When Chat Noir reached their meeting place, he saw that Ladybug had arrived there ahead of him, and he smiled.

"My Lady," he said, bowing. "Are you ready to—"

"Chat, do you think I'm sexy?"

He stopped short, taken completely off guard by her question. "Ah, is that a trick question?"

"No!" She began earnestly, clutching her yoyo to her chest and stumbling a bit as she stepped closer to him. "I really want to know, because there's this guy, right? And I'm toootally in love with him, because he's incredible, and I know that he knows that I exist becaus I can finally talk to him now, and we talk, you know? We talk! But it's been years, and he only sheesh—no, sees, me as a friend. So I thought, maaaybe I'm not sexy enough. Or maybe I'm not likeable! Am I not likeable, Chat?"

Chat stared at her, trying to sort through her unusually rapid speech and grandiose gestures for meaning, and he must have taken too long. Her eyes rounded and filled with tears, and the next thing he knew, she'd thrown her arms around him and was sobbing into his chest.

"I'm un-liiiike-a-bllllle," she wailed.

"What just happened?" He asked the sky. Chat put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back, so that he could see her face, and recoiled immediately. "Dieu, Ladybug, your breath smells like a winery. Are you drunk?"

Her mercurial mood shifted again, and she giggled. "Chat Noir, are you sober?"

"Well, that is usually how we do patrols," he muttered, still trying to wrap his head around a drunk Ladybug.

"Oh! That's why I'm here. I can't go patrolling with you tonight." She leaned forward and put a hand on his shoulder to pull him down, closer to her face, as if to tell him a secret. "I'm a little drunk," she whispered conspiratorially, and giggled again.

"So I noticed," he deadpanned, and sighed. He'd been looking forward to patrolling with her. "I'll take care of the patrol tonight, Bug. You go on home and—Hang on, how did you even get here?"

"Like this!" Ladybug swung out her yoyo and promptly hit herself in the forehead. Then she frowned down at it on the ground, as if surprised to see it there. "Ow."

Chat blanched, thinking of all the ways she could have killed herself trying to play Spider Man while drunk. "Okay. New plan. Patrol is canceled, and I am taking you home."

"You can't take me home, silly. You don't know where I live." She tried to put a hand on her cocked hip, but missed, and jabbed her thumb into her hip. She looked down, placed her hand carefully on her hip, and then looked back at him with a proud smile. "Besiiides," she continued, "if you take me home, you'll know who I am! You can't know who I am, that would be insane."

He sighed. He should have known that she'd be hell-bent on protecting their identities, even drunk. "Then I'll take you back to my—uh, my friend's house. I'll take you to my friend, and he will take care of you."

Ladybug tipped forward from the hips, and narrowed her eyes assessingly. "You're just going to take me to your house, detransform in another room, and then come in pretending to be surprised, aren't you?"

"No! No no no, of course not." She crossed her arms and arched her brow skeptically, then over-balanced and stumbled forward. He sighed. "Ok, fine. Yes, that's exactly what I was going to do. But you can't get home on your own like this. Either you let me take you somewhere safe, or we're sitting here until you sober up."

"Ugh, fiiiine. But only if you promise to help me figure out why Adrien Agreste isn't interested in me." She huffed petulantly, oblivious to the dumbfounded expression on his face. "I'm not really unlikeable, am I?" She whined.

Then she blanched, and her eyes widened. "Oh, shit!" She clamped her hands over her mouth, spun away from him, and puked right there on the roof.

He blinked at his retching companion, and shook his head as if to clear it. "How is this my life?" He asked no one at all. He sighed and put a hand on her back, smiling ruefully. "Somehow, I always envisioned our reveal being so much more romantic."