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lycorogue · 6 months ago

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Latest Story: I Think I Like You (Maybe More Than I Should)

For @mostlovedgirl-writes

A companion story for her work Ha! You Think That’s Embarrassing?

MLG, I warned you that you sparked something! What's worse is that I had this story done on May 14th, and it just kept me this long to sort out what to title the darn thing! 😅[smile with sweat emoji]

The Aged-Up AU that MLG created for her MariChat May ficlet was just too enticing for me to leave alone, so, naturally, I nearly quintupled her story as I retold the same tale but from Adrien's POV.

Why do stories keep running away from me like this!?

I want to send so many extra kudos and just general love MLG's way. I barely wrote anything the past two years. Because of MLG, I have now written my SECOND 7000+ word story in a month (the 1st story wasn't due to MLG, but still...)!

Also, I had I Think I Like You by The Band CAMINO on a constant loop while writing this story (which is how I finally landed on a title). So, if you want some mood music, I'd suggest using that.

Summary: Adrien is intrigued by one of the junior designers at his father's company. Maybe more intrigued than a few passing interactions with Marinette would warrant. At least, that's what Plagg jokes when Adrien notices Marinette on an abysmal date and decides to intervene... as Chat Noir. **An AU where Adrien and Marinette (as their civilian selves) never met as teens** Rating: General Audience (does contain the word "shit" once) Word Count: 7,974 Estimated Read Time: 40min Status: completed one-shot Continue reading below, or find this story over on AO3, on FFN, or on DA.

I Think I Like You (Maybe More Than I Should)

Adrien's brain began fogging over. He knew he was the face of the Gabriel brand, but did his father truly need him to sit in on every partnership meeting? He was little more than a fancy doll paraded out to lock in a new deal. Especially when he wasn't allowed to add any actual input.

Just smile. Say some pleasantries about wanting to work with them. Talk up the brand. Look pretty and professional.

It was a relief to see Nathalie stand up. It was Adrien's signal that his part of the meeting was finally over. He stood up as well, shook hands with the shoe execs that Gabriel was partnering with for the fall line, and practically sprinted out of the door as Nathalie passed out the contracts for the execs to sign.

He should have known better than to exit the room backwards so he could get in one last wave and thank you to their guests. In fairness, though, he didn't expect the hall to have traffic.

“Whoa!” The woman Adrien rudely collided into cried out as she flailed to try to catch her balance.

With his Chat-Noir-trained reflexes, Adrien swung his arm out to catch the woman around the waist. He gently tugged her back up onto her feet, but he didn't calculate her already throwing herself back into balance. She tilted the opposite direction, and Adrien ended up dipping her; his other hand supporting her shoulders – and her hands reflexively grabbing onto his – as her momentum finally stopped.

“Easy there!” He nervously laughed. Of course, he would collide with one of his father's employees as he tried to escape one of his father's meetings. He was sure he'd never hear the end of this.

“A-Adrien?” The woman squeaked in a panic. “I-I mean, Mr. Agreste?”

Her large eyes shined like blue zircon gemstones. Her strawberry-pink lips were partially parted in shock. Her raven hair dangled like a curtain behind her as Adrien held her in the dip. She was adorable. She also looked so familiar to him. Those eyes, in particular.

Agreste! Wake up! Realizing that his father's employee was still leaning awkwardly against his arm, Adrien cleared his throat and lifted the woman back onto her feet. He held her elbows to help steady her. Once he was confident that she wasn't going to fall, he took a step back and hoped his blush wasn't as visible as it felt as it burnt his cheeks.

“Adrien's fine. I'm not really into formalities, if I'm honest. Are you okay? Sorry about colliding into you like that.”

“N-no! That's alright. I'm fine. I should have been paying attention as well.”

Now that they weren't inches from each other, the woman started to shrink into herself. She couldn't keep eye contact with him and fidgeted. Her foot rubbed the back of the opposite leg and her arms flailed about as she talked. Seeing her so nervous definitely brought about a familiarity, and a name bobbed to the surface of Adrien's memory.

“Marinette, right? You're one of the junior designers?”

She squeaked with a start. “You-you know who I am?”

Adrien laughed. “Well, yeah. You fitted me for a few outfits for the spring line, didn't you?”

Marinette blushed. “Mm-hmm. The casual evening wear line.”

“That's the one!” Adrien snapped with acknowledgment. “Were any of those pieces yours?”

“Mine?” Marinette flailed her hands in front of her again. “No! I'm not nearly– I mean, my work isn't quite– I'm not ready for that. I-I did help with the color selection though.”

“Well, that's quite the accomplishment in and of itself. I think those were some of the most fun outfits I've worn in a while, and it was largely due to how bright the colors were. Really shook up all of those bland whites and blacks and tans menswear tends to fall into. You know?”

Marinette nodded like she was a freshly bopped bobblehead. Adrien struggled to not laugh at how adorable she was.

“Oh! I'm sorry. I'm holding you up!” Marinette's eyes again flew wide and her blush deepened. “And I need to take these– Oh no! The sketches!” Marinette stared at her hands, suddenly realizing they were empty. The sketches she was carrying before Adrien ran into her were carpeting the floor.

“Here, let me help you with that.” Adrien leaned down to help scoop up the papers, this time keeping an eye on the door to make sure they didn't end up tripping Nathalie and the execs as they left the conference room.

“No, that's alright. I have it.”

“I'm the reason they got scattered all over the floor in the first place. It's no problem. Really.”

As they scrambled to scoop up the papers – Adrien focused on the conference room door and Marinette focused on anything but Adrien – they bonked heads.

“Oof! Sorry. I seem to just keep running into you today.” Adrien sheepishly laughed.

“No-no. That was on me this time.” An awkward, lopsided smile spread across Marinette's lips as she gathered the last of the sketches.

They both stood, and Adrien held out the papers he had picked up. “We really need to find a better way to run into each other. Preferably one where we don't do so literally.”

“I love you,” she swooned. “That!” she quickly corrected. Her blush deepened. “I'd love that. The not running into you part. I mean, no! Not that part. I love running into you. Not literally though. That part. But I don't love running into you. It's not like I purposefully position myself so that I have an excuse to interact with you. That would be weird and stalker-y and I definitely don't do that. I mean why did I even put that out there? Now you think that's exactly what I do, but I swear I don't. I just–”

Adrien softened as he listened to Marinette. There was something about her rambling that was equal parts confusing and endearing. He cocked his head to the side while waiting for her to get to the point.

“You're so nice,” she continued at that same frantic pace. Her papers slid out of her arms due to the uneven pressure she was putting on them. She juggled them a bit as her mouth kept going. “You don't have to be nice. Everyone would probably expect you to not be nice. Not not-nice. I mean, indifferent? But you're not. You're super nice. I mean, you put in the effort to remember my name. Plus, you didn't need to help me with these.” She held up her uneven pile of papers. “And you're standing here listening to me going on-and-on and good grief why am I still talking? I'm holding you up and I really need to get going as well and yet I just can't seem to stop talking. I'm so embarrassing. But you're still here listening to me, because you're so sweet and I just want to spend all night talking to you. And it seems like maybe you'd be willing? So, maybe we could go and grab dinner tonight after work or something?”

Marinette stopped with a gasp as she tried to refill her empty lungs.

Adrien politely chuckled. “You good?”

Marinette's blush quickly drained as the woman went pale as a ghost. Her eyes bugged out and her mouth slacked.

“I did not just do that!”

“Hmm?” Adrien cocked his head. His mind still frantically trying to sort through the word-vomit Marinette just spat up all over him.

She started backing away from him. “Ignore everything I just said. I don't want to date you. Not that I wouldn't date you if you wanted. Actually, no! You wouldn't– I mean I wouldn't– I mean I'm so sorry. My bad. I just remembered that I already have a date with someone else tonight. A very nice date. One that I've been looking forward to. With someone not you. So clearly I'm not waiting to go on a date with you. Because I have a date with someone else. Tonight! Definitely already have a date tonight. Sorry. Gotta go!” Then she sprinted down the hall.

There was a commotion behind Adrien and the conference door opened. Adrien mindlessly stepped out of the way as the execs filed out of the room, followed by Nathalie.

“Adrien?” she asked. “What are you still doing here? Something wrong?”

Adrien didn't register Nathalie talking to him. He looked through her and down the hall where Marinette had sprinted. His mind finally sorting through what happened.

“Did she just ask me out?”

“Huh? Who? Who asked you out?” Nathalie looked over her shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry. Never mind. It's nothing.”

Nathalie frowned. “I have to escort our guests out, but we'll talk about this later. You know how your father feels about you dating.”

Adrien waved Nathalie off and walked in the direction Marinette had sprinted.

The woman was quick! Adrien couldn't have lagged that far behind, but he couldn't find her anywhere. He couldn't even determine which office she was aiming for.

He tried looking for her office. Turned out that she was still too entry-level to have her own. With some effort – it was hard trying to bluff his way around the “why do you need Marinette?” question – he managed to sort out where her work desk was. She wasn't there either.

“What's the big deal with this girl?” Plagg poked his head out from behind Adrien's blazer. “Can't you just wait until the next time you just naturally see each other?”

Adrien scanned the hall to make sure they were alone. “Plagg,” he hissed, “You know you can't come out of hiding while I'm not in my office at work! It's too easy for you to get caught.”

“Pfft. We're fine. Believe me. I take way more notice of who's around us than you seem to, Mr. Literally-runs-into-somebody-twice.”

Adrien simply shook his head at his kwami.

“But, seriously. Don't you have anything better to do than try to track her down?”

“Probably, but I don't care. I need to talk to her again.”

“Why?”

Adrien stopped.

“I... don't really know. She intrigues me, and I guess I do kind of want to take her up on that date invite. Just so I can get to learn more about her. And she seemed so nervous around me. I need to check in with her. Make sure she's okay and that the two of us are good.”

“I'm sure that's all this is.” Plagg cocked an eyebrow before zipping back into hiding.

Adrien heaved his exasperation with Plagg's interrogation before continuing down the hallway. Maybe if he grabbed a treat from the breakroom to appease his kwami Plagg wouldn't tease him further.

“Okay, I'll meet you at Bastian's tonight at eight.”

Ladybug?

Adrien nearly sprinted towards the dominant voice. When he popped his head through the breakroom door, however, he instead spotted the same loose, medium-length, raven hair that had draped down his arm nearly an hour before. After all of her stammering around him, Adrien didn't recognize Marinette's more confident tone as hers.

She had both hands firmly planted on a table, her back towards the door. A thirty-something-year-old man with wire-rimmed glasses not properly shaped for his round face, a god-awful pencil mustache, and mousy-brown hair slicked back with far too much product sat across from Marinette. The man's basic white button-down shirt wasn't even properly ironed. Adrien was clear across the room and he could still see the wrinkles lining the man's sleeves. The man's tie was also a basic black and horribly dated. Adrien wondered if he had bought it for a school dance as a teen and just never replaced it.

“My reservation is actually for 7:30.” The man shrugged. “I prefer to not eat too late into the evening. I get heartburn then.”

“Okay. Fine.” Marinette's shoulders slumped a little.

“And don't forget to dress up nice. None of–” The man gestured to Marinette's lovely pastel pink capped-sleeve blouse and flowy cement-gray knee-length skirt adorned with cherry blossoms. “–this. I want Date Night not Office Space.”

Adrien scrunched up his nose in disgust. “Well, yeah. Of course.” Marinette backed away from the table and rubbed her elbow nervously.

With a huff, Adrien stormed away from the breakroom.

Seriously? Him? What does Marinette even see in him?

“I didn't even realize Marinette had a thing for Jules.”

Adrien pivoted at the mention of Marinette. A man and woman walked out of the breakroom, gossiping with each other.

“Have they even talked to each other before today?”

“If they have, then Marinette's a miracle worker for getting a word in edge-wise against the Jabberwocky.”

“She's pretty meek. Maybe she prefers being talked at.”

“Well, here's hoping she's also a masochist, because those are the only ones who could possibly enjoy the mental agony of interacting with that guy.”

The two workers laughed as they approached Adrien.

“Oh!” The female worker jumped slightly upon noticing him. “Mr. Agreste. What a pleasure to see you. What are you doing on the third floor? Something we can assist with?”

“No. Sorry.” Adrien put on his patented Model Smile(TM) as he scratched the back of his head. “I was just getting my steps in.” He held up his wrist to show off his fancy watch. It didn't register his steps, but he hoped it looked high-tech enough that they wouldn't notice. “I should probably head back to my office, though. Carry on.”

With a wave, he made a bee-line back to his office on the twelfth floor.

“Huh. I would not have guessed that guy was Marinette's type.” Plagg floated back out from Adrien's blazer and drifted over to the mini-fridge Adrien had put into his office.

Adrien plopped into a plush club chair he kept in the corner of the room. “Me neither. What does she see in him? For someone so fashion-forward and quirky and adorable–?”

“Maybe this is a case of opposites attract?”

“He sounded so rude towards her, didn't he? And then those employees joking about his endless talking and how painful it is to just interact with him? Does Marinette see something in him that no one else does?”

“Marinette seemed to be a bit of a motor-mouth herself.”

“Yeah, but hers was different.”

“How so?”

“It just... was. Okay?”

Plagg shrugged and gobbled down a large slice of Camembert. “Ah, to be a fly on the wall during that date.” He laughed. “If that woman could handle the– what did those guys call him? Jabberwocky? I like that. If Marinette could slay the Jabberwocky I wish I could be there to see that. Oh! Or the two of them just rambling at each other; holding two different conversations? Either way, get me the popcorn.”

“I am curious. Maybe it isn't as bad as it seemed in the few seconds that I caught. Their interactions, I mean.”

“If you say so.”

“Yeah. I'm sure there's something there that we don't know. Marinette wouldn't go on a date as awful as I'm thinking.”

“How could you know that? You barely know the girl.”

“That is true.” Adrien hung his head in his hands. Why was he even so fixated on this? Plagg was right. He only really knew Marinette in passing. It was none of his business. Even if it was a bad date, so what? Everyone has had terrible dates that they've suffered through.

Ones that they wished they could pull a rip-cord on.

That maybe they didn't have an escape plan for, but wished they did.

Marinette's gemstone eyes flitted into Adrien's mind.

He whipped out his phone and looked up the number for Bastian's.

“Hello? Yes. This is Adrien Agreste. Yes, that Adrien Agreste. I was wondering if you had an opening for a solo-diner tonight? I was hoping for around 7:20? Oh, no. A VIP table isn't necessary at all. Public dining is perfect. Fantastic. See you then. Thank you.”

Adrien turned from Plagg's knowing look. “What?” he asked his kwami, “I heard that Bastian's has a delicious salmon risotto.”

--------------

The quality of the salmon risotto was highly exaggerated.

It wasn't bad. It was a textbook execution of the dish, worthy of high marks at any culinary school. The flavoring was just a bit bland despite the chef clearly being a bit heavy-handed with the butter.

That didn't really matter though. Adrien wasn't particularly hungry anyway.

His stomach felt heavy and the back of his brain was itchy. He had no clue what he was doing there. The whole thing was insane.

It hit him all at once the moment he caught a glimpse of Marinette's raven hair coming around the corner behind the hostess. He realized that he had no excuse to be at this mid-grade (at best) restaurant. Not the same one that she just-so-happened to have a reservation for. And not at the same time as the aforementioned reservation. Definitely not while also eating alone!

I can't let her catch me here!

Adrien quickly pivoted to a different seat at his table so his back was towards her. As discretely as possible, he slid his meal over to his new spot. He then shrugged his sweater a little higher up the back of his neck and shagged his hair slightly. Similar to how he used to wear it when he was a teen. With any luck, she wouldn't recognize him.

He felt Plagg snake his way around his back and down to Adrien's hip. Plagg then phased his head through the sweater. “Plagg!” Adrien hissed under his breath.

“Calm down,” Plagg whispered back. “No one looks at someone else's hips. I just want to see this disaster.”

“No,” Adrien intoned, trying to not move his lips too much and get caught talking to 'himself'. “We're not spying on Marinette and her date. I'm sure it will be fine.” He poked some more at his risotto and wondered how bad it would look if he just downed it as fast as possible so he could escape.

“You're no fun,” Plagg huffed, but he didn't bother to retreat into the sweater.

Despite himself, as Adrien worked his way through his dinner, he attuned his ears to Marinette's table. His hearing wasn't as keen as it would have been if he was Chat Noir, but, over the years, he had trained his senses to be a bit more sensitive than usual, even out of costume.

Training his sense of touch was probably a poor decision, though. Especially with how many hands roam his body between fittings and shoots and quick-changes....

It seemed to work in his favor that night though. The entire meal, he barely heard Marinette say five words – outside of ordering her steak with the waiter – but Adrien could not get away from her date's dreary voice. Marinette's coworkers were right, however, and the woman was always more on the meek, non-confrontational side anyway. It was possible that she was somehow enjoying the endless conversation. Except, Adrien's sort of sixth sense – due to his heightened touch sensitivity – made him acutely aware of Marinette's discomfort.

Well, it was either the sixth sense thing or Plagg's wincing at Adrien's hip.

Despite warnings about cats and curiosity, Adrien couldn't help himself. He nudged his way around the table again. Shimmying closer and closer to his original chair before smoothly shifting to it and pushing his other chair back into place. Then he slid his half-eaten bowl back in front of him. Then the glass of wine.

He refused to keep going so he was full-on facing Marinette, but he could at least keep an eye on her in his peripheral now. He didn't like what he saw.

Her back was tight and tall. Her shoulders raised towards her ears. Her upper arms were flexed as she fidgeted with something under the table. A miasma of irritation seemed to radiate from her, and Adrien wondered if she was going to literally try to slay the Jabberwocky. Did this restaurant somehow have vorpal knives?

Adrien desperately wanted to just intervene. He wasn't sure at this point if doing so would be rescuing Marinette from her date or the other way around.

“And that was how my third marriage ended,” Jules monotoned across from Marinette.

How is that guy so loud? I get the masochism comment now, Adrien thought.

As Marinette filled her side of the conversation with yet another sip of water she started to take in the restaurant around her. In a flash, Adrien was laser-focused on the last bites of his risotto.

Please, don't let her see me, he mentally chanted, subtly shifting his head so he was turned away from her. If she catches me here I'm done for!

Right. He had no plausible reason to be at the same restaurant as her at the same time as her and right after she told him she had a date tonight. He'd be outed as a stalker or something! His father would throw him into lock-down if that ever got out! And, considering how recognizable he was, there was no way the other patrons wouldn't videotape him interrupting a woman's date and probably getting called an obsessive creep by that same woman.

Marinette had walked back – well, black-hole-absorbed back – her date invite to Adrien specifically so she could still come here with Jules. She must have had a reason to prefer the Jabberwocky's company. Maybe Adrien somehow offended her when they collided earlier. Maybe she had gotten in trouble after being late with those sketches. Maybe she didn't want anything to do with Adrien Agreste anymore. Wouldn't be a good look to ride in and try to White Knight for Marinette then. He didn't want to seem possessive of her.

His risotto finally done, he gently reached out to a passing waiter and requested the check.

“This is great,” Plagg whispered from his watch party at Adrien's hip still. “She's just gazing out the window now; not even looking at the guy. And he's still talking! I think he just likes the sound of his own voice.”

“That's hard to imagine,” Adrien intoned.

He thanked the waiter for the check, and quickly handed him in his payment. After confirming that the waiter was also assisting Marinette's table, Adrien included a nearly fifty-percent tip in hopes that it would help compensate for having to deal with Marinette's date. Meal consumed and paid for, Adrien placed his napkin on the table and stood to leave.

“Aww.” Plagg snaked back around to Adrien's chest just under his cable-knit sweater. “The train wreck isn't over yet.”

“Oh, yes it is.”

“Adrien?” Plagg warned. Adrien quickly shushed him.

He walked past Marinette's table as fast as possible while still looking nonchalant. He again prayed that she wouldn't notice him there.

“So, last year I went snorkeling with...”

Adrien struggled to not roll his eyes and scream at Jules to just shut up already as he caught the man still droning on at poor Marinette.

Just look forward. Don't react. Get out of here before she notices you! he ordered himself.

Adrien got to the front of the restaurant with no incident. He heaved a relieved sigh, thanked the wait staff and the hostess, and headed out the door. Fighting against his desire to full-tilt sprint, he casually followed the sidewalk along the front of the building. As soon as he reached the small alley between the restaurant and the neighboring building, however, he dashed into its welcoming shadows.

“Adrien?” Plagg asked with a challenging tone, “What are you planning? Nothing stupid, I hope.”

“Oh. It most definitely is. Plagg-”

“Adrien! Don't! You can't use your powers for personal gain, remember?” Plagg rattled off in a panic.

“What personal gain? Chat Noir is a hero, isn't he? And I'm rescuing Marinette. It's all on the up-and-up.”

“Adrien!”

“Plagg, claws out!”

“Adrien, no!” Plagg got sucked into Adrien's ring before he could fight his holder any further. In an instant, Chat Noir stood where Adrien was a moment before.

“Now, let's go rescue a citizen.”

Chat Noir puffed out his chest and casually walked back into Bastian's. He gave the hostess a salute as he walked past her. “Not dining today,” he called over his shoulder, “Just need to do a quick pop-in. Don't mind me.”

As he passed by the tables within the dining room the patrons all started to mutter among themselves about him.

“No need to panic,” he reassured them. “Paris is safe. Go back to your meals.”

It was too late. The restaurant was already abuzz and everyone was too focused on him to even think about their food anymore.

The only one unfazed by Chat Noir's presence was none other than Marinette's lout of a date.

Marinette, on the other hand, stared up at Chat Noir with those shining blue zircon eyes that had captured him earlier that day.

“Hello, Miss,” Chat Noir greeted. He rested one hand on the back of Marinette's chair, and the other he balled up before resting it on his hip. It took imagining Ladybug's disappointed scowl to keep him from using his balled fist to punch out Marinette's date.

“Buh-blah-uh?” Marinette blabbered in shock.

Chat Noir struggled to not smirk at how cute even Marinette blue-screening was. “Pardon my rudeness, but could I borrow you for a moment? Won't take but a sec.” He then winked at her to let her know that he understood her situation; he was there as her out.

Clearly still blue-screened, Marinette slowly pivoted her head back towards her date. Jules did not look impressed that a superhero was currently standing at their table.

“Excuse me,” Jules grunted, “but you're interrupting our date.”

Marinette slowly pivoted her head back towards Chat Noir, awaiting his response.

Chat Noir turned to regard the boorish man. It was so ironic to Chat Noir that this other man was complaining about interrupting dates. Him! He was the one who was interrupting so many dates within that restaurant with his loud droning. Let alone his prevention of Adrien's date with Marinette that night. Besides, how did he not notice that Marinette was desperate for someone to interrupt the date?

Taking a long, soothing breath, Chat Noir stood straight, his hand no longer resting on Marinette's chair. Once again breaking out his Model Smile(TM), Chat Noir relaxed his body in an attempt to disarm.

“Oh, right,” he said with a thick layer of honey in his voice. “Sorry about that. Interrupting a date is so annoying. I totally get that.”

Like a skilled magician, Chat Noir distracted from his hands with his winning smile. Meanwhile, his left hand scooped up Marinette's right.

“Let me just get out of your way,” Chat Noir finished with a coo. In a flash, he tugged on Marinette's hand, spinning her out of her chair and into his arms. After catching her in his arms earlier, it was a welcome return to feel her weight against him again.

Marinette was still stun-locked. Her only acknowledgment of what just happened was the rosy coloring flooding her cheeks.

Shifting his arm so it was draped around Marinette's shoulder, he confirmed that she had her purse on her. Chat Noir then gave Marinette's former date a two-finger salute before escorting Marinette out of the restaurant. Once they were outside, he detached his stick from his back. In one, smooth, solid motion, he scooped Marinette up into a bridal carry while extending his stick to vault up onto the nearest roof.

Upon landing, he shifted her slightly so he could reattach his weapon to his back before again lifting her into a bridal carry. A moment later, they were off. He wasn't sure where he was going. He just let his feet lead him. All he knew was that he couldn't be anywhere near that restaurant or that oaf of a date.

With the same ease as a leisurely jog around a track, Chat Noir ran across the rooftops of Paris with Marinette in his arms. He leapt across the gaps between buildings as if he was hopping over puddles to avoid getting his shoes wet. He felt so free and the weight of Marinette in his arms renewed his energy.

As they neared the Seine, Chat Noir stopped within a rooftop garden. It was a gorgeous view, between the flowers, the lights reflecting off the river, and a cozy-looking garden bench tucked within the flora.

Chat Noir gently rested Marinette back on her feet, holding her hands to support her while she regained her bearings.

“You okay, Miss?”

“Uh...” She blinked at him. Her face shifted between confusion, relief, shock, and frustration as if those emotions were on shuffle play. She finally settled on stupefied. “I'm sorry. What just happened?”

She was too cute. Chat Noir couldn't help himself. He chuckled. “I think I just rescued you from the world's worst date.”

Marinette cringed and moaned in embarrassment. “Believe it or not, I've had worse.”

She circled around Chat Noir, studying him. It unnerved him slightly, but he tried to not let it show. He reminded himself that there was no way that she'd know that he was Adrien Agreste.

“But why me?” she asked. “You don't even know me.”

Chat Noir pursed his lips. He was not expecting that question. Why wasn't he expecting that question?

“Let's just say–” his mind raced for a suitable answer. He rocked back and forth on his heels. “–I know a guy who asked me for a favor.”

Ha! Perfect! Vague but plausible.

Marinette's face fell and her shoulders slacked. “Oh, my gosh,” she whispered, more to herself than to Chat Noir. “You know Adrien Agreste.” Her eyes darted up to meet Chat Noir's. “He contacted you somehow, didn't he?”

Shit!

Marinette must have spotted Adrien in the restaurant after all. He was never going to live this down! With any luck – of which he was sure he had virtually none – his mask would at least hide the blush burning his cheeks. He broke eye contact with Marinette and scratched the back of his neck nervously. “What makes you think that?”

With a groan, Marinette fell onto the bench nestled between the flower boxes. She buried her face in her hands, muttering “no, no, no, no” into her palms. She then let out another whimpering groan.

“Hey. Are... you okay?” Chat Noir sat beside her. With a moment of hesitation, nervous that he was the source of her woes, he tentatively placed a supportive hand on her shoulder.

“I can't believe Adrien saw me on that awful date.”

Oh, good. He was the source of her woes. Excellent.

Chat Noir choked down his own whimpering groan.

“I'm so embarrassed,” Marinette continued.

Chat Noir tilted his head in confusion. Why was Marinette embarrassed? She caught her boss's son basically stalking her. He'd understand her being angry or feeling violated, but embarrassed?

“I feel like I'm missing something. So, what's the story?”

“It's a long one,” Marinette grumbled. She dropped her hands to her lap and rested her head against the back of the bench, gazing up at the starless sky.

Chat Noir smirked. He'd love a long story from Marinette.

“I'm all ears.” He willed the false cat ears atop his head to twitch and wiggle.

Marinette laughed. It was the loveliest sound Chat Noir could recall hearing. He melted a little as he settled in next to her, readying himself for Story Time.

She took a deep breath to steel herself and heaved out a heavy sigh. “There's this guy at work – tall, blond, sweet, and so handsome I melt into the floor every time I see him.”

Chat Noir hoped Marinette didn't hear him gulp his heart back into his chest.

“He even smells amazing,” she whined with yearning.

Chat Noir fought the urge to sniff himself that very instant, and the follow-up urge to wiggle closer to Marinette so she could perchance catch a whiff. Which one of them was downwind? Why wasn't there any wind right now?

Clearing his throat slightly, Chat Noir teased, “Okay, so you know Adrien from work.” He gestured as if offering the right of way to Marinette. “Go on.”

Marinette glared up at him with a little pout. It was adorable, but still sent a chill down Chat Noir's spine. It felt familiar somehow. As if he'd faced That Look at least a dozen times before.

“I never said it was Adrien.”

Oh. This is going to be fun, Chat Noir thought as he fought the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He dramatically crossed one leg over the other, then rested his chin in his hand. His other hand casually draped across his thigh. With a wisp in his voice, Chat Noir asked, “Oh? So, who is mister tall, fair, and handsome?”

Marinette flushed with embarrassment. She whipped away from Chat Noir's playful gaze, instead focusing on her thumbnails as she picked at them. “It doesn't matter!”

“Mm-hmm,” Chat Noir challenged.

Marinette shifted in her seat, rolling her shoulders before again gazing up at the sky. “Anyway, this guy from work, I've...” She cautiously glanced back over at Chat Noir as she bit down on her thumbnail.

He straightened, relaxing both hands to seem more sincere. The shift in posture appeared to have put Marinette more at ease. She stopped biting on her nail, lowering her hand back to her lap.

“I've had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on him for the longest time.” She slammed the back of her head against the back of the bench. She screwed her eyes shut and whimpered a little before continuing. “I ran into him in the hall earlier today–”

Literally, and the other way around, Chat Noir thought with an embarrassed chuckle.

“–and in a fit of complete insanity I asked him out.”

A warm wave washed over Chat Noir. The confirmation that she had meant to extend the invitation made his heart skip in a way he wasn't expecting.

“Doesn't sound so bad.” Chat Noir hoped his glee didn't spill over into his voice. He had to remain neutral and detached from the situation. Neutral and Detached. Neutral. And. Detached.

“But then I realized what I had done,” she continued, “I got all flustered and started babbling, said, 'Sorry, my bad. I just remembered that I have a date with someone else tonight,' and ran away.” She glanced back over at Chat Noir and gestured as if to say, “ta-da! I'm an idiot!”

Chat Noir bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from laughing. It really was a ridiculous situation, now that Marinette laid it out so plainly. How could she be so cute and yet so insecure?

“And why did you do that?”

“Because,” she whined, “he's Adrien Agreste!” She threw her hands out, gesturing to the sky in desperation. “Not only is he France's top model and so far out of my league that I can't even see his league without a telescope, but also–” She violently shook her hands out in front of her, as if she were mentally shaking sense into herself. “He's my boss's son! I can't even begin to fathom how inappropriate asking him out like that was.” She screamed out her embarrassment before hiding behind her hands again. “I panicked and ran,” she finished softly.

Chat Noir wanted to pull her in for a hug so bad. The poor thing! He was right. She had meant to ask him out, and just revoked the offer because she got nervous.

How on Earth did that Jules guy get involved then?

“So,” Chat Noir drew out the word as he tried to sort out a non-judgmental way to ask, “after asking out the guy you wanted to go out with, how did you end up on a date with that other guy?”

“Ugh, it's so embarrassing.” Her chest heaved in mock sobs. “I was still panicking and wasn't thinking straight, and I heard that guy – I think he's from accounting or something – say that his date for tonight had fallen through.”

Gee, I wonder why.... Chat Noir mentally rolled his eyes.

“I didn't want Adrien to think that I had lied to him about having a date already–”

“Which you had,” Chat Noir teasingly pointed out.

“–so I asked him out. Right there in the breakroom. In front of all of my coworkers!”

Chat Noir pursed his lips as he choked down a laugh. When that wasn't enough he clapped a hand over his mouth to try to better hide his amusement. Now was not the time to laugh about how unhinged the whole situation was. That would be the last thing Marinette would need when she was already having a rough time with it.

Marinette again cradled her head in her hands. “You can go ahead and laugh. I deserve it. I'm such a loser.”

Okay. Definitely not the time to laugh.

“Nah, you're not a loser.” He gently elbowed her to try to catch her attention. “Delightfully awkward, but not a loser.”

“I'm going to have to quit my job and move to America, and start designing ready-to-wear for a department store,” she moaned into her hands.

Chat Noir knew that very sentiment painfully well. “A valid career path, but why are you moving an ocean away?”

Marinette sunk further onto the bench, bending nearly in half as she hid within her hands. “I'll never be able to show my face at Gabriel or any other fashion house in Paris again.”

“I don't think it's as bad as all that. Sure, you had one embarrassing day at work, but who hasn't?”

Marinette scoffed.

“Even Adrien has embarrassed himself in public,” Chat Noir ventured.

Marinette stilled for a heartbeat. Slowly, she sat up a little straighter and peeked out from behind her hands. “Really? But he's so perfect.”

“Pfft. Hardly!” Chat Noir dismissively waved off the very idea. He then draped an arm along the back of the bench and recrossed his legs.

Marinette studied him. Those zircon eyes flickered between pleading to be reassured and questioning if Chat Noir was simply jealous of Adrien.

The woman had been through the wringer that day, and had already suffered enough simply by going on a date with the Jabberwocky. Chat Noir wasn't sure why, but he trusted that Marinette would never weaponize someone else's embarrassment. It was time to break out the big guns.

Chat Noir nonchalantly shrugged. “His first modeling job after lycée, he had a horrible cold. Someone offered him one of those vitamin-C tablets that you're supposed to dissolve in a cup of hot water before drinking. Oblivious kid that he was, he put the tablet in his mouth and drank a cup of warm water.”

He shuddered remembering the next part. The vile taste returned to his mouth through recollection alone.

Marinette's eyes widened. Her mouth formed into an astonished 'o' and she slowly covered her silent gasp with her hand. She was getting ahead of his story.

Chat Noir nodded that she was on the right track. “The tablet started dissolving in his mouth and foaming over everything. It got all over his clothes; the furniture; the floor. It was like he had rabies! Everyone started laughing and calling him 'Atomic Blond'. He was so embarrassed that he vowed to move to New Zealand and become a sheep herder.”

“Oh, no!” Marinette laughed; breathy, secondhand-embarrassed, sympathetic laughs. Chat Noir could practically hear her thinking 'poor thing'. “How have I not heard that story before?”

Chat Noir shrugged. “His dad worked his PR magic and covered it up.”

More like Nathalie worked her magic, but to-may-to to-mah-to.

Marinette arched an eyebrow. “How do you know about it?”

“Sorry. That's a trade secret.” He pressed a finger to his lips and winked.

Marinette sighed. Getting off the bench, she gently stroked the flower petals as she passed by them. She wove her way through the lush garden and wandered over to the railing lining the roof. With a deep breath, she took in their gorgeous city. Her shoulders were relaxed. Her one foot was hooked around her other ankle, but she wasn't fidgety. She was the most calm and at peace that Chat Noir remembered ever seeing her.

“Thank you, Chat Noir.” She turned back towards him and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear. “I'm glad I won't have to move to another continent.”

Chat Noir joined her by the railing. “Decided to stay?”

Marinette puffed out her chest and stood tall. “If Adrien can still show his face at work after a day like that, then so can I.” A breath later, she puckered her lips and her bravado washed away. “I'll just make sure to stay in the basement where he'll never see me again.”

Chat Noir knew he definitely couldn't allow that to happen.

[break]

Their evening was over too soon. It wasn't the date Adrien pictured for the 2.5 seconds he had to process before Marinette had revoked her offer, but it was still a mostly-lovely evening with the intriguing woman. As Adrien got ready for bed, he already knew it was going to be a struggle to get his mind to stop thinking about Marinette long enough to fall asleep.

That was, at least, until he caught the evening news. Amateur photos and videos of Chat Noir in Bastian's confronting a patron and spiriting a citizen away flooded his TV.

“Oh, no!”

“And this is why we don't use our powers for personal gain,” Plagg said as he floated by, not prepared to give more of a lecture than that single sentence.

Adrien faceplanted into his pillows and screamed. “Ladybug is going to kill me!”

“There's always sheep herding in New Zealand.”

“Not. Helpful. Plagg.”

“Didn't realize you were expecting helpful,” Plagg teased.

Somehow, Plagg's snarkiness did help. Adrien chuckled.

“Do you think I at least helped Marinette tonight, Plagg?”

“Maybe.”

“Is it weird that I almost wish I had told her the vitamin-C story as Adrien? Have a real bonding moment between us? Maybe she'd be less nervous around me then.”

“I find it hard to believe that she could ever to be nervous around you now anyway, Mr. Atomic Blond.”

“You know, I don't think I'd mind if she called me that.” He chuckled at the thought.

--------------

The tick of the wall clock tormented Adrien as he sat through a seemingly endless morning meeting. He had always hated these meetings, but it was extra agonizing that morning. Marinette was in that very building at that very moment. But she wasn't in that room.

Adrien rapidly tapped his foot while he focused the rest of his energy on keeping the remainder of his body painfully still. He had no recollection of any words that were said for the past twenty minutes. He couldn't describe a single slide shown explaining the company's growth.

He needed out of this conference room. He was going feral.

Finally, the meeting broke, and Adrien was free.

He didn't bother with the elevator. He couldn't be trapped somewhere again. Besides, he could move faster on the stairs. Especially when he only took every third step and swung himself around each landing (saving him another 5 steps or so per floor).

He bee-lined it to Marinette's work desk. Just like the day before, she wasn't there. Adrien began wondering if he even had the right desk.

“I'll just make sure to stay in the basement where he'll never see me again.”

Adrien knew where to find Marinette!

He didn't care who caught him this time, he sprinted down the four flights of stairs to the basement. As he exited onto the floor he took a moment to even his quickened breaths. He wasn't sure if they were from the sprint or the anticipation of seeing Marinette again. Either way, he couldn't see Marinette while panting. Like that was the right impression to give!

His breaths once again steady, he checked that his clothes were neat and straight, and his hair was in place.

Perfect.

Now to just oh-so-casually bump (not literally) into Marinette.

The first few rooms he checked were empty. He wondered if maybe Marinette wasn't hiding. Did she take a personal day? She didn't actually move to America, right?

Then he heard muttering within the sample fabrics. His heart fluttered. He had found her.

Her back was again towards the door when he poked his head in. She had an armful of fabrics, and was holding up a sea foam swatch against a pastel teal one, trying to decide which shade to go with.

Adrien leaned casually on the door jamb, hands in his pockets and his ankles crossed.

“Hi. Marinette, right?”

“Gah!” Marinette jumped as she spun around, dropping her fabrics as she pressed herself against the rack of silks behind her.

That didn't go as smoothly as he had planned.

Adrien pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them up non-threateningly. “Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.”

“Didn't you. I mean-I didn't. I mean-you didn't!” She pinched her eyes shut and took a deep breath.

Why was she so cute?

“Oh. That's good.” Why was he dragging out each word?

Come on, Agreste! he berated himself, You know she likes you! Why is this so hard?

It was probably because Adrien had never asked anyone out before. It had always been the other way around. Girls fawning for him. His father dictating who he should date to better improve the brand. That sort of thing.

“Listen, I wanted to ask you–” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. What if Marinette just bolted again and YOLO-asked yet another coworker out simply to avoid Adrien? He needed to take his shot though. He could do this! “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

Please say 'yes'. Please say 'yes.' Please say 'yes'.

Adrien wasn't sure he'd seen Marinette's eyes grow so large before.

“Uh– Bah– Bluh–?”

Adrien smiled. Throwback to when Chat Noir interrupted Marinette's atrocious date. The two of them seemed to have had a lovely evening after she did that stammering. Maybe this was a good-luck omen or something.

“Is that a yes?” he teased.

Marinette snapped her mouth shut and nodded.

Adrien chuckled. “Great! I know this wonderful little café by the river. What time do you get off for lunch?”

“Tw-tw-tw-tw–” Marinette pinched herself. “Twelve-thirty,” she gasped out.

Adrien checked his watch. It was half-past-eleven. He didn't have to wait too much longer. “Perfect. I'll come back for you in an hour.”

Glancing at the floor, he noticed that he again forced Marinette to drop what she was holding. He quickly scooped up the fabrics and passed them over to her. “See you later, Marinette.”

“Mm-hmm,” she intoned as she nodded. She held out her arms to accept the fabrics Adrien had gathered.

Pivoting on his heels, he gave her a quick wave over his shoulder and strode back out of the room, fighting the impulse to skip away.

He climbed every single stair leading up to his twelfth-floor office. He needed to get out the giddy energy, as well as find a way to kill the next sixty minutes. Even with Adrien pausing every couple of floors to do a mini tap-dance routine in the stairwell, he still only killed about eleven minutes.

The next forty-nine minutes were filled with endless twirls in his desk chair, memorizing the café's menu, non-stop ribbing from Plagg, and probably far more cartwheels than a twenty-something-year-old man should be doing in a business suit and within the confines of a corner office.

** Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know if you want me to tag you on any of my writing updates** @discoveringmiraculouswriters

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di-daynamic · 2 years ago

Text

Part 1 of 3

Adrinette April: Day 8

“And the winner of the first prize is. . .” The anchor paused, and everyone in the auditorium collectively held a breath. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

Marinette smoothed her skirt down as she stood up to head to the stage. Her heart burst with excitement. Alya whistled, and her parents and Juleka applauded enthusiastically.

The trophy was heavy in her hand as she held it up to rousing cheers. Two months of mind-bending work now felt absolutely worth it.

“As you all know, the prizes include a cash sum as well as an internship opportunity. . .” The anchor continued. “And we are proud to announce that Mlle. Dupain-Cheng will get the chance to intern at Gabriel!”

Marinette gaped in amazement. She heard the four other winners gasp and mutter in envy. Gabriel was notoriously exclusive with its internship opportunities. Marinette wouldn’t have any trouble getting into an art school after an internship there. She hadn’t even finished lycée. This was something out of a dream.

“Way to go, girl!” Alya laughed, hugging her as she stepped off. “Gabriel! That’s ridiculous!”

“Also a callback to our college days,” Juleka muttered, and then smiled at her. “Congrats, Marinette.”

Marinette couldn’t pretend her mind didn’t jump to Adrien every time Gabriel or the name Agreste was mentioned. A mix of nervousness and excitement caused her stomach to turn as she considered the prospect that she might be seeing Adrien more regularly. Then she shook herself out of it. Adrien had always hated being associated with his father’s company back in college, and there was no indication that that had changed.

“Thanks, Jule,” she said mildly as her parents swept her up.

“We’re so, so proud of you Marinette!” Papa said, beaming.

“Congratulations! Gabriel is such a prestigious posting! You certainly deserve this after all your hard work,” Maman said, taking up her hands.

“Thank you!” She laughed.

“Hey, Mari, I see some people you’ll be wanting to talk to,” Alya said, pointing at the stage. Marinette turned and gasped. Alya was right. There were several CEOs and fashion business and modeling agency representatives.

“Right! I’ll see you later. Come on, Juleka.” She dragged her protesting friend over to the people laughing and chatting by the stage.

“Ah! Mlle. Dupain-Cheng!” Alessandro Lesatz smiled at her, and Marinette just about died on the inside. “Congratulations on your win. I saw your portfolio, and I must say I wish to steal you from the Agrestes.” He noticed Juleka as Marinette blushed and thanked him. “Ah. Your model?”

“Yes,” Marinette nodded, “This is Juleka Couffaine.”

“Luka Couffaine’s sister!” Mlle. Rivera scrutinized the girl. “Well, you do good as a model. Would you like an interview some time?”

As Juleka stammered out a stunned answer, Marinette began to schmooze. She got half a dozen business cards and scores of compliments on her work, and even a few critiques. She hoped she took them all with a grace befitting someone about to intern at the most famous fashion company in the city. A couple actually gave her constructive feedback about something to improve on rather than just derision, which was useful even though disheartening.

“I’m so happy for you Marinette!” Tikki giggled, zooming out of her purse as she climbed up the trapdoor to her room after a celebratory dessert with her parents.

“Did she win? Did she win?” Pollen demanded.

“Right here, Poll,” Marinette smiled at the kwami. “And yes, I did. First prize!”

“Yipppppeeeeee!” Mullo and Kaalki screamed.

“Congratulations, Master Marinette,” Wayzz said sagely. “Didn’t you say an internship was also part of your prize?”

“Not just any internship, an internship at Gabriel!” Tikki said excitedly.

“Oh, this is so exciting!” Xuppu squealed.

“And romantic!” Added Ziggy.

“What? Why is that a big deal?” asked Longg.

“Aren’t in-interm-internships unpaid work?” Sass asked irritably. “It’s unfair and degrading – why are we celebrating this?”

Marinette laughed as several of the kwamis began to explain over one another, over the squeals and the begging for details Tikki was happy to provide. She was used to this chaos now.

She leaned back in her chair, considering her trophy. When would the internship begin? According to the anchor, the winners would receive emails near instantly. And Gabriel Agreste – or Nathalie Sancoeur rather – had always been scarily efficient.

Sure enough, when she clicked on her unread emails, she caught one from the Gabriel company, titled CONGRATULATIONS.

There was a list of instructions and rules after the typical congratulatory message and the attachment of the Non-Disclosure Agreement and Internship Contract she and her parents would have to sign. Marinette read through them carefully. To her immense shock, they said that if she managed to create a piece or a portfolio of pieces in the duration of her internship, whether for school or for competition or – she supposed – one of Jagged’s commissions, they would help and possibly put forth a model of their own and release it as part of the brand, with her name attached!

Marinette was speechless. These were excellent terms for an internship. Then again, the competition she had won was rather prestigious.

She began on Monday, right after lycée.

Nerves began to take over the excitement as Monday approached. Alya greeted her cheerfully after dragging her out of bed as they headed to school. “Internship first day today, huh?” Her friend asked. “Are you nervous?”

“No,” Marinette denied. Alya raised an eyebrow and she relented. “Fine. Maybe a little.” It wasn’t much more than the anxiety always swirling in her stomach – just the feeling of pins and needles, clamminess and a deep sense of dread.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Want to rehearse what you’ll say to Adrien if you run into him?”

“Alya!” Marinette exclaimed, and the girl tossed her head back and laughed. “That was years ago! I’m fine around him now.”

“Just joking, girl,” Alya smirked, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Did you finish the English homework?”

The day seemed to speed by and yet crawl inexorably. Practically before she knew it, she was standing in front of the Gabriel office – a building spanning twenty-two floors.

“ID?” Asked a bored voice.

Marinette jumped. “Er. . .” She started tentatively. “I – I don’t have one.”

The security guard frowned. “You don’t—”

“She’s our new intern,” interrupted someone Marinette knew very well. She turned to see Adrien smiling, walking forward with a purpose he hadn’t had back in college. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng? She should be on the notice given out to you.”

“Y-Yes, Monsieur Agreste,” the guard said, fumbling with papers. “You can go up, Mademoiselle. Please visit the office to get your ID and submit the signed papers and meet your supervisor.”

“Great!” Adrien beamed. “By the way, how is your daughter? Recovered from the flu?”

“Yes, she’s well now, thank you for asking,” The guard replied, clearly put at ease by Adrien’s easy demeanour.

“That’s good,” Adrien said, “Come on, Marinette. I’ll show you to the office.” Thanking the guard, she hurried after him. “Congratulations on the win! I’m glad you’re the one who’s going to work with us.”

“Us?” Marinette interrupted. “Last I heard, you weren’t at all interested in your dad’s company?”

And that had been only three weeks ago, at Luka’s concert. She didn’t see how things could have changed so quickly.

Adrien turned sheepish, ruffling his hair. Marinette pushed down the flutter of her heart at the motion. “Well, two weeks ago the winners of your competition were announced to the industries, so that they could say if and whom they wanted as an intern. And as much as I’m pleased you won and Father actually decided picking an intern was worth it, the lecture I received about deciding my path and focusing on my career now itself wasn’t very fun. He knows we’re friends, see, so he thinks I should be following your example.”

“Sorry about that,” Marinette laughed.

“Helping out in the business side of things made Father decide my modelling engagements are cancelled for the time being, so please, don’t be,” Adrien insisted.

“I remember you really hated modelling,” her voice softened with sympathy. “I’m glad you don’t have to do it anymore.”

Adrien smiled at her, and it was like sunshine. “I am too! It gives me some free time, too. At least business has a fixed number of hours. Modelling doesn’t. I’ll be able to attend Rose’s birthday party after all.”

“Oh, she’ll be so happy!” Marinette exclaimed. “She was hoping that all our old classmates could make it.”

“It’ll be fun to get together,” he agreed, and pressed an arm to hold the elevator. “After you, mademoiselle.”

Marinette giggled as she stepped in. “Such a gentleman.”

He smirked. “Glad my manners haven’t faded since college.” The elevator closed with a ding. Marinette felt a blush rising. She’d imagined various scenarios in college that included this: her and Adrien alone in an elevator. The only thing needed to complete the fantasy was the elevator to get stuck.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Gabriel had higher standards in elevators.

“The office is just to the left,” he stepped out of the elevator, pointing at the sign that listed various locations on the floor, including the office. “M. Ducasse should be there. He’ll probably be the one to do intern orientation.”

“Alright,” Marinette smiled up at him. “Thanks so much, Adrien. I’ll see you at Rose’s party?”

He hesitated, looking for a moment younger like he’d been in college. “I’m – uh, I’m hoping before that?” She could only blink at him, taken aback. “C’mon, Marinette, this place and the business is boring enough. Really boring, if you promise never to tell my father or Nathalie I said that. Having a friend around would be fun. You always make things better.”

Marinette felt heat pool in her cheeks. In an effort to remain nonchalant, she turned away from him, towards the sign, “Well, I’m certainly not opposed to having one of my best friends keep me company in my first internship. I’m sure us running into one another would be complete coincidences.”

Adrien grinned. “See you around, then. I have to go, I’m already late.” With a wave, he strode to the staircase.

Marinette waved back until he was out of sight, sighing in hopeless, unfading love.

“You are Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” M. Ducasse asked as she stepped inside the office.

“Yes, M. Ducasse.” She replied, taking out the documents signed by her and her parents.

“Very well,” he said, comparing her profile to the photo on the ID. “Please hand over the NDA and employment contract, and take the ID card. This will give you access till the fifteenth floor. Your supervisor is Mme. Oppenord. She will decide the days and timings of your internship, as well as discuss other details.”

“Okay. Thank you,” she took the ID card and pinned it to her blouse. “Where can I find Mme. Oppenord?”

“She should be here any minute now,” he responded. “Have a seat. There’s some orange juice in the jug.”

She did so, marveling at the décor and the professional hospitality. Then again, there was a reason Gabriel was the most popular company in the design industry. The receptionist was right; her supervisor arrived within three minutes, and took a seat opposite and briskly introduced herself.

The next half an hour was a discussion regarding the responsibilities, duties, duration and timings of the internship. Marinette would apparently be mostly working in the clothes design and PR departments, which pleased her. She asked if she could help out in jewellery department as well, and was warned that going beyond coffee and typing jobs would perhaps be regarded as rudely overstepping by some, but that she was welcome to try.

“Onto the final matter,” Mme. Oppenord seemed like the type of efficient which got things accomplished in the snap of a fingers and left disorganized messes like Marinette staring after them in awe. “The unusual portion of the contract, if I may say so. You are promised help in any ongoing or future projects, including but not limited to a reasonable amount of resources, publishing, selling, modelling, wardrobe. . .?” She trailed off in a question mark.

“Er, yes,” Marinette answered, not sure what the woman was looking for.

“Very well. Do you have anything ongoing?” She couldn’t read Mme. Oppenord’s tone. Tired of this, or just the methodical need to move on to the next thing?

“Well, Jagged Stone has commissioned a few designs that I’ve only just completed,” she said slowly. “And usually, I post them on my website so my followers can get the ‘scoop’ of sorts – the things that the famous rockstar will probably, you know, start a trend with.” She finished weakly and winced.

“If your name is going to be associated with the Gabriel brand, you will have to make a few modifications to the process,” she commented, furrowing her eyebrows. Marinette bristled at that, but had to concede that she had a point. “And – Jagged Stone is okay with you publicizing his commissions like this?” She asked severely.

Marinette wasn’t sure if Mme. Oppenord actually hoped she was committing a crime. “He’s … known me since I was a child, and hence I think was rather indulgent when it came to contracts. He says it’s my designs, so I can do as I wish.” Jagged had always been like the brash, spoiling uncle to her. There was also the fact that Penny had a soft spot for her.

“Hmm.” That apparently garnered a raised eyebrow. “Very well. Bring me your finished designs – I’m your supervisor, dear, I can assure you I won’t be blabbing or copying,” she added when Marinette opened her mouth in instinctive indignation. She blushed, and the woman continued. “And I’ll see what I can do with regards to modelling and publicizing. I’ll have your contact with Jagged Stone as well, and your usual model—”

“I … don’t really have a contact?” Marinette said sheepishly. “I usually just call Penny.”

“As in Jagged Stone’s personal assistant?” Mme. Oppenord seemed a woman of few reactions, and Marinette wondered what it meant that she was giving so many only in their first meeting.

“Erm. Yes.”

“I suppose you’ll have to be there when I call then. . . And your model?”

“Juleka Couffaine.”

Mme. Oppenord stared at her. “The famous Luka Couffaine’s sister? Jagged Stone’s daughter?”

“. . . That’s the one,” Marinette said feebly. It really was a start to remember how well-connected she was. She certainly hadn’t though much of it back in college.

The older woman shook her head with – again, Marinette couldn’t read her expression. Which was frustrating. As Ladybug, she was used to dealing with akumas by reading their emotions and body language.

She was sent off to work soon enough. She spent the next couple hours brewing coffee and typing and sending e-mails, with one exciting excursion to the wardrobe department to help in an ongoing shoot. Mme. Oppenord told her that when she came on Thursday she would be helping organize the wardrobes used by the designers with the other interns, and that she could eat in the cafeteria before she left.

She sat down with two girls only a couple years older than her called Juliet and Andy, who were very friendly. She’d texted her parents that she would be home by eight-thirty, so she had half an hour before she had to leave. The girls were amazing sources about future schooling: Juliet went to university while Andy pursued jewellery making in a specialized school. Marinette had to consider her own options after lycée, so it was helpful.

“Oh my God,” came a squeal, “Oh, God, look! Everyone, look!”

There were instantly several other screeches and a hushed, “It’s Adrien Agreste!”

Sure enough, the blond was at the door, frowning as he looked around. When he caught her eye, she waved tentatively. His face brightened and he headed straight there.

“Why is he coming here?” Andy asked, voice reaching a previously undiscovered pitch. “Marinette, did you just wave ADRIEN AGRESTE over to our table?”

“You know him?” Juliet asked, sounding impressed but not as slavish as the others. Marinette had barely nodded when Adrien beamed at her, sitting next to Juliet.

“Hi, Marinette! How was your first day of work?”

“Good,” Marinette smiled back at him – it was pretty much impossible not to. Adrien always had a way of making her fluster and smile. “How was your day? As boring as you expected?”

“Pretty much,” he replied, making a face. “Except I had the prospect of seeing you to tide me over.” His eyes sparkled and her face burned. Adrien flirted with everyone, apparently having gained confidence after he entered lycée. Thankfully more lowkey than Chat Noir, though her partner had stopped declaiming his love to her recently.

“What exactly do you do here anyway?” She asked, putting her head on her chin to consider him. “Oh, and this is Juliet and Andy by the way.”

“I remember you helped in the jewellery in my last shoot,” Adrien said in recognition to Andy. She gulped, looking like she was about to faint, and nodded wildly. “Nice to meet you, Juliet.”

“You as well,” Juliet replied politely.

“As for your question,” he turned to Marinette. “I usually just shadow Nathalie, though Father has been coming here to show me the ropes.”

“Gabriel Agreste is outside the mansion?” Andy gasped, dropping her fork. “Here?”

“Right?” Adrien said enthusiastically, clearly not understanding the fangirling. “It’s a miracle! The last time he came out was nearly five years ago, during that fashion show. . . The one where I wore the hat you designed, Marinette.”

“Oh right,” she laughed sheepishly. “The one inspired by Mr. Pigeon.”

“That was inspired by Mr. Pigeon?” Adrien laughed too. “Right, the feather in the hat. Literally,” he winked. She giggled. “My father really did admire your work, especially the signature. I remember he called it ‘masterful’.”

“That’s a feather in the cap of any designer,” Juliet said, smiling, looking between Marinette and Adrien with shrewd eyes.

“Definitely,” Marinette agreed. “I think that competition was around the time when Mr. Ramier was first Akumatized.”

“You … know his actual name?” Adrien blinked in surprise.

“Well. . . The poor man’s been Akumatized enough times,” she joked. “I help him feed the pigeons sometimes.” She felt sorry for the man, as Ladybug and as herself. It was a bit of a joke, but loving pigeons that much to get Akumatized even with the charm she gave out? That was some commitment. Adrien’s face softened, looking at her.

“Nearly seventy, I believe,” Andy laughed.

“Seventy-three,” Both Marinette and Adrien corrected together. They grinned at one another.

“If you’ve already had a Gabriel model,” Juliet gestured to Adrien, “Then doing it again shouldn’t be much of a problem, should it?” Marinette hadn’t known her long, but she was fairly certain that wicked glint in her eye meant nothing good.

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

Marinette cleared her throat. “There was a clause in the internship contract that any ongoing or future projects while I’m interning here will be supported by Gabriel, including but not limited to—”

“Modelling,” he finished.

“Right. And she has one now,” Andy said, nodding. “Mme. Oppenord told you to bring your sketches in next time you’re here for deciding the model and everything?” She and Juliet exchanged a glance and then looked at Adrien. . . expectantly?

“I can do the modelling for you,” Adrien offered instantly.

“What?” Marinette gaped unflatteringly at him. “Adrien – you hate modelling! You really don’t need to do something like this for me!”

“No, really, it’s no problem. I’ll talk to my father about it. He knows we’re friends. He’ll probably be glad I want to model at all. In fact, he may thank you on bended knee,” he said, smiling crookedly.

“Well, that’ll be the day,” Marinette joked. “And a sight worth seeing. But you don’t have to.” She said again, feeling speechless at how unhesitatingly he offered to do something he hated for her sake.

“I’m happy to,” he replied. “Mme. Oppenord’s your supervisor? I’ll get Nathalie to tell her—” his phone rang. “Speaking of which. I have to go. I’ll see you?” He added hopefully.

Marinette wasn’t sure why he wanted to, but she would never object to seeing Adrien. If she did, the people around her ought to check for Akumatization or something of the sort. “Of course.”

Juliet and Andy pounced on her the moment Adrien left the table. “You didn’t tell us you were dating Adrien Agreste!” Andy cried.

“I’m not,” she protested. “We went to college together, and our best friends are dating. We’re just friends.” The words didn’t give her pain as they had back in college. Yes, she still loved Adrien, but he didn’t have to return her feelings. She liked being friends. It was fine.

“Didn’t look like it,” Juliet said, her eyes glittering. “But okay. Looks like we have a matchmaking job, Andy.”

Marinette crossed her arms. “Don’t you dare,” she scolded.

They dared.

When the son of the owner of the company requested something, things apparently moved rather fast. The very next time she went to her internship with her designs, Mme. Oppenord had frostily declared that an appointment with Adrien Agreste for modelling her designs had been set. She’d been rather hurtful about the fact that she clearly thought it was nepotism and not talent until she took a look at Marinette’s designs. Then she gaped, and behaved much nicer.

She was also pretty supportive. Marinette had stocked and organized the wardrobe, making friends with a couple of the interns helping, though some had looked down on her, all of them obviously being out of lycée. Mme. Oppenord had also let her select the colour palette of decoration of somebody’s party (with plenty of criticism, of course, but it was the thought that counted).

Adrien had met her at the cafeteria once more, this time walking her down to the gate. Andy had giggled and pushed her at him once.

After all these years, you’d think she’d be used to pushy friends shoving her at him. But nope.

He caught her by the waist, and just laughed while she stammered in apology and embarrassment. “Don’t worry about it, Marinette. After all these years, I’ve kind of grown used to it.”

“I really am madly clumsy,” Marinette tried to laugh it off. An odd look passed over his face.

“That can be an endearing quality,” he said softly. She nearly had a heart attack. Did he mean to call her endearing? Did he--? But no, he couldn’t. “I’ll see you Saturday evening for the shoot?”

“Why is it so soon?” She frowned, glad to get off-topic from her ‘endearing’ clumsiness.

Adrien smiled ruefully. “Father’s overjoyed, like I said he would be. He’s taking the opportunity to start the new advertising campaign he wanted me to star in. He wasn’t very happy with cutting down my modelling, even if it was for learning about the business instead.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, unable to think of anything else. At this point, as bad as it sounded, she was used to the way Adrien’s father acted with him.

He ruffled his hair. “Well, at least it’s for a good cause. Can’t wait to wear something of your design again,” he winked and headed back to the building, leaving her blushing.

“And she says there’s nothing romantic between them,” Juliet giggled.

Marinette scolded her all the way to the train station where they were leaving Andy and walking home.

Somehow, Juliet and Andy weaseled their way into the photoshoot. Andy was there helping with the jewellery anyway, but Juliet winked at her, rushing after the photographer in an effort to ‘assist’.

Marinette loved her new friends, but really.

Adrien had been right that one time: photoshoots and modelling were long and boring. Although assisting with the wardrobe, and exchanging glances and smiles with Adrien, and making sure her pieces were done justice and were right for Jagged and her website and glaring at Andy and Juliet made them less so.

The photoshoot went well enough, despite a couple hiccups and Vincent’s despairing that Adrien had had such a long break from modelling (exactly two weeks) and would continue taking a break after this (indefinitely).

What Juliet and Andy did afterwards though? The. Last. Straw.

She was going to kill them. Painfully. Despite Tikki’s admonishments about Ladybug having to be a model for good behaviour.

And now she was facing a celebratory dinner date with Adrien.

Great.

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