Chapter Ten: Cookies

Due to his strict diet, Adrien can't eat the cookies Marinette made. Chat Noir scoffs nearly a whole batch when Ladybug brings them to patrol. So how does Adrien know exactly what those cookies taste like?

"These are so good!" Alya mumbled, licking a stray crumb from her fingertip. With her phone-wielding hand now clean, she took a photo for Instagram-able posterity, then reached for the plate again. She wasn't quite quick enough: Nino got in first, nudging her hand out of the way to snatch the top-most cookie.

"What?" he asked, smiling smugly in the face of her death-glare. "You said it was good, I just wanted to see if you were right." He took a large bite, eyes widening. "It is good!" he agreed, already eying the rest of the plate hopefully.

Still glowering at him, Alya grabbed another cookie, pointedly moved out of his reach, and bit into it. Her stormy expression cleared in an instant.

"What kind is it?" Nino asked. He held up the remains of his lurid-green cookie, examining it reverently.

Marinette giggled. These cookies had already been a hit with the few lucky customers who had taste-tested them; but it was extra special to know that her friends liked them as well! "Those are pistachio-nougat, and these-" she gestured at the bright-red cookie in Alya's hand "-are red velvet."

Alya nibbled at it, savouring the taste. "Kind of reminds me of a buche de Noel!"

Marinette nodded happily. "That's what I was aiming for."

Nino's mouth dropped open; luckily for them, it was now empty. "Whoa, whoa, whoa - you made these?!"

"Yes," Marinette answered, flushing with pleasure at the obvious awe in his voice. "Christmas is coming up, and my parents want to sell some holiday-themed cookies, so they let me experiment with some new flavourings. The red-velvet ones have cinnamon added to the dough, and the pistachio-nougat ones have a bit of glace fruit in them. Our customers who tried them seemed to like them so far-"

"You've been giving out samples?!" Nino was now looking at her as if she were a domestic goddess. "Dude, I am so coming by your place every day between now and Christmas!"

"Sponger!" Alya muttered. She slapped his arm, then used the same hand to pick up another cookie.

Nino also helped himself, as if to spite her (not that he needed the extra reason). "Like being best buds with a baker's daughter never brought you any perks."

"She was my friend first! Go ask Adrien to give you a celery stick, or a kale-cupcake, or whatever the heck it is that professional models eat."

"Hey, don't diss my man- Adrien, over here!" Seeing the subject of their conversation crossing the quadrangle near them, Nino called him over. "You've got to try this!"

As Adrien approached, Marinette fiddled nervously with the edge of a napkin. Alya raised a significant eyebrow at her; though she didn't speak aloud, her look said: girl, if the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, you got this!

That was exactly what Marinette hoped. She might be a complete spaz around her crush, but there were a few things she could do right, and baking was one of them. She had complete faith in her family's trusted recipes; and, based on her friends' reactions, she also had confidence in her own creations. If Adrien was left unimpressed by these cookies, she would be very surprised indeed. In fact, if he were to spontaneously drop on one knee and declare his undying love for her, it would be a not-so-unexpected bonus!

Adrien came over, smiling questioningly at Nino's summons. When his eyes fell on the plate, he actually flinched, much to everyone's surprise. He took a step closer, half reached out, hesitated a moment, then reluctantly let his hand drop. "I'm sorry," he said, "I couldn't possibly-"

"No, g-go ahead," Marinette stammered, images of becoming the future Mrs Agreste already starting to waver like a mirage. "T-there's plenty, so..."

At her words, Alya smacked away Nino's hand, which had been hovering subtly near the plate.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, but I shouldn't. I'm on a strict eating regime - modelling requirements, y'know - so much as I'd love to, I really can't..."

Nino looked aghast. Sure, he had always been turned down when he offered Adrien sweets or snacks during school breaks, but he had always assumed his friend was just being unnecessarily polite. "But - but - but - cookies!" he tried to argue.

Adrien shook his head. "No way. If I'm carrying so much as an extra half-pound at my next check-up with my nutritionist, I'll be given portions that would make what rabbits eat look like a feast."

Nino drew in an uneasy breath. "Sucks to be you, dude," he said, picking up a cookie and almost inhaling it, as if in consolation.

Adrien chuckled wryly. "No kidding," he said, watching with thinly-veiled envy as a morsel of chocolate at the side of Nino's mouth danced up and down with every chew. He looked instead at Marinette, whose expression was somewhere between shell-shocked and horrified. He cringed, painfully aware of how just different his life was from that of the average kid. As the daughter of a baker, she probably wasn't used to people turn down free baked goods! It wasn't like he wanted to disappoint her - he was a heartbeat away from breaking down his resolve and just grabbing at the plate - but he knew by now that these were just the consequences of being who he was. Not to mention the comeuppance he would face was far worse than the pleasure that alluded him - even if the stack of cookies in front of him was like his vision of heaven.

"Sorry," he said again, smiling apologetically. "I really wish I could try one, they look amazing! If I ever have a long gap between photo shoots, I'll come to your bakery and buy some, for sure."

Alya and Nino exchanged glances, both aware of what an empty promise this was - Adrien never had long breaks between shoots! Marinette, however, either taking the sentiment at face-value, or else beguiled by the brilliance of those flawlessly-white model teeth, dimpled back at him.

"O-of course," she said, glancing shyly at him from beneath lowered lashes. "Whenever you want, j-just let me know, I'll brang you a bitch."

She only knew she had said something wrong when she saw all three of them gaping at her. The sentence she had just uttered replayed itself in her head; she squeaked in dismay when she realized what she had actually said. "Batch! I mean bring! You a batch! Batch, not- oh, god!" She ended with a drawn-out whimper, burying her face in her napkin.

Nino spluttered, spraying crumbs all down the front of his shirt. Alya dropped her head into her hand, hiding her smile out of loyalty. Adrien chuckled before manners obliged him to stifle his laughter, just like he had done back when his umbrella had closed on her head. Marinette raised that head just enough to give him a terrified glance, then swiftly hid it again. The glow of her mortified blush was practically visible through her napkin.

Nino had got it all wrong. Though parts of being Adrien certainly did suck, there were times when it sucked far more to be her.

"These are so good!" Chat Noir said, giving a happy hum which, characteristically, sounded like a purr.

Ladybug smiled at him, like an indulgent parent with an idiot child. She watched him screw his eyes closed as he chewed ecstatically, completely unaware that he had several green crumbs stuck to his cheek. After her disappointment with Adrien earlier that day, it was nice to see someone enjoying her handiwork!

"What flavour is this?" he asked, having already finished his third - or was it fourth? - green cookie, and picked up another. He held it between two fingers by its edges, careful not to sink his claws into the thick icing.

After Adrien had declined the cookies, Alya and Nino had reluctantly stopped eating out of consideration for him, leaving plenty of leftovers for her to take back home. Deciding to put them to good use (besides feeding several of them to a delighted Tikki), she had re-purposed them for patrol that night, though not before giving them a little extra something. She had used a piping bag to draw chocolate-ganache spots on the red velvet cookies; while the pistachio ones were now covered with black fondant, from which she had cut out a pad and four toe-prints, letting the green of the biscuit underneath show through.

"That one's Chat Noir-flavoured, obviously," she said, smirking as he stopped, eyes wide, halfway through a gigantic bite.

"You're making my fellow cats into cookies?!" he gasped in mock-outrage, playing along with her. "All this time, I never knew I was working alongside Mrs Lovett - and my name isn't even Sweeney Todd!"

"You're definitely not a barber," Ladybug teased, with a glance at his windblown blond locks, "demon or otherwise."

Chat Noir was warily eying a blob of red that was embedded in his cookie. "Mr Snuffles, is that you?" he asked it.

Ladybug laughed. "That's a glace cherry, Chaton. They're actually pistachio-nougat flavour."

"Whatever they are, they taste incredible." He beamed joyously at her. "Sweets from the sweet!"

She swatted away the sugary compliment. "I think that's supposed to be 'for' the sweet."

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Aw, you think I'm sweet? How sweet of you!"

Ladybug rolled her eyes. "You can stop that tout sweet," she told him, making him chuckle. He wasn't exactly wrong; at times he could be sickeningly sweet, to the point of being downright gooey.

"How about these?" he asked, taking a red cookie. "Don't tell me they're baked full of squished ladybugs?"

"Ew!" She shuddered at the thought. "No, the only squishy thing in them is melted chocolate, those ones are red velvet."

As he bit into it, she swore she saw his pupils dilate - which, as they were already narrow and cat-like, was quite a feat. He chewed in silence for so long, she actually wondered if he hated it and didn't want to tell her. When he finally swallowed, he stared at her in stunned silence; though the quiet was nice, it was seriously beginning to worry her.

"Marry me," he finally said, giving her a rapturous look.

She laughed it off. "If you like them that much, you should marry the baker - and I don't think his wife would approve!"

"I'd marry you if it meant having more cookies like this," he said, in what appeared to be a very earnest tone.

"Sponger!" she scoffed. "You can buy them yourself next time!"

"Or I could pay for them if you bring them," he suggested eagerly. "Aren't you going to have some? This kitty is willing to share!"

With a put-upon look, she helped herself to a red cookie, admiring how well the spots matched her suit. It was pretty good, if she did say so herself!

Chat Noir seemed to be determined to show how much he liked them by polishing off the rest of the batch himself. "Seriously," he said with his mouth half-full, "these must be from the best bakery in all of Paris!"

She had to admit she was touched by his words. She was very proud of her family's business, not to mention her own kitchen prowess - she was such a mess at everything else, she had to take pride in the few things she excelled at!

"Good, aren't they?" she agreed, trying not to sound too smug. "I often go there to get cookies for my kwami." She was seriously glad then that she hadn't told him which bakery they were from - the last thing she needed was a stray cat sniffing round her home, begging for scraps!

At her words, he pulled a face. "Lucky you. My kwami exclusively eats stinky camembert."

She wrinkled her nose at the thought of having to constantly fill her purse with such pungent-smelling kwami-snacks. "That's too bad! Although cheese can be good sometimes. I'm pretty sure that bakery also makes some tasty cheese danishes. If we do this again - and you're willing to buy - perhaps I could bring..."

Chat Noir grinned at her over what was left of his (seventh? eighth?) cookie. "If you do, my kwami will want to marry you!"

She gave an un-ladylike snort. "His chances are about as good as yours."

He looked thoughtful, as if he were calculating his odds. "Ludicrously high, then?" She threw a napkin at him; he laughed as it bounced off the shoulder of his suit.

In the end, though he shared some of the cookies with her, he still ended up eating most of them. She didn't really mind; it was gratifying to see him enjoy them so much. And he definitely enjoyed them. She was pretty sure that if she had let him, he would have lapped up every single crumb left in the box, just like the greedy kitty he was.

Sometimes, it definitely sucked to be her. Besides undoubtedly sucking to be Marinette, it sometimes even sucked to be Ladybug.

It certainly sucked to have to do school work on a Saturday, all because she had missed class to chase down an akuma earlier in the week. It sucked even more that she was stuck in the school library, since the course reader she needed wasn't loaned out; and, adding insult to injury, she seemed to be the only one stuck at school on a perfectly good weekend. The campus was usually left open to students on Saturdays, but there weren't any club or sport activities scheduled for today, and no other remorseful truants were in sight. Even the librarian was absent, attending to the yearly stock-take out in a backroom.

It was so deserted, Marinette considered letting Tikki out of her purse. It wasn't like anyone was around to see her, and she could use the kwami's help to better understand the Hundred Years' W-

It was lucky she hadn't gone through with her impulse; she heard the door to the library swing open, and a pair of footsteps approach. Making sure Tikki was still tucked safely out of sight, she looked up absently to see who it was - then hastily dove behind the history book she had propped open on the desk in front of her.

Adrien had just come in, and was heading towards the bookshelves across from her.

She instantly scolded herself for falling back on cowardly habits - this was the perfect opportunity to talk to him, without Chloe around to interrupt! Although, after what she had said the last time she had attempted to speak to him, she wasn't sure if she could face him ever again. Urging herself to have a bit of backbone - after all, it wasn't like she had never embarrassed herself in front of him before - she half-rose from her seat, frenetically fumbling for some topic of conversation. He was heading for the history section, so maybe he needed to catch up too? He often skipped class for photo shoots, and it wasn't like she knew whether he had been there or not, having skipped out herself (immediate task: come up with a plausible explanation for not having been there, in case he asked). Maybe they could read up on it together - the perfect excuse to spend time with him!

He didn't seem to have noticed her yet. Should she let him know she was here, or wait until she got a bit closer to him? Even without the librarian nearby, calling out to him across the library probably wasn't the best idea, she would probably just-

To her surprise, she saw him stumble. Flawless, fleet-footed Adrien, acting like someone as graceless as herself? He was the best fencer in the school, and his basketball footwork was practically legendary, so why did he...

Another glance told her that something was terribly wrong. He swayed as he walked, fumbling for each step. His hand went out towards the nearest shelf. For one horrible moment, she feared that he would grab it and pull it down on top of himself; however, he missed it, clutching at empty air. He teetered a few more steps, tilted precariously, leaned way too far towards the floor...

She was moving before she even realized what she did.

She didn't know how she managed it. Tikki told her afterwards that she had sprinted across the room, vaulted over a desk, veered around a set of shelves, and thrown herself the last couple of feet like a baseballer sliding into home. As Ladybug, it would have been as easy as blinking; as Marinette, she had no clue how she could have possibly pulled off such a feat. All she knew was that moments later, she found herself, panting and shaken, lying on the ground with a likewise sprawled-out Adrien collapsed half on top of her. Instead of falling and cracking his skull on the hard wooden floor, his golden head lay cushioned in her lap.

After a split-second of freaking out over the fact that she was making physical contact with him, she immediately switched to panicking over the fact that he was lying far too still and showing absolutely no signs of life.

"Ohmigodtikkiwhatdoido?!" she whisper-shrieked; why, she didn't know. Was she worried he would notice her kwami, or did she not want to wake him? Both were ridiculous notions, because a) he was too unconscious to notice her kwami, and b) she didn't care if he noticed her kwami, so long as he wasn't unconscious!

Instantly grasping that this was an emergency for which any attempts at secrecy must be laid aside, Tikki phased out of her purse, hovering in the air beside her. "It's alright, Marinette! You can take care of him, just keep calm and do as I say." Seeing the girl nod mutely, holding back full-blown symptoms of a freak-out with an effort, she hummed approvingly. "First, make sure he's breathing."

Marinette sort of knew how to revive a person. Though she'd never had to before, her parents had made sure she was trained in what to do, in case something should ever happen at the bakery; it was just part and parcel with working in hospitality. Though the prospect of giving Adrien mouth-to-mouth had her on the verge of shambles, she managed to keep her head.

She held her clammy palm in front of Adrien's lips; when she felt a faint gust tickle her skin, she drew a sigh of relief herself. "H-He's breathing."

"Good. Next," Tikki instructed, "check his pulse."

She took hold of his wrist, and very nearly panicked when she couldn't feel anything. Had she missed the right spot? Her fingers roamed haphazardly up and down his arm, searching for an encouraging flutter. No, she was probably just doing it wrong, it wasn't that- he couldn't be-

Did the front of his shirt just... twitch?

Even if his pulse was erratic, there was no way she should have been able to actually see his heart beating out of his chest - though hers certainly felt like it did! Tikki seemed to notice the same odd movement; she hovered closer to Adrien's collar, hesitated, then looked at Marinette, prompting her to go ahead. She dutifully pressed her hand to the front of Adrien's shirt, finally relaxing an iota when she felt his heart pounding away steadily beneath it.

"He should be alright then," Tikki said, eying the prone boy thoughtfully.

"What's wrong with him, Tikki?" Marinette ask, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

Despite her calm exterior, the kwami looked slightly worried. "I don't know, I honestly can't tell just from looking at him. Whatever it is, we should probably get him some help, especially if he isn't-"

Help. Marinette suddenly realized just how alone they were. The librarian was out the back, out of hearing distance; the school had a first-aid office, but it was at the opposite end of the building. She should go and get someone, but she didn't want to leave him - what if he went into a seizure while she was gone, or tried to get up and pulled the shelf down on himself after all?

She was Ladybug, wasn't she? She was supposed to be the help that others called on when they were in need, and right now, Adrien was the one who needed-

Unbeknownst to her, her eyes had taken on a steely glint which, if Chat Noir had been there, he would have immediately recognized.

Gritting her teeth in determination, she took a firm hold of the fabric at the shoulder of Adrien shirt with one hand, latched onto the waistband of his jeans with the other, and heaved.

Miss Louise Abelard was the medical officer at Francoise-Dupont College.

She liked the students, enjoyed her job, and had had blessedly few incidents during her tenure. The usual batch of malingers who got headaches whenever they had a quiz next period; the odd twisted ankle in gym class or upset stomach brought on by a questionable home-packed lunch; one memorable case where a boy had tried to fend off an akuma with a lacrosse stick and managed to swipe himself across the back of the head with it, necessitating a few stitches.

(Seriously, Kim Le Chien was a menace, directly or indirectly causing almost a third of the injuries in which he himself was not also the patient; only Alix Kubdel came close to rivalling him!)

It wasn't usual for Louise to be at work on a Saturday. She had meant to take an inventory of her medicine cabinet on Friday afternoon, but had been called to substitute a gym teacher instead. She was meticulous about her job, and so she had dropped in on the weekend, remembering that her last box of paracetamol was close to expiration. Call her paranoid, but the one time she didn't bother would be the one time she needed-

A sudden thud against the door made her drop a vial of pills all over the floor. Swearing softly to herself, she crossed to the door as another insistent fist pounded against it.

Not a fist. A foot.

Marinette stopped kicking the door as soon as she saw the knob turn. She had to kick, because she had both hands full: a fistful of shirt-sleeve was clutched in one, the crease of denim at back of Adrien's knee in the other.

When Miss Abelard opened the door, she was immediately confronted by the sight of a diminutive girl staggering under the weight of the boy draped full-length across her shoulders. "Help me!" she gasped, eyes wide and frightened, as soon as she caught sight of the teacher.

Miss Abelard was no less startled, but at least better-qualified to handle situations like these - though she had never handled a situation quite like this before. She instantly hurried forward, easing the unconscious boy off the girl's back and holding him up on one side, while the girl took the other.

Louise marvelled at how she had managed to carry him. Adrien Agreste - she had been informed of his presence as soon as he started attending the college, knew his medical file off by heart, recognized him instantly from the multiple check-ins with her that his father had insisted upon - might be slight of frame, but he was quite tall for his age, and weighted as much as one would expect of a healthy teenage boy; especially one who was currently a dead-weight. She was all the more amazed when she saw that his rescuer was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, of all people! The poor girl was renowned for her clumsiness, often ending up in her clinic sporting bumps and scrapes, most of which were self-inflicted. Just a day previously, Marinette had been in the gym class she had been called to supervise, and had seemingly been hit in the face with a volley-ball more times than she had managed to spike it. Yet now, it was the teacher who felt like a weakling, as she struggled to take even a few steps with Adrien's arm braced round her shoulder. She watched in bewilderment as this skinny slip of a girl steadily eased her burden towards the clinic's narrow bed, tottering slightly but otherwise firm on her feet.

"What happened?" Miss Abelard asked, once they had managed to lay the boy down gently on the mattress.

Marinette turned anxious blue eyes upon her. "I-I don't know. He was in the library, and all of a sudden he j-just... keeled over, and I..."

She carried him all the way from the library?! "Did he hit his head when he fell?" Miss Abelard asked, saving suspensions of disbelief for later.

"No, I d-don't think so. I was near him when it happened... I managed to sort of, uh, catch him as he..."

Wondering if Marinette should be reconsidered for a few sporting clubs - the weight-lifting team might gladly welcome her - Miss Abelard got to work. She checked Adrien's breathing and pulse, put a cushion behind his head and elevated his feet, lifted his eyelids and checked his pupils, quickly retrieved his file to consult for any possible pre-existing conditions (though she already knew there would be none, save for an allergic reaction to feathers, which wasn't exactly life-threatening).

"How long has he been out?" she asked, frowning at her patient. If something should happen to Adrien while she was on duty, Mr Agreste would surely hold her responsible - the last thing she wanted was to be accused of negligence!

Marinette wrung her hands together. "O-only a few minutes. Shouldn't he be...?"

As if he had been listening in all along, Adrien stirred. Miss Abelard bent over him, stopping him from sitting up with a firm hand on his chest. "Easy, Adrien, stay still. You're in the medical bay right now. You fainted in the library."

He fidgeted for a moment, as her words took a second to register; then he obediently lay still, chuckling faintly. "Seriously?" he asked, cracking his eyes open and giving a small, embarrassed smile.

"Seriously. Wait a while before you try to sit up. Do you remember anything from before? Any blows to the head, ringing in your ears, bouts of shakes, pain of any kind?"

He thought for a moment. "No, all I remember is my vision going kind of fuzzy, and feeling like I was about to fall over."

"Well, you did," Miss Abelard told him flatly. "Are you suffering from exhaustion at all? Did you eat and drink enough today?"

Adrien looked sheepish. "Probably... not?" he admitted.

Louise gave an exasperated huff. If he had been seriously injured, it would have been her job on the line! "That was very silly of you," she said, bluntly. "I don't even see how that is possible, since you're on that eating plan-"

"That's why." Adrien swallowed nervously, before launching into a halting confession. "I sometimes, uh... deviate from my nutritionist's guidelines, and when I do I, um, cut out some calories from my regular menu, to make up for-"

"Ah." Louise understood; in fact, despite her professional standpoint on the matter, she actually sympathized. Adrien's eating regime was very strict, almost entirely made up of misery on a plate - even the most dedicated professional athlete would have a hard time swallowing it day after day. She wouldn't blame a teenage boy with a healthy appetite for ditching his scientifically-balanced dishes in favour of the odd treat. However, compensating by skipping meals was completely uncalled for.

"That was a dangerous thing to do," she scolded him. "I'd say your blood glucose levels dropped too low, causing you to pass out."

"Oh." Adrien dragged a hand over his face. "Will you have to tell Father?" he asked, looking at her pleadingly between his fingers.

She considered for a few long moments. "I'll write it up in your file," she said at last, "but I don't think it will be necessary to report this to him directly, unless your condition worsens."

"It won't," Adrien promised, trying to sit up again. "I'm sorry, I'm just a bit run-down and let myself go hungry for too long, it was stupid of me to-"

"It definitely was." Miss Abelard crossed to her desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a protein bar. "I'd like you to eat this, if you're able to. You should also have some water-"

Before she could finish, Marinette was already at her elbow, holding a paper cup. Adrien caught sight of her and blinked in surprise.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng saw you collapse and brought you here," Louise explained. Just how is still an explained phenomenon, she added to himself.

Adrien seemed to agree; he stared owlishly at Marinette for some time, finally remembering his manners enough to say "Thank you."

"D-don't mention it," the girl said, turning her gaze away shyly.

Miss Abelard took the cup of water from her - despite recent evidence to the contrary, past record said it was safer out of her hands - and put it on the bedside table, passing Adrien the protein bar. "I want to make sure you get something into you before I let you go. It would also be advisable for you to arrange to be picked up by car, if you're able-"

"I can manage," Adrien said instantly.

Guessing rightly that he didn't want his father to catch even the slightest hint of what had happened, Louise relented. "Then perhaps Marinette can walk you home, if it's not too much trouble."

"O-of course not," Marinette instantly offered, causing Adrien to regard her gratefully over his half-eaten protein bar. He chewed it slowly between sips of water.

Miss Abelard asked him if he had any lingering nausea or headache."Don't try to cover it up if you do," she warned him, when he answered to the negative. "You've been very silly and irresponsible. I don't think you realize just how serious this was. If you'd hit your head when you went down, you could have been concussed; or done all sorts of untold damage, depending on how you fell.

Adrien looked suitably contrite. "I know. I'm very sorry for causing so much trouble." He glanced in Marinette's direction as he spoke.

Satisfied that he was suitably chastened, Miss Abelard gave him another once-over, checking his pulse and eyes again, asking him for a few questions - his name, what day it was, where he lived - to make sure he wasn't confused or suffering memory lapses. "I hope whatever treat you had, it was worth it," she muttered.

An unexpected smile spread across Adrien's face. "Oh, it was," he assured her.

Louise fought to remain stern; she rather liked her food herself. "What proved to be so beyond temptation?" she asked. It was as good a question as any to check for concussion.

"Cookies." Adrien leaned back on the bed, beaming at the ceiling as he remembered.

Miss Abelard's mouth twitched. "They must have been pretty fantastic to warrant all this. What kind were they? Choc-chip?"

"Some of them were chocolate." It reassured her that he was remembering this without any effort. "Red velvet, covered with chocolate spots."

Miss Abelard raised her eyebrows; she had a self-confessed sweet-tooth, and what he had said appealed to it greatly. "That sounds delicious!"

"It was," Adrien dreamily replied. "They had a hint of cinnamon in them, almost like a buche de noel. And that wasn't all - there was also pistachio-nougat ones, with glace fruits all through them, and thick icing on the top!"

"I can understand why you found it hard to resist," Louise conceded. "How long ago did you have that?"

"Last night."

"And you haven't eaten anything since then?"

"Uh, no," he admitted, with a guilty grimace.

"Hmm." Louise gave him her best basilisk-glare. "Well, don't make a habit of skipping meals, it's a very dangerous thing to do. No cookie, however good, is worth jeopardizing your health for." She paused, then added: "Let me know if you feel that your nutritionist is being conservative with your calorie intake. If you're still significantly hungry after meals, or feeling weak or faint at any point in the day, just let me know, I'll write a recommendation for your portions be increased."

He smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you very much, ma'am," he said, with sincerity.

"That's alright. Now, if you're feeling better, you may go - but make sure you inform someone if you start to feel wobbly again, and see a doctor if you have any other lingering symptoms."

"I will," he promised, swinging his legs off the bed and getting to his feet. He seemed steady enough for her to let him go - with proper precautions.

"Marinette, can you still see him-?" She turned to find that the girl standing by the bed had gone incredibly white. All Louise's professional sensibilities went on full alert. "Marinette, are you alright? Do you feel ill? Maybe you should sit down-"

Adrien also leaned towards her concernedly; the girl instantly jolted upright, as if she had been stung. "N-no, I'm f-f-fine," she stammered. "I just... I guess it all caught up with me..."

Shock set in, Louise thought to herself. "Are you sure? You look a bit pale. You're welcome to rest here for a minute, I'm sure Adrien can wait-"

"No, i-it's fine!" As if to prove a point, Marinette strode to the door, opened it, and looked back across the threshold at Adrien. For some reason, her eyes swept searchingly over him for a moment. "I'll walk you," she said at last, "if you're ready."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Once more expressing his gratitude to Miss Abelard, Adrien followed her out of the room.

Louise paused before she stooped to pick up the pills she had dropped earlier, looking wonderingly at the empty doorway. She smiled softly to herself.

Though it wasn't really her place to say so, they would make a very cute couple.

They went back to the library to retrieve their things, then headed for the front gate together.

All the way down the stairs, Adrien could feel Marinette's eyes on his back. It was funny; he, and many other students besides, often watched Marinette navigate the staircase with bated breath, waiting for her to fall (which she quite often did). He felt guilty for it now, though unlike others, he at least had good intentions. He always watched to see if she fell, so he could try to catch her; unlike some people (namely Kim), he didn't place bets on how many steps she would manage before she inevitably tripped.

Their roles had been reversed, and now he felt like the clumsy one. He couldn't believe he had actually fainted! Just as well no one knew he was Chat Noir (except Plagg, who was bound to give him heaps later on). He had a reputation to uphold, and having been possessed by multiple akumas had already tarnished it. He was lucky that his 'princess' was none the wiser about just who she had saved - needing to be rescued as Adrien was embarrassing enough! He was exceedingly grateful that Marinette wasn't the type to tease or spread gossip.

She was being very quiet. Had he scared her? It must have been distressing for her to see him suddenly topple over like that! Yet again, he had unintentionally upset her, and he felt bad about it. Even if he hadn't really been at fault - other than with himself - he should apologize to her. When they were halfway across the quadrangle and she still hadn't said anything, he nervously cleared his throat.

"Uh, thanks Marinette, for helping me out. I've already caused you enough trouble, so there's no real need for you to see me home, I'm sure I can manage-"

"It's fine."

The brusqueness of her tone made him start. He glanced sideways at her. She was staring straight ahead, as if she were intentionally avoiding looking at him.

He was more than a little taken aback. Sure, she must have been startled by this whole incident; secretly, he was actually quite flattered that she seemed to be worried about him. Marinette was so kind to everyone, he really shouldn't be surprised! Even so, she probably thought that he was very stupid, doing this to himself, all because he had eaten-

Cookies! The thought suddenly hit him like a thunderbolt. He had just admitted in front of her that he had rejected her cookies yesterday, only to eat some others later that night! He suspected that Ladybug had gotten them from her bakery - two batches of red-and-green cookies were too great a coincidence to ignore - but of course she couldn't possibly know the full circumstances (nor did he really want her to). She must think that he had intentionally snubbed her!

"Um, I'm also sorry about yesterday," he went on. When she looked at him blankly - eye contact, that's a slight improvement! - he hastened to explain: "About the cookies you brought. I really did want to try them, they looked absolutely mouth-watering. If my father hadn't set all these stupid rules... I only ended up eating some later because I couldn't resist temptation twice. A friend brought some for me, and sh- er, they didn't know that I-"

"Adrien." Marinette stopped walking; he had to double-back in order to keep from leaving her behind. Had he said something wrong? Why was she looking at him like that? Why did she-

She took a deep breath, meeting his eyes with what seemed an effort. "Adrien, I know... that you, that you are... y-you're Chat Noir, aren't you?"

Adrien didn't really remember feeling faint before, but he definitely experienced it this time around. He didn't collapse, though it was quite possible that his senses temporarily took leave of his body. Something about him must have alarmed Marinette; he felt her hand on his arm, her grip surprisingly strong.

"Adrien?! Are you alright? Are you going to faint again? Oh, god! I shouldn't have just said it like-"

"It's okay." Though he still felt shocked - what an understatement! - from having heard her divulge his biggest secret out of nowhere, he was a hero and she was a civilian; his first instinct was to reassure her. "There was no other way to say it really, was there?"

She still seemed concerned for him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have blurted it out like that. Do you want to sit down? Come, over here..."

She led him towards a nearby bench, pulling him along by the arm. He followed her obediently, wondering at her all the while. It was incredibly remiss of him to sometimes forget what a great class president she was. Though she might be meek and flat-footed most of the time, Marinette was sort of a hero in her own right. His nickname for her really did suit; although...

"Maybe it's you who should call me 'princess'," he joked.

He felt her jolt travel right through her grip, up into his own arm. Whoops, too much Chat? he instantly rebuked himself. If she had only just realized this, she must be as shocked as he was, if not more.

They sat side by side on the bench, neither of them saying anything. Adrien took it upon himself to break the silence. "So, what let the cat out of the bag?"

Marinette turned on him with a look that was almost outraged - too much Chat! - opened her mouth, closed it again, and heaved a huge sigh. "The cookies," she said at last. "Those ones in particular were a test-batch that aren't for sale yet. The only ones who had them yesterday, besides Alya and Nino... and theirs didn't have spots or anything on them..."

Adrien felt a lead weight drop in his stomach. After all he had done to help her protect her identity, had he just given away...? "Y-you mean, you saw... at your store, she came to it... my Lady was-"

Why did she flinch? Was it so weird that he spoke of his partner so casually, even giving her a nickname, just as he had done with Marinette herself? After hearing Alya rave about her heroine in glowing terms - his Lady fully deserved every accolade she got - it must be odd to hear him speak of her as if she was just another of his friends. Though she was actually much more to him than that - not that he could confess that to Marinette, she already knew far more than she should!

The girl beside him was examining her shoes, an indescribable tension in the set of her shoulders. "She comes by the shop sometimes," she said, slowly. "We, uh, don't usually see her, but we leave some cookies out for her. She seems to like them a lot."

Adrien smiled. Ladybug had told him just last night that she often needed to supply her kwami with sugary snacks. If only he could have a similar arrangement with Paris' cheese-shops, reluctant though he was to drown in a smelly sea of camembert! It was just like Marinette to leave out free cookies for her hero. Even with all they did to protect the city, it almost seemed like an uneven trade - those cookies were that good!

If nothing else, he should use this opportunity to tell her as much. "For the record, I really like them too."

That seemed to win him some favour; she gave her ballet-flats a tiny smile. "I thought you might."

Her words from before came back to him. "Alya and Nino's cookies didn't have spots or paw-prints... Does this mean you decorated those ones just for us?"

Marinette shrugged; if there was one thing she was good at, Adrien decided, it was being modest. "It was the least I could do, for Paris' greatest hero."

Hero - singular noun. "Which of us were you trying to impress?" he couldn't help but ask, even if he didn't really care who her favourite was. She had called him 'awesome' once, but Alya had probably biased her pretty strongly in Ladybug's favour. And why not? - she was his favourite too!

Marinette baulked at the question. "B-both of you, of course," she said, looking as if she was mentally taking her foot back out of her mouth.

Adrien didn't push the point. He knew he needed to win her to his side, if he was to have any hope of getting her to keep his secret. Marinette might be well-meaning, but the temptation to tell Alya must be colossal - he struggled with it himself half the time!

"I'm sorry to put you on the spot like this," he said. "I wouldn't have wanted anyone to find this out, since it would put them - you - at great risk."

"I didn't mean t-"

"It's my own fault," he gently interrupted. "My carelessness caused all this. With me being to blame, it's hardly fair of me to ask you for favours; but it's very important that you don't tell anyone about this."

"Of course," she said, staring at him as if he had just said the most obvious thing in the world.

"Not anyone," he pressed, thankful that she was agreeing to this so readily. "Not even Alya."

She gave a derisive snort. "Definitely not!" Adrien smiled, utterly relieved that she was being so understanding. The thought of the blog titles Alya would come up with if she learned of his identity were enough to make him quake in his boots!

"What about Ladybug?" Marinette wanted to know. When Adrien opened his mouth to firmly tell her he couldn't share his partner's identity with her, she went on: "You'll tell her that I know, won't you?"

He sighed. He'd really made a mess of this, Ladybug would let him have it when she found out - and he would deserve it! "Yeah, I'll have to tell her," he agreed, "so that we can both protect you, in the event that anyone ever tries to get this secret out of you." He didn't say the word 'Papillion', in case it scared her any more than she already was. He looked at her carefully, this girl who have saved him today. Sure, he had protected her from Evilstrator and the Gamer in the past; but that was his duty, what he had willingly dedicated himself to when he had accepted his ring, whereas Marinette didn't even have a Miraculous to use to keep herself safe. He shouldn't have to extract so many promises from her, not when it was his secret that posed such a danger to her.

"Don't worry, Marinette," he said, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder; the slight touch made her jump. "The three of us - you, me, Ladybug - we'll all be in this together, we'll keep you safe between us. Just do me one other favour, please: don't tell Ladybug about today." When she didn't answer, he continued to appeal to her. "What I did today, the fainting thing - it was stupid." He scolded himself a little more forcefully than he had meant to. "It won't happen again, I promise; so if you see her, please don't tell her about it. I would never knowingly do anything that would make her doubt me as a partner. If she learned about it, she would only needlessly worry-"

"Of course I'm worried!"

Marinette surprised him yet again by leaping off the bench. Why did she look so... furious all of a sudden? And why did she say-

"You idiot!" she shrieked at the empty atrium above; he was suddenly very glad that there was no one else around. "How could you be so reckless?! What if this had happened while you were on a roof? Or balanced atop the Eiffel Tower? Or in the middle of an akuma attack? Do you want to hand Papillion your Miraculous on an unconscious platter? What if I hadn't been there to catch you today? What would I have thought if you were seriously hurt and just never turned up for patrol? And then you have the nerve to try to keep this from me - by asking me to keep it from myself! You are in serious trouble, kitty, so don't you dare try to say I shouldn't worry - of course I'm going to worry!"

The more she spoke, the surer Adrien was that he had hit his head when he fell after all. That was the only explanation for this; otherwise, it seemed like... that Marinette was talking like... as if she were...

"My... Lady?" he asked, hesitantly.

She shot him a withering look. "Wipe that shocked expression off your face! I haven't got time for you to come to terms with this, I'm too mad at you right now! Honestly, couldn't you just tell me that you couldn't eat those cookies, like you did earlier in the day? I would've understood, no questions asked! Besides, it's not like you've ever wanted to hide things that are related to your identity before, you used to always ask me if we could just know who the other was, so I don't understand why you didn't just-"

"Maybe I really wanted to eat the cookies," he pointed out. The edge was wearing off his bewilderment; the more he recognized of his Lady in the girl beside him, the more he was starting to enjoy this conversation!

"Save it," she told him, shooting him the unimpressed look he knew so well - practically every joke he'd ever made had been met with that same look! "This isn't about the cookies, this is about you being safe, so you can help me keep Paris safe! Having a Miraculous gives you a greater responsibility, it was selfish of you to-"

"I didn't do anything as terrible as all that," he interjected, a little hurt that she was being so harsh on him. "It was just a little fainting spell, nothing more, I certainly didn't mean for all this to happen. At least no great harm came from it." Attempting to lighten the mood, he grinned at her. "It's not like I tossed my cookies or anything!"

She emitted something that sounded a lot like a growl, planting her hands on her hips. "That is officially the worst pun you have ever told, and now is certainly not the time for any sort of humour! You know I depend on you, right?" Seeing how serious she was, he sobered instantly, hanging his head with a hint of shame. "I can't do this without you. If you don't take better care of yourself, one day I might have to do it without you, and that's the last thing I want! I thought you valued our mission more than that! I thought you valued yourself more than that! And yet I find out that you've been skipping meals, all because some cookies were wafted under your-"

"You said yourself that they were good," he reminded her.

"They were good," she shot back, utterly nonplussed. She wouldn't let him use compliments to soften her up, he should know by now that it wouldn't work. "That is no excuse for you to neglect yourself like that. Even a child knows that it's a bad idea to skip meals. Besides, we spend our nights running around on rooftops. Don't you think that would burn off a whole lot of calories?"

"Depends on how many chocolate dots you put on those cookies," he countered.

"There were five on each one, of course. The same as my-"

"I should have questioned how accurate those cookies were," he said, slapping himself on the forehead with a force that, after his earlier tumble, probably wasn't advisable. "Who else but you would've made them look so much like the real thing, eh, my Lady?"

Marinette opened her mouth to argue back. It was only then that she seemed to come back to herself, realizing all that she had just said. All that she had just revealed.

She didn't immediately say anything, though her mouth remained open for several long moments. Then she abruptly sat down, buried her face in her lap, and uttered a muffled scream. It was so similar to her embarrassed reaction from the previous day, he had to keep from laughing - considering how ferocious his Lady could be, and how mad she already was at him, it most certainly wouldn't do him any favours!

She raised her head a fraction, glaring at him through fingers that were almost as red as her face. It was ridiculously easy to picture those blue eyes surrounded by their customary mask. "Now look what you've made me do!" she hissed angrily at him.

He laughed outright at that. Not the safest option, but what else could he do? His Lady was next to him, and she cared enough to go into a righteous frenzy over his well-being, and she was also Marinette who made delicious cookies, and decorated them with his colours especially for him - could his life possibly get any better right now?

"Sorry, sorry..." he gasped through his laughter, seeing her glare a steady stream of dagger-edged-yoyos at him."It's just, I'm so glad that it's you! You saved me today, and carried me all the way to the nurse's office, and fussed over me, and brought me cookies - twice!" He gave her his best, Chat-like wink. "How much luckier can this cat get?"

She seemed somewhat mollified, though she still looked more than a little miffed at him. "If you hadn't already jeopardized your nine lives too many times, I'd take one off you as punishment," she huffily told him.

"I'd gladly give you as many as you request," he said, bobbing a little half-bow and noting, with pleasure, that her angry colouring seemed to have turned into a fierce blush. "In fact, I'd give you all of them, in return for another batch of those cookies - followed by a not-too-strenuous work-out and a nutritionally-balanced meal," he hastened to add, seeing her dart him a warning glance.

"After pulling a stunt like this, I don't think you deserve them," she haughtily informed him. Seeing the crestfallen look he gave her - Adrien Agreste was already adorable, he should not be able to do that ridiculously cute cat-with-drooping-ears expression on top of it! - she amended: "I might be able to bring you something else instead. My family's bakery makes healthier things too, you know. Like our special quiche with a low-calorie crust, all the local office-workers order it from us almost daily." She shouldn't be so lenient on him - she was still pretty mad - but the way he beamed all over his face at her, as if she were suddenly basking in the sun, made it all too easy to relent. "And I'll even throw in a few cheese danishes, as long as your kwami is the one who-"

Before she could finish, a small black shape burst out from beneath Adrien's shirt collar. "Yes, yes, a hundred times yes!" Zipping over to float close in front of her, Plagg began grovelling in mid-air. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're a goddess, an angel, a patron saint of pastries! The benevolence of the great Demeter was nothing compared t-"

"Plagg!" Tikki left Marinette's purse, hovering over the other kwami so she could glower down at him with folded paws. "Trust you to show up only when food has been mentioned! Where were you when all this was happening in the library? You could've helped-"

"I was helping!" If kwamis could pout, Plagg was doing it now. "Didn't you see me trying to guide your girl towards this idiot's pulse? Sue me for keeping the secret, like she insisted! You were the irresponsible one, hanging around out there in plain sight! Don't tell me that impersonating a rare red-leopard kitten still works for you whenever you get spotted!"

If it was possible, Tikki coloured beneath her already-puce complexion. "It was an emergency, at least I was being useful! How could you let this happen in the first place? You were probably too busy feeding yourself to take care of your chosen!"

Plagg gave a careless shrug. "As if I'm as bossy as all that! The kid's a lost cause anyway, I've tried and failed to get him to appreciate camembert multiple times over, he just doesn't-"

"The smell might have brought me round," Adrien cut him off, pulling a disgusted face at the thought.

Marinette laughed, remembering how similar his reaction had been when he had told her of his kwami's food preference the night before. "I'm glad we didn't have to resort to that!"

"Me too." He looked steadily at her, with green eyes that she now recognized, even without the mask around them. "The vision I woke to was far more pleasant." The intensity of his gaze upon her made it clear just which 'view' he meant.

She flushed several shades darker than her pink jeans. This was so unfair - how had she ever managed to just roll her eyes at Chat's pick-up lines?

"So," she said, giving a chuckle that ineffectually hid her nerves. "A-are you f-feeling any better now, Adrien?"

He couldn't help but capitalize on the situation. "Never better, Princess," he said, giving her another playful wink.

She fluttered, then rallied enough to give him a stern glare. It fascinated him to see these two girls he knew so well, mingled into one. "With all you've put me through, I should ban you from patrol for at least the next-"

"Aw, paw-lease don't!" he pleaded, pressing his hands together in supplication. "I'm as fit as a fiddle - or as a cat with a fiddle, you know I'm always ready to jump over the moon for you!"

"Hmph." Though she tried to look unimpressed, he could see the hint of a smile she fought to hold back. "Let's not let the dish run away with the spoon. Speaking of which, if you insist on turning up, we can at least make tonight's patrol as non-taxing as possible. I'll even feed you, if it will keep you from keeling over again. What should I bring? Quiche? You like that, right? I'll bring that, and what else? Sandwiches? Bread sticks? A few cheese danishes," she hurriedly added, seeing Plagg stir insistently beneath Adrien's collar; he settled again at her words. "I think our fruit tarts are pretty low in calories. Actually, most of our muffins and scones are-"

He wanted to kiss her for remembering that her father's quiche was his favourite. Or maybe he just wanted to kiss her. Tempting as it was, he had an even better idea.

Gazing lovingly at her, with an added eyebrow-wiggle for good measure, he said: "You're the only treat I need, Buginette."

That was definitely too much Chat! Marinette went rigid, goggled at him, and made inarticulate noises, as if the cat had her tongue - or had made her eat her words!

He didn't dare remind her of his offer to marry her, or let her know that it still stood. That would make her swoon for sure! Although, he would certainly welcome the chance to return the favour, carrying her to the nurse's office this time!

Author's note: this is for Aeon The Dimensional Girl, who requested a story where one of the characters got injured. Sorry, this isn't exactly what you asked for; I'll do it properly when the angst-o-meter has run down a bit more!

Disclaimer, I have no real first-aid training, and I have no idea if any of this is remotely like proper procedure for when somebody faints, so please don't use this story as a guide. I have fainted before though, and it's not much fun at all!

I got the name 'Louise Abelard' from characters in a touch-screen-based RPG I've recently been following, 'City of Love: Paris' (notice a similar theme in the things I currently like? ;) If you're into dating sim games, or even if you're not, give this one a try, it has a really intriguing story line and beautiful graphics!

I realized I hadn't included any tongue-tied Marinette-isms in this story yet, how remiss of me! When I came up with that ba/itch joke, I couldn't resist putting it in, though I did cringe on her behalf. Sorry, Mari!

I contradicted myself by having the school locked up for the weekend in the previous chapter, yet open to students in this one. I have heard that some French schools have lessons on Saturday mornings, so maybe that's when the lesson at the beginning of 'Glasses' took place, with the rest happening on the following Sunday? Speaking of contrasts - or lack thereof - this is the second episode in a row where Tikki plays medic, as well as yet another chapter where Marinette yells at Adrien for not taking care of himself properly (see 'Autograph: Part Two'). I'll try to make sure I do something completely different in the next installment.

I can practically hear fans of my full-length Miraculous story howling for my blood, so I should up-date that one next. With some busy work-related times ahead of me, I don't know when that will be, so please be patient - there is plenty more to come! ~ W.J.