his head held high, the image of confidence that she wished she had as Marinette. She needed Ladybug, but she couldn't do it now. You are Ladybug with or without the mask, Tikki's voice echoed in her ears, yet she still had a hard time trusting in herself.

"How was your weekend?" he asked cheerfully. "Since we didn't get a chance to talk much at all yesterday."

"Oh! It was—it was…" For a moment, Marinette had to think about it—the fact that he was asking her at all made her spirits soar. But then, as the events of the weekend slowly came back to her, she thought of Chat Noir again and her stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch.

"…great," she finished lamely. The butterflies that had ignited inside her from the moment Adrien approached her seemed to have scattered, leaving nothing but confusion in their wake. What was it with these weird feelings about Chat Noir anyway? She was with Adrien right now, so she needed to focus!

"Just 'great'?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Er—yes! Nothing in particular to report about," she insisted, mentally waving aside all intruding thoughts of Chat. "Uh, what about yours?"

"It was grand," he answered, beaming at her and causing her heart to flutter. She loved seeing him so joyful like this and could only hope she had something to do with it.

When they reached the park, he gestured for her to sit down on a bench before plopping down next to her. As she sat, she felt the nervous energy begin to fade away like they did when they started dancing at the Masquerade. It was comforting to know that no matter how anxious she felt whenever she started a new interaction with him, it had always transitioned smoothly into familiar normality, as though they had been close friends all along. Perhaps the more opportunity she had to experience this, she thought hopefully, the easier it would be to spend more time together as well.

"So, um, what did you want to talk about?" she asked, voice much steadier than previously. She was so proud of herself and knew Alya would be too if she could see her now.

"Right,—so you're into fashion and art, correct?"

"Correct," she nodded. "You need help with something regarding that?"

"Yes, but—" he broke off, sighing. "I wouldn't trust just anybody with this, which is why I said it was a 'super secret mission.' So I need to know first that I can count on you."

At these words, Marinette tensed up. Proving to Adrien that she was someone he could one hundred percent rely on was one of the most important missions she could have at the moment and she could not afford to mess it up. She would do everything in her power to ensure his trust in her.

"Yes, definitely," she affirmed, straightening her back and looking serious. "You can count on me."

"Thanks, Marinette," he said, flashing all of his perfect white teeth at her, causing her to fidget with her backpack again. He reached into his own book bag and rummaged around. She eyed his every movement, hardly noticing that she was holding her breath as she wondered what he was going to show her.

She craned her neck to get a closer look as he withdrew a hand out of the bag. She saw a flash of familiar red and blinked. It couldn't be, she thought, rubbing her eyes. But as he held out the object he had retrieved before her, there was no mistaking it now. Staring down at it, she saw her very own silky red sash complete with every black polka dot she had deliberately sown and felt the bottom drop out under her stomach. She completely forgot she had dropped it at the end of the Masquerade, and what was worse, she had just promised Adrien he could trust her, but now she knew she had to lie to him, no matter what it was he asked of her.

"What's that exactly?" she asked, plastering the most normal and interested smile she could muster.

"But Marinette," he said, gazing at her with widened eyes, "I think you already know."

Her breath hitched. No, no, no, there was no way Adrien could have found out. Play it cool, she told herself.

"Um, sorry? I don't know what you mean," she said.

"Do you happen to have anything to do with this?" he asked, holding the sash higher under her nose.

"W-what makes you think that?" she countered, sweat beads beginning to form at the back of her neck. Keep calm…

"Well," he said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, "please don't be angry with me—"

Oh, God. What did he do? Does he know? Her heart drummed louder and louder in her chest and she stared in horror at the sash, unable to meet his eyes.

"—but I saw a picture of this sash in your sketchbook the other day," he finished, then added, "er—by accident, that is."

Oh, no, she thought, he has proof! Her body felt numb from the shock and she had no idea what to do. If he had indeed seen the picture, then he had a very, very huge clue.

But wait, she corrected herself as her heart rate began to level, a clue is not concrete proof! and, thinking fast, she knew she could tweak it to remedy the situation. She had to.

"Ah, well," she invented wildly, "Ladybug tends to like keeping as much of herself as possible secret—"

"Yes, I think I'm rather familiar with that," he said, staring down at her. She blinked, feeling the heat creep back into her cheeks.

No, stop. This is crucial; you need to save your own skin! she told herself. Forcing herself to think straight, she continued.

"Exactly," she said, pointing her fingers at him in agreement. "So because of that, she didn't want it to be very widely known that it was actually I who helped her design the dress she wore that night."

"Really?" Adrien asked. She felt like melting under his gaze, which was currently full of interest in her and her alone. "Er—and how did that come about?"

"Oh! Well," she tittered uneasily, "because I designed Jagged Stone's album cover that one time, and that one bowler hat for your Father, she ended up finding me and asking if I could help her out on the down-low so she didn't have to come into close proximity with a more publicly licensed designer. And besides, she wanted a very unique look, which is better found in a more small and private business, you know?"

"I see…" he trailed off. Marinette had the impression he was thinking hard about something.

"Umm—so, hey. Did you…still need my help then?" she prompted again, trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters and hoping he'd buy the story. "Because if not—"

"Actually," he interrupted, shoving the sash into her hands. The contact of his hand on hers made her blush yet again. "If you designed this for Ladybug, then perhaps you know a way to find her and return it to her. After all, it does belong to her and part of me feels guilty for keeping it without knowing whether she actually wants it back or not."

"Oh, um, I'm sure if she hasn't swung by to visit you and demand it back yet, she has no problem with you keeping it," she said, half-babbling and half-giggling as she tried to push the folded fabric back into his hands.

"No, I insist," he said, closing her hand around the sash with his own. She looked up at him in surprise. "It feels wrong to keep it when I don't know how she really feels about me."

If you're wondering how Ladybug feels, I…really, really like you, she thought in her head. The initial excitement she had felt about going on a "super secret mission" walk with Adrien had now trickled away, only to be replaced by crippling doubt and sinking defeat. Her suspicions were right: Adrien really did like Ladybug more than he could ever like her. That was why he had reduced her to being a messenger girl, a simple mediator between him and the one he actually had feelings for.

And maybe, just maybe, even Chat Noir—she berated herself for thinking of the stupid kitty at all—would also like her only as Ladybug and not as herself. Maybe that was why she was so upset over the idea that Chat had found someone else he deemed "special."

"Uh—Marinette?"

His voice cut across her brooding contemplation and her eyes met his.

"Of course, Adrien," she said, pocketing the sash in her own backpack, the falsely cheery voice a stark contrast from how she really felt inside. "Anything for you—like I promised, right?"

For the rest of the week, Adrien wasn't sure if he regretted his decision to give the sash back to Marinette or not. Whenever they saw each other, he would try to wave hello and she would look away. He wondered what was going through her mind. Did it make her angry that he gave it back to her? He hadn't lied; he did feel strange keeping it when he wasn't sure how Ladybug really felt about him. He wasn't even sure why he acted the way he did, but because he had caught her in the lie, he had felt inspired in that moment to let her take the sash. Now he wasn't so sure if it was the right thing to do.

On the flip side, he knew for a fact that Marinette was Ladybug. Her lie about being commissioned to design the dress was clever—if only she knew that Ladybug had already told him as Chat Noir that she had designed it. The poor girl had dug herself into a hole without realizing it, which made him feel guiltier. He never intended to be manipulative. He hadn't had a clue how the conversation would go down before he started it. He just sort of…went with the flow.

Adrien wondered what he could do to get to know Marinette better and simply just spend more time with her. He'd always admired her. She had designed the winning hat for his father's contest and the cover for Jagged Stone, and if he were honest with himself, he had always found her really cute.

Hmm, perhaps a certain cat would have to visit her tonight and have a conversation with her. Getting to know her from different angles was becoming a thing, he realized. Not that he minded.

"Plagg, let's go," he told his kwami. Plagg looked up from his slice of cheese and stared at him in bewilderment.

"Go where?" he asked.

"Ladybug—I mean, Marinette's place," he said.

"What? That's a bit rash, don't you think?" the kwami asked. "It's a Friday night, let's relax and watch TV."

"You're one to tell me about rash. You just want to finish eating your cheese," Adrien accused.

"Excuzes-moi?" Plagg protested, "I merely—"

He broke off with a gasp, his eyes staring at a point somewhere behind Adrien.

"You won't need to go after all," he said and, taking the rest of his cheese, flew away to hide in one of the drawers. Following his gaze, Adrien turned around to face his window and his eyes widened in surprise.

Ladybug was right outside, hanging upside down on her yo-yo and tapping on the glass. In a confused daze, Adrien walked up and pushed the windowpane open. Leaning his elbows on the sill, he grinned up at her.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," he said. It was all he could do to stop himself from full-on smirking.

"Sorry to drop in like this, Adrien," she said, turning with her body still suspended in the air so that her neck extended and she faced him right side up. "I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time?"

"There's never a bad time if it's you," he said, resting his chin on his arms. What was he saying? He needed to be more serious and keep the Chat flirtation to a minimum but the sight of Ladybug at his window and the knowledge of her identity just gave him a rush he couldn't quite explain. "Umm—I mean, what's up?"

"I—uh—talked to your classmate Marinette this week," she said. He reached out a hand to her to pull her inside but she hesitated. "Err—" she broke off, sounding uncertain, "I don't think I should come in. I meant for this to be a short visit."

"Oh," he said, feeling disappointed. "Busy with superhero stuff?"

"No—I mean—," she stammered, then sighed. "Er—yes. Something like that."

"I understand," he said, dropping his hand back down at his side and feeling his spirits sink. Why didn't she want to stay? Perhaps he had read all the signs wrong and she really didn't like him at all.

He felt her hand on his cheek and looked up at once. She was looking at him with furrowed brows, the same concerned expression she gave him at the end of the Masquerade night, throwing his stomach into a fresh round of somersaults.

"Hey, don't look so sad," she said. "It doesn't suit you."

For her, he smiled.

"Okay, not sad anymore," he said brightly. "So, you were saying you talked to Marinette?"

She withdrew her hand and her eyes darted around, looking anywhere but at him.

"Err—yes. About that," she said. Untying something around her waist, she brought it out under the light of Adrien's room.

Her sash. Adrien looked up at her with a brow raised. What was she presenting this to him for?

"She told me you felt bad keeping it but…" she trailed off, biting her lip. "I already knew I had dropped it and I…wouldn't have minded if you kept it. So, if you please, you can take it back."

He stared down at the sash, casting about for something to say. The fabric seemed to be changing hands a lot, and if Ladybug made the extra trip just to give it back to him, did it mean what he thought it meant? He was afraid to hope.

"Um, thanks," he said, still keeping his hands at his side. "Why are you giving it to me?"

"Token from the Masquerade," she shrugged, still not looking at him. "Something to remember me by."

"I remember you just fine," he said. Then his smile faded and he inwardly cringed at his words. Why couldn't he keep a hold on his cat tongue? "Uh—that is to say…"

His mind went numb. Her stark azure eyes had finally glanced up to meet his and any words that he meant to say to cover up his initial stupid phrases slipped from his brain. All he could focus on was how he was close enough to count a few freckles peeking out from under her mask. Of course, Marinette had freckles, too. How had he never noticed?

Reaching out a hand to take the sash, he let it rest upon her outstretched one. She didn't move, but remained hanging onto her yo-yo wire. He wished he could take her into his arms right then and there. Time seemed to have frozen.

Tell her! his head shouted as he continued to gaze into those beautiful eyes, eyes that were wide with anticipation. Wasn't this something he had been dreaming of? An opportune moment to finally tell her how he felt?

"Ladybug, I—"

His voice cracked. The confession hitched in his throat. He couldn't tell her—not like this. Now that he knew Ladybug was Marinette, if he was going to tell her he loved her, he had to do it the right way, masks off and hearts open.

And besides, Ladybug—or Marinette—didn't seem like herself. Something was off about the way her eyes drooped and the way she kept biting her lip. He longed to know what was going on in her mind.

"You told me just now not to be sad," he said, finally taking the sash out of her hands, "but you don't look so happy yourself. What's wrong?"

"I—I'm not—I don't—" she said. "I don't know what you mean."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "You can tell me."

His eyes bored into hers but she blinked and looked away. Still biting her lip, she rotated again so that she was facing him upside down. She wasn't going to tell him.

"I should probably go," she said at last. He was disappointed to say the least, but if she didn't want to stay and talk about it, then he had to respect her wishes.

"Okay," he said dejectedly. "Can I…at least thank you for this?"

He held up the sash. Her eyes alighted upon it and then flickered back to his face as she thought about his question.

"You already did," she said. He shook his head.

"Please," he said, smiling at her. She blinked at him.

"Okay," she whispered.

Leaning closer, he cupped her cheeks despite her being upside down. She licked her lips nervously but didn't move away. Taking this as a sign, he closed the remaining space between them and grazed her lips with his own.

This was Marinette he was kissing, he thought as he closed his eyes and took in every curve of her lips. He pictured her usual cute bashful grin while she nibbled on his upper lip and he felt the heat rising at the back of his neck. Knowing Ladybug was Marinette only fueled his excitement to greater heights, fanning the flames in his heart and causing it to race faster and faster as he felt her mouth move slowly and gently against his.

But before he could fully appreciate the kiss, it was over. She pulled away, catching her breath, looking anywhere but at him. The sudden absence of her soft lips left him wanting more—it was this more than anything that made him say it. Before he could stop himself, the words came tumbling out of his mouth.

"I…really like you," he breathed huskily, his hand still cradling her face.

That got her attention quick. Her eyes snapped to his at once, wide-eyed and scared, and Adrien realized his huge mistake a second too late. He mentally smacked his own head. Why couldn't he keep his damn mouth shut this entire night?

"W-what?!"

"I—I mean—that is to say—"

"Adrien, think about what you're saying," she said, her voice suddenly sharp and tense. "You don't even know me."

Oh. Is that what she was so upset about?

"But—" But he did! Yet there was no way he could explain it to her right now without her getting angrier than she already was. What could he possibly say?

"I'm sorry, I've overstayed my visit," she said, fingers burrowing into her forehead in frustration. "I shouldn't have come in the first place."

And without another word, she pulled on her yo-yo and zipped up above his window.

"Mar—Ladybug—wait!" But it was too late. She had already gone off into the night.

Throwing himself onto his bed, he groaned loudly into his pillow.

"Ugh, Plagg," he said, turning to face the ceiling and covering his face with his hands as his kwami came out of hiding. "I've made a real mess of things."