Chapter Thirteen - The Ice Cream Da- Uh, Platonic Outing. As Friends.

Andre was thrilled to see them. He gave them both complimentary ice creams, so tall Chat Noir was sure they would fall over before they had a chance to melt, and of course based on each other's costumes. Strawberry, black raspberry, and blueberry for him. Banana, mint, and black vanilla for her.

As they strolled across the bridge and away from the crowd Andre's cart had attracted, Ladybug grabbed his hand, and Chat Noir had his first out-of-body experience.

Mechanically, he kept walking like nothing was wrong. Internally, he was on at least three different planes of existence simultaneously.

One was existential bliss. Their hands fit together perfectly. The sun warmed his face. Their steps echoed down to the water in perfect harmony.

The second was a detached "huh, that's weird" state of calm.

The third was frothing-at-the-mouth hyper analysis. Was he not walking fast enough and she was afraid their ice cream would melt? Could there be a hidden meaning? Did she simply not want to be separated, so she was leading him? Was he squeezing her hand too hard? Was she wishing he was someone else? Were other people seeing this? Was she becoming self conscious?

"Here," she said when they reached the far end of the bridge. She slipped her hand out of his (and took his heart with it) and handed him her ice cream. "Hold this for me and I'll lift us up."

He took it, then registered her words. "What?"

But Ladybug had already grabbed him around the middle and thrown her yoyo. The ground fell away under his feet and his stomach dropped with the sudden lurch, but he thankfully dropped zero desserts. He would have blamed the swing of the yoyo if he had. The press of her hip into his side would have truly been to blame.

From their highrise vantage point, the Seine was wide and dark. The streetlamps below flicked on one by one, creating tiny bubbles of light. The best part was they were much too high to be expected to interact with anyone else. A few people stopped and looked up, but they were too far away for even Chat Noir's enhanced hearing to pick up the camera clicks and yells of hello.

It was nice to sit with her, and to be seen sitting with her, quietly licking their ice creams, knees occasionally bumping together.

It almost felt like a date.

Except for the fact that she had no romantic interest in him whatsoever. He took a big bite of his ice cream, so cold his teeth ached, to keep himself from sighing like the lovesick idiot he probably was.

Ladybug didn't talk much. At first he thought it was because she was eating, but her dangling feet kicked against the side of the building, and whenever she wasn't holding her cone with both hands her free fingers started to drum her leg. She was jittery, and the longer they sat in silence, the worse it got.

So he talked to fill up the space between them. About what he thought Paris looked like tonight and how dumb the latest akumas were and about his favorite desserts. It helped. The longer he talked, the more natural the slope of her shoulders became and the slower the drumming of her fingers.

Even if she didn't return his feelings, hanging out with her like this was nice. For a few minutes, the girl of his dreams gave him her undivided attention and shy smiles. (Maybe he could let his imagination sweep him away a little. Just this once.)

When the sun was completely set and their cones were long gone, it was time to leave. Chat Noir was the first one to stand up. Someone would probably check on him soon, if only to tell him to go to sleep.

"I had fun tonight," Ladybug said, getting to her feet.

"Me, too. Maybe we should do this again sometime?" He motioned to the space between them, in case his meaning wasn't completely clear.

The nightlife of Paris lit up the streets far below them. Ladybug's eyes sparkled in the reflected glow. "I'd love to!"

Two feelings hit him in rapid succession. One was the swoop of excitement, as if he didn't get to see her almost every day already. The other was worry. Why was she so excited to spend time with him? She wasn't feeling lonely in her civilian life, was she?

"Great, it's a date then." He put his hand on her shoulder (instead of her cheek like he wanted to). "I love spending time with you, and I can't wait to see you again." He hoped she heard his sincerity, that it was something she could carry with her when she felt alone. That she would know there would always be someone longing to see her.

Ladybug took a step closer, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He leaned in.

And he turned to offer his cheek for a farewell kiss.

Ladybug's nose rammed into the side of his face.

"I'm sorry!" she squawked. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" She danced back, holding her hands over her nose, and then covering her entire face. "I thought you–"

"It's okay," he said, rubbing his cheek. "I must not have turned enough."

"No, no! You– I didn't think–" Her eyes peeked over the tips of her fingers. The skin above her mask was flushed bright red, all the way up to her hairline. "G-goodnight!"

She left him with many questions. The biggest: He'd been French his whole life. How had he managed to mess up la bise?

A/N: I love how they're living in two completely different realities. XD