One week later was May. The weather was warmer. Flowers were blooming. Bees were buzzing.

And Ladybug was still acting weird.

Chat Noir stared at her message. "Come to the Jardin de Luxembourg lawn and bring your baton." Like she thought he was going to forget it or something.

The sun had just gone down, so the garden and the rest of the grounds would be closed to the public. The lawn was a wide open space, crisscrossed by walkways and ringed with flower beds that sat behind an old palace. And it was nowhere near their normal patrol route. He couldn't figure out why she wanted to meet there. He shifted, adjusting the blanket over his shoulder as it started to slip again, and went off to the new meeting place.

"I said 'baton,' not 'blanket,'" Ladybug said when he touched down. She was leaning against a stone pillar in the middle of the lawn, a smile on her face.

"First, why wouldn't I bring my baton? And second-" He held the blanket out to her. "You forgot this last time."

"Didn't," she said, pushing off so she could grab it from him. "It was a gift."

The fabric slid easily out of his hands, as floored as he was. She'd not only made it with him in mind, but for him. A giddy warmth spread from his heart and radiated outward through his entire body as Ladybug shook the blanket out, refolded it, and placed it at the base of the column. This was a fantastic way to start their meeting, honestly.

By the time she turned back to him, he had schooled his face into an expression more neutral than the overwhelming, joyful love he felt for her.

"Okay," she said, fists on her hips. She pinched her lips together in a tight line, but she couldn't completely hide the smile that pulled on the edges of her mouth until she swallowed it and continued. "I was thinking that we should start training together."

"Training?" he echoed.

"Yeah, like–" She karate chopped the air in front of her. "So we can get better at fighting!" The smile sprung up, full brightness, and she didn't bother to hide it this time. It was wide and goofy, and he loved it.

"No other reason," she added.

That sounded exactly like there was another reason, but she didn't give him enough time to think about what it could be because she quickly launched into the story of how she'd gotten the idea and then watched several dozen videos on martial arts stances and how important it was to have a solid base. The speed with which she hurled information at him was impressive, and if he didn't know any better - he narrowed his eyes - this whole thing smelled like she was avoiding something.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Huh?" Ladybug stood on one foot, demonstrating what she'd learned about maintaining balance while kicking, but slowly lowered it. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"You just seem nervous or something. Is that ongoing–" he waved his hand, unsure of what word to use because she still hadn't told him what was wrong– "issue still bothering you?"

"Oh no," she said. "That's fine! I've embraced it, actually!" And her smile became impossibly wider, rivaling the smiles Marinette used to give him, which was saying something.

"Now show me your most solid stance, and I'll try to knock you over."

"Ladybug," he said, not moving. "You shouldn't give in to something just because it's a persistent problem."

"Sure," she muttered, almost to herself. "Now you think that."

"What?" he said.

Ladybug came over and tapped his boot with her toe until he got the hint and widened his stance.

"When have I ever advocated for choosing something that you know will make you miserable?"

"I never believed it would make me miserable." Ladybug shoved his shoulder, but he didn't budge. "I was just a blockhead for fighting it for so long." She pulled his arm instead with the same result. "And it's probably too late anyway, but I'm going to try. I've got a 145-step plan and everything."

"One hundred–" He felt his eyes grow wide. "Isn't that overkill?"

"No. The success of this plan is very important to me."

The glint in her eye was captivating but not enough to sway him. He was about to put up his next argument when Ladybug hopped forward and body checked him. He'd been expecting it, so it was easy to stay put. "M'Lady—"

"Wow, Chaton! You're really strong!"

He glared at her. Flattery was not a weapon she used often, and he was determined not to be distracted and let her change the subject. (Even if he did stand a little taller.)

"Now hold your arms like this," she said.

Her words weren't enough to derail his thoughts, but her hands encircling his wrists were. The glide of her suit against his as she moved up to his elbows then his shoulders and instructed him to relax. The line of fire as she dragged her fingers back down to his hands until she had him exactly where she wanted him.

Ladybug was watching his face, so he kept his expression neutral. Which wasn't that hard, considering his mind was just static. Her hands were still wrapped around his, holding them up between them.

She'd never touched so much of him so deliberately before.

"Now, try to block this." She released him to pluck her yoyo off her hip.

His hands sagged slightly, but he put them back into position because that's where she'd told him to keep them. The fabric of her suit had been smooth and cool against his. Would her skin against his feel like that? No, it would be warmer, less glossy and slick. More real.

"It's a new move. You ready?"

"Uh huh." He wasn't really sure what the question was, but he would agree to anything she wanted right now.

Her bare fingers interweaved with his, the brush of her nails raising goosebumps as they grazed a line up his arm, the whisper of her breath on his lips.

Pain exploded at the crown of his head, shattering his fantasy.

"Chat!"

Ladybug hovered over him, yoyo dangling from one hand. He hadn't immediately realized he was on his back in the grass.

"Are you okay?" she asked, voice edged with worry.

"Fine," he said, sitting up. He mourned that she slid back to give him room. But of course she would. She didn't want him in her space.

"I'm so sorry. We should stop. This was a stupid–"

"No, no, I just needed you to knock some sense into me," he said, pasting on a smile and resisting the impulse to rub the sore spot on his head. "I'm all good now."

Ladybug wavered, seeming to shrink in on herself, so he got up and took his stance again. "Ready for whatever you dish out." And he hoped that it was true.

Author's note: Hello. I took a few weeks off to finish up my Big Bang contribution, which I've completed and begun posting, so I'm returning to this one! (I haven't forgotten "These Are the Things," despite appearances.)