"How many points will I earn if I can get Mary to stand on the table and sing 'New York, New York'?" Chat Noir asked lazily, stretching out on the windowsill and gazing out at the streets of Paris.
Marinette struggled to contain her amusement, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the giggles that threatened to escape. She disguised her reaction as a yawn, hoping no one noticed.
Here she was, hours into her workday, having accomplished little beyond fetching coffee and treats from the bakery and sharpening Lillie's pencil. It seemed Mary was once again revelling in the return of her preferred assistant. In a swift 1 minute and 20 seconds, Marinette had been ousted from her first assistant role, with Lillie triumphantly reclaiming the position. The sight of Lillie's smug smirk ignited a mischievous urge in Marinette. She entertained a fleeting fantasy of wielding that sharpened pencil for more dramatic purposes.
Glancing out of the window, her mind drifted to more creative pursuits. She longed for the freedom to design her next fashion masterpiece, instead of being entangled in office politics.
Perhaps, she thought wryly, this was just another twist in her ongoing saga, where she played the role of the underdog heroine striving for recognition in a sea of competitive assistants. As she daydreamed of escaping the mundane, she couldn't help but wonder when her chance at a happy ending would finally arrive.
Lillie leaned in close to their boss, her voice carrying a tone of conspiratorial excitement that made Marinette cringe inwardly. She busied herself with organising papers, trying to drown out their conversation, but her curiosity got the better of her.
She clenched her jaw, vowing not to let Lillie's antics derail her focus. Yet, beneath her composed exterior, she felt a surge of determination. This wasn't just office politics; it was personal. She was determined to rise above the drama and show everyone—including Lillie—that she was more than capable of succeeding, despite the obstacles in her path.
She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something peculiar about this girl. Every time Adrien was in the office, she seemed to go out of her way to avoid him. Case in point: the incident where she'd supposedly fallen down the stairs, which had miraculously turned into a car accident resulting in nothing more than a tiny scratch on her knee. Yet, it had conveniently kept her away from work for three whole days. Suspicious? She thought so!
"We really need something to dazzle Mr. Agreste. Adrien's feedback from his visit was less than favourable," Mary declared, glancing over the documents Adrien had emailed to Marinette earlier that morning.
Despite her no longer holding the role of first assistant, and Adrien being very aware of Lillie's return (thanks to her rants), it seemed he was eager to keep Marinette involved. She couldn't help but smile to herself, grateful for his thoughtfulness—even if it meant he was multitasking during his return journey to France just to keep her in the loop.
As she pondered the contents of the emails, a familiar warmth spread through her.
"If you want to impress him, have Marinette do the designs," Chat Noir suggested to no one in particular, a slight blush colouring her cheeks from her partner's unwavering support. She couldn't help but feel like she must look unwell with how often she found herself flushing.
It appeared that Gabriel wasn't satisfied with the collaborative ideas presented by Mary and Lillie, urging them to create something more unique for his upcoming visit to Paris in a month's time. Furthermore, he had spoken to Mary about considering a collaboration with another designer in the city, whom he'd touted as the "next best thing," much to Mary's dismay.
Whilst Mary and Lillie chattered away, Marinette glanced down at her notepad, once again lost in her sketches. As she thought about Adrien singing topless in his car, a vivid image that refused to leave her mind, a new idea sparked.
What if she designed a collection inspired by the unexpected and carefree moments in life—like Adrien singing passionately in his car? The idea excited her; it would be a departure from the usual, and a perfect fit for Gabriel's call for uniqueness.
Her sketches began to take shape, blending elements of classic elegance with a touch of spontaneity. Flowing lines and vibrant colours danced across the pages, capturing the essence of freedom and joy. She envisioned Adrien's charismatic energy translated into each design—a collection that would make heads turn and hearts skip a beat.
With a determined smile, she continued sketching, fueled by the excitement of turning her imaginative vision into reality. This could be her chance to make a statement in the world of fashion, all while holding onto a delightful secret muse.
She was abruptly pulled away from her own designs by a loud bang on the table, directing her attention back to Mary's scattered sketches.
Lillie sat up in her chair, her eyes wide and obnoxious as she addressed Mary. "These were your best designs yet, Miss Humphries. I don't understand what Gabriel wants."
"Suck up!" Chat Noir retorted, standing and walking from where he had been sitting on the floor against the wall. "Show Mary some of your designs, M'Lady! I'm quite sure if she saw them she'd want to use them."
He approached Marinette, who shook her head subtly. Gently placing a finger on her lips, she motioned for him to follow her out of the room. He glanced between her and the women at the table before nodding in understanding and heading towards the kitchenette.
"As you wish." He pretended to zip his mouth, trying his best to be quiet. If the other times were anything to go by, this would probably last about 5 seconds.
"I'll just go and grab some more treats," she said, ignoring the playful (i.e. annoying) charades of her partner.
Mary waved her off. "Finally! Marinda, you really need to learn how to do your job properly."
Suppressing a sigh, Marinette bit the inside of her cheek. Choosing to ignore the comment, she swiftly exited the room, her feet carrying her out as quickly as possible. Once she reached the empty kitchen, a surge of frustration threatened to overwhelm her, and she struggled to contain the urge to scream.
Frustrated, she stormed around the kitchen, yanking open cupboard doors and slamming items like an adolescent in a rebellious phase. With a dramatic flair, she placed a choux pastry on a plate, prompting a gasp from Chat Noir. Without ceremony, she stabbed a knife through the centre, repeating the action with force.
"That's not how you treat a pastry," he said.
She ignored his scolding and continued moving around the room like a bull in a China shop.
"You know what's the most annoying thing?" She waved the knife at him before stabbing it into the pastry again. He looked at her, slightly terrified and completely bewildered. She couldn't blame him really. She must look insane.
"Ermm… That the pastry can't even defend itself?" he questioned.
She slammed the knife down with a rather impressive clang, and turned, resting her back against the kitchen counter. "I've done everything since Lillie went off with her non-existent injury, and what do I get for it? 'That skinny latte was too skinny, Marianne.'"
"Hey, where's that Ladybug spirit I know so well?"
"Gone," she uttered with defeat, slouching against the counter. Her hand reached up and rubbed her eyebrows.
"Then bring her back! The Ladybug I knew wouldn't go down without a fight."
"That Ladybug is long gone," Marinette replied, her eyes searching for her shoes before she revealed the depth of her despair. "She disappeared when you did. I thought you would have gathered that by now."
She turned back to the pastries, aware that her words had likely stung him deeply. She couldn't bring herself to witness the hurt on his face. She knew he carried guilt for leaving, and mentioning it once again was like rubbing salt into his wounds. She recognised the need to temper her anger and refrain from unfairly targeting him.
Chancing a glance, her eyes lifted under her lashes, his own looking so sorrowful in response. He opened his mouth to say something before closing it again, his tongue darting out to lick over their dryness as he obviously considered his choice in words.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his arms reaching out to touch her before falling back.
"No! I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm in a mess and taking it out on you. None of this is your fault." She crossed her arms over her chest, a stray tear clutching onto her lower lashes as she attempted to keep control of her words. "You didn't do anything wrong. I just wasn't as strong as I thought I was."
Or I just wanted you more than the career—but I was too late.
She shrugged nonchalantly before returning to preparing drinks and snacks for her boss. This wasn't the moment for a heart-to-heart discussion. She was relishing the simple joy of being with him again; she didn't want to delve into the complexities of why her life had unravelled when they'd parted ways.
"M'Lady," he said, the sympathy only causing her heart to ache more.
She missed him. She missed him so goddamn much, and now he was back – but not really. She couldn't even touch him. She wanted to hold him. She wanted him to hold her.
"It's okay," she sniffed, rubbing her nose with her fist. "I'm okay." She looked at him.
His eyes softened as he took in her sad smile. "You know what? I've been with you now for three weeks, Marinette, and you're just as wonderful as Ladybug—because Ladybug doesn't exist without you."
"No need for the attempted flattery, Chaton. I know I'm a mess."
He shook his head violently side to side. "No! You're not! You're amazing, LB, and you just need to believe it! You are Ladybug. She is you. Whatever this split personality thing is you have going on, it's fake! You're not just Ladybug or just Marinette. You're a mix of them both. One only survives with the other."
"Are you saying I'm my own horcrux?" Marinette giggled, grabbing a spoon and the sugar pot. She waited for Chat Noir to laugh back. However, she was slightly taken aback with the lack of humour from her partner.
"Chaton?" As she glanced at him, she noticed his eyebrows were doing the quirky thing she'd always adored, the one where she wanted to rub a thumb over them and smooth them back down.
"What's a horcrux?"
"...You know…a horcrux!"
He shook his head, pursing his lips. "Nope. As I just said, 'What's a horcrux?'"
"...From Harry Potter? When Voldermort puts a piece of himself in Harry? A horcrux!"
"You know, no matter how many times you tell me that word, I'm still not going to know what you mean."
All sadness was taken from her as her gaze burned holes into Chat Noir. "How do you not know?"
"I've obviously never watched it in 'the suit'!"
"B-but…it's Harry Potter."
"Again…who?"
Marinette sighed. "Who the hell are you?"
"Can we just get back to the conversation, please? It doesn't matter which way you spin this…Barry Potter thing."
"Harry!" she interrupted.
"Sorry, Barry Harry. But you are Ladybug, and I think you should go in there and tell them exactly how you feel!"
"Are you suggesting I just quit my job?" He couldn't be serious. Did he want her to just walk in there and tell them 'goodbye'?
"If it'll make you happy."
"I can't just give up my job! What do you expect me to do for money?"
"You're Ladybug. You'll figure something out."
"I can't quit!" she hissed.
She turned around and finished making the drinks, before grabbing the mugs and making her way back into the main office, Chat Noir following behind her. Using her hip to open the door, she made her way back into the conference room.
"What happened, Marinette? Forget where to get water from?" Lillie started laughing. She was alone in the room, Mary obviously having a comfort break of some sort.
"Good one." Marinette smiled, placing the mugs in front of each of the women's notepads.
"What's with you today? Sad that your boyfriend isn't in the office?"
"He's not my boyfriend," Marinette retorted, removing the cup and plate from Mary's place at the table.
"Of course he's not. He has taste."
Marinette felt a flame ignite inside, her eyes looking to catch a glint at her partner. She needed his strength. She needed him.
She looked down at the designs on the table, the ones Lillie had created exactly as their boss wanted…. Ones Gabriel Agreste had hated. "There are too many colours on these items. They're all fighting for dominance. That's why Gabriel said no."
"Well, it doesn't matter." Lillie stood from the table and closed her book, packing it away in her bag and taking a quick drink of the coffee Marinette had just prepared. "Too sweet!" She screwed up her face as she placed it back down.
"Where's Mary gone?" Marinette began to tidy the room, just as she did after every meeting.
"Gone." Lillie grabbed her jacket and put it on.
"Gone? Where?"
"Home, I guess. The meeting's finished."
"Finished?"
"Geez, Marinette, when did you turn into a parrot?"
Marinette stood tall, catching a glimpse of Chat Noir. He was there. He was supporting her. And he was right. She was Ladybug, for crying out loud. "Stop being such a bitch and answer my question."
"Me-ow! Someone's suddenly grown claws. Did you get nail extensions to match your hair?" Lillie started laughing.
"Are you going to tell me where she went or not?"
A slight twitch appeared on Lillie's lips, and Marinette half-expected the blonde to leap over the table and start pulling her hair out. Moments passed, with Chat Noir praising Marinette for standing her ground, clearly impressed that his 'Love Bug' had made a reappearance.
"She's gone home. All you need to know is I fixed the designs and she's happy with them. Now, if you'll excuse me." Pushing past her, Lillie made her way out the room leaving Marinette, alone, to clean the table.
"Good work, LB!" Her partner studied the table and winced. It really was quite a mess. "I wish I could help."
Marinette laughed. "You already have. Believe me, the support meant more than you will ever know."
He smiled at her, and she felt that familiar flutter in her stomach that was reserved solely for him. He was like a ray of sunshine, always there with unwavering support, and she found herself growing fonder of him with each passing day. But deep down, she knew this was all a fantasy—a beautiful dream that couldn't be real. If only life could mirror her feelings, she thought wistfully.
She carried on clearing the room before checking the clock on the wall and noticing how long she'd been here. Picking up her bags, she decided to deal with what was left in the morning. It was only half a day, after all. She could come in, deal with the mess, get shouted at, and then head off for a weekend with Adrien Agreste and his family.
His family.
The mug she was holding fell to the floor, Marinette cursing as she dropped to her knees and began to clean it. A weekend with Adrien's family meant a weekend with Gabriel Agreste…the Gabriel Agreste. The one who she was technically now working for. Her designer idol and a stuck-up snob. Oh, yikes! This was going to be worse than imagined.
"Are you okay?" Chat Noir was straight by her side, attempting to take her hand in his.
"I'm fine. See?" She lifted both her hands and twisted them in front of his face, the relief visible in the droop of his shoulders.
Cleaning the broken china, Marinette quickly placed it all in the bin (leaving a note of warning on top for the cleaners) and headed over to her bag.
She packed away her pencil, colouring pens, and laptop—then froze.
She was certain she had used her sketchbook today—almost positive. Yet, as she scanned her workspace, the sketchbook was conspicuously absent.
Her mind raced with possibilities. Could she have left it in another room? Or worse, had it been misplaced? Or taken?
Trying to quell her rising worry, she reasoned that it must be in her desk drawer. It had to be.
She hastily grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, making her way out of the building and stepping out into the evening air of Paris. But as she walked, her thoughts were still fixated on her missing sketchbook, the nagging uncertainty gnawing at her.
Marinette loved her small one-bedroom apartment. After all, it was perfectly located and cosy…but most of all, it was hers.
What she didn't love was the seven flights of stairs to get to her floor. She felt like she was in The Big Bang Theory with how often the lift was out of order. Why had she chosen one of the tallest apartment blocks in Paris?
Finally reaching her floor, Chat Noir cheering her on as she crawled the last couple of steps, Marinette swore under her breath as the door next to her apartment opened and Luka stepped out.
"Marinette," he called. "You're late, this evening."
Smiling like the polite and friendly friend she was, she headed in the direction of her door and ultimately Luka.
"Very busy day in the office," she huffed, dropping her bags down and reaching for the keys in her side bag.
"Have you eaten?" he asked.
She tried her hardest not to upset him by telling him she just wanted the company of her giant imaginary cat tonight. "No. I have some leftover soup from last night. I was just going to heat it up and take a nice hot bath."
"Oh. Because I've just ordered a rather extensive amount of Thai food for one person. How about you come over and help me eat it?"
Right on cue, her stomach growled and answered the question for her. How dare it be so weak for the idea of Thai food!
Chat Noir stood beside her, arms crossed and his eyes burning into Luka. "Say 'no', Marinette! You've had a hard day. Let's just have a bath and me, you and Tikki can play Dobble again."
As appealing as a bath and Dobble sounded, she couldn't say no to Thai food. Everyone in the hallway knew that. It was her weakness. Her kryptonite.
"Sure." Marinette smiled. "That would be great."
Stepping forward, Luka effortlessly took a couple of her bags before guiding her into his apartment. The delightful aroma that greeted her seemed to lift her off the ground. Her mouth hung open in anticipation, as if she were a character from a Looney Tunes cartoon about to devour a delicious meal.
"How attractive!" Chat Noir said, staring at her. Her chin suddenly felt damp from where she'd drooled over herself. Oh, boy! She was a mess.
Lifting the back of her hand to her mouth, she gave it a quick wipe over before heading further into Luka's apartment.
Where Marinette would call her apartment eclectic, Luka's was surprisingly streamlined and minimal. There were a few artefacts placed around the apartment, ones from the different places he had been with his father and Penny when on tour. Then there were photos of family and friends – the ones of her and him outnumbering the others.
"This is some freaky shit!" Chat Noir's sudden outburst had her jumping on the spot.
"Who are you? Negan?"
"Awww, you noticed my new jacket." Luka stopped in front of her and placed the bags down, before holding his arms out and doing a slow twirl.
"Oh, yeah! Really nice, and you know how much I love The Walking Dead," Marinette replied with a grin, glancing at Chat Noir for a shared moment of amusement.
Chat Noir interjected with a smirk, "Well, if anyone can pull off that post-apocalyptic chic, it's definitely him."
Marinette snorted again, taking it into a cough. "Sorry," she said hoarsely, "something caught in my throat."
Lying through your teeth again, Marinette. Well done!
"So, what are your plans for the weekend?" Luka moved into his kitchen area.
Marinette quickly turned to Chat Noir, making sure her partner understood to shut up. "I'm actually going away with Adrien for a couple of days. It's his Gammy's birthday and his cousin's pre-wedding engagement celebration."
She hopped up onto one of the bar stools in the kitchen, thanking Luka as he brought her over a glass of water and a tub of her favourite noodles.
"Getting a little friendly, aren't you? What do you actually know about this guy?"
Marinette frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you met him randomly a couple of weeks ago and you've been around him almost every day since. How much do you actually know about him?"
"For once I agree with Cobra Kai," Chat Noir said, moving to stand beside Luka.
Chat Noir had a complicated relationship with Adrien—sometimes supportive like a loyal wingman, other times suspicious to the point of imagining him as a potential serial killer, with her as the next target. The unpredictability of Chat Noir's feelings towards Adrien kept Marinette on her toes, never quite sure what to expect from her feline companion.
Marinette sighed exasperatedly. "Why does everyone seem to have an issue with the time I'm spending with Adrien?"
"It's not so much an issue as I'm just worried about you. You haven't been this obsessed with anyone since Chat Noir."
"Obsessed?! I'm not obsessed," she argued flatly. Though Luka wasn't entirely wrong. She hadn't spent much time in and out of work with Adrien, but she was always communicating with him in some form.
"Here, here!" Chat Noir held a hand up to Luka as though they could high five. Suddenly, her partner was turning against her. She wanted to pick something up and throw it at the both of them.
Would it be a bad thing to dramatically storm out of the room?
Luka looked at her again in that therapist way which was both awesome and annoying in equal measure.
"I'm not obsessed!" she repeated. And she wasn't. It wasn't like she sat looking at her phone waiting for him to text, or she was constantly thinking about him…topless…in his fancy sports car…singing One Direction. If anything, he was the one obsessed with her…
Wait…no…that wasn't right.
"We haven't seen a lot of you –"
"You rarely see me anyway. Listen, Luka, I know you care about me–I care about you too–but there is nothing going on with Adrien. We're just friends. Just because he used to be a model and I work in fashion, it doesn't mean –"
"He was a model?"
Luka's question took her off guard and she couldn't help but look at him as though he was from another planet.
The bubbling took over and she couldn't control it. She suddenly started laughing — long and hard. Had Luka been living under a rock? Though she wasn't one to comment. She had realised who he was at first either.
"A model." Luka chuckled. "He doesn't look like a model."
She would easily disagree with that, but now was not the time to be bigging up another guy's looks. Not when two of her closest friends were glaring at her.
"Well, he's not now, but he was the most famous model in the world when we were 14."
"What's his last name?"
"Agreste."
A smash echoed around the room as Luka's hand slipped forward and knocked everything from his kitchen breakfast bar into the sink, the loud clatter causing Marinette to close her eyes and Chat Noir to shout 'opa!'
"Adrien…Agreste? That's Adrien Agreste?" Luka said, almost as if he was testing the words and how they sounded. "Adrien…Agreste! The perfume guy!"
Slightly offensive, but not exactly wrong. She watched as Luka took his phone from his pocket and began tapping around on it.
"Adrien Agreste," he said again, shaking his head and letting a snort out of his nose. "Of course he's Adrien fucking Agreste. Who else would turn up now?" he began to mumble.
Marinette was unable to clearly hear what he was talking about, yet the constant thumb movements on his phone screen made her sure he was scrolling.
With each swipe of his finger, his laugh grew more and more manic. "Move on, Marinette… Oh, yes! Move on, Marinette, alright. Move on to…" He started laughing again, his head continuing to shake side to side.
Marinette stood from her seat and headed towards the doorway. She stopped at the end of the breakfast bar, Luka still laughing and looking at his phone, something he would be studying for the rest of the night.
She swiped a carton of food, before grabbing her bags and leaving the apartment, Luka's laughed being silenced by the wooden door closing solidly.
Letting herself into her own apartment, she headed straight for the kitchen and for a fork, deciding tonight it would be fine to eat straight from the carton.
"So, how about that game of Dobble?" she said, turning to Chat Noir with a hopeful grin.
He purred softly, his emerald eyes gleaming with amusement. He'd followed her home like a faithful kitten, and she was grateful he'd come back to her side.
She found the cards and settled on the sofa, carton of takeout and fork in hand. However, she hadn't anticipated that her evening would be soundtracked by the faint echoes of Luka's laughter in her mind—or was that sound coming through the neighbouring apartment walls?
Marinette's heart sank. Was Luka really laughing at her? Was it truly so impossible to believe she could be friends with an ex-supermodel?