Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Aaaaaah!  This is so sick!”  Rena Rouge clapped her palms to her cheeks as she took in the underground hideout.  

Marinette knew it wasn’t much—practically just a boxlike room Cataclysmed out of the Paris sewers—but it was off the grid, a place Hawkmoth wouldn’t think to look for them.  And thanks to a few rounds of her Lucky Charm, the room had furniture that wouldn’t have fit through the small door otherwise.  A red-and-black spotted sofa took up most of the space in the middle, but a small refrigerator was crammed behind a stone counter that served as the division between “living room” and “kitchen.” A tall lamp cast a warm glow across the stone walls.

Extension cords hidden against the walls allowed them to borrow the sewer’s electricity.  Was that stealing?  Maybe, but even heroes of Paris had to keep their food cold somehow.

“Dude, you have a Switch?  Please tell me you have Just Dance 2023.” 

Carapace was already flipping through the games Chat Noir had brought.  Marinette had tried to insist that they didn’t have time to play video games, but Chat said it would be good practice in case Hawkmoth ever akumatized Gamer 4.0.  She couldn’t argue with that.  (Especially since it was too much fun to crush him at Ultimate Mecha Strike V.)

“I do, but the Wii versions are way better,” Chat pointed to the other console he’d already set up.  “We should play 2015.  That one’s got Holding Out for a Hero.”

“We’re not here to play games, kitty,” Marinette reminded him.  They’d have time for that later, but she didn’t want Rena Rouge and Carapace to think they were too casual about their jobs.

“But if we are, I’d mop the floor with you all.”  Rena crossed her arms.

“Psh, have you seen my dance moves, fox lady?”

“I don’t need to.  The only one who’s ever managed to reach my score is my boyfriend.”

“Well, the only one who’s ever managed to top my score is my girlfriend.”

Chat Noir sighed from his spot leaning against the rough-hewn wall.  “I wish I had a girlfriend to kick my butt at video games.”

He turned and fluttered his golden lashes at her.

“Maybe you’d be better off practicing a dating simulator.”  She smirked.

“Ah, but none of them could ever turn me down as cleverly as you.”

Rena strode between them and put her hands on her hips.  “Alright, alright, enough flirting.  We can play games after Ladybug tells us why she brought us here.”

“Hey, I brought you guys here too,” Chat pouted.

“Sorry, why you both brought us here.”

“Alright.” Marinette nodded towards the couch.  “You guys can have a seat.  Chat and I will take the bean bags.”  Those weren’t created by her superpowers, so they were the soft pink of her old bedroom.

“Aww, you don’t want to cuddle on the sofa with me?  I make a great lap cat, you know.”  He winked.

She rolled her eyes.  He’d gotten bolder ever since they’d started working on this hideout together.  She didn’t really mind, though—it had actually kept him more focused during akuma battles, since he didn’t have to cram in fighting and flirting all at once.

“So you and Chat Noir still aren’t dating?”  Rena asked, crossing her legs as she sat on the couch.  Carapace lounged next to her, his arms over the back.  “I thought, with the secret hideout…”

“And since there’s only one couch…” Carapace wiggled his eyebrows beneath his hood.

Marinette nearly faceplanted on her way to the fridge.  That probably would’ve been less embarrassing than facing Carapace’s question.

“First of all, no.”  She pulled out the gallon of milk and slammed it on the counter.  “Second of all, this is a strictly professional hideout.  For team bonding, meetings, and recharging kwamis.”

“I for one would still like to professionally cuddle.”  Chat raised his hand from his spot on the bean bag.

Marinette gulped her milk straight from the jug.  She didn’t have the energy to grab a cup after dealing with all this.  (Plus, she’d forgotten to bring the cups here.)

“Guys, leave Ladybug alone,” Rena said.  “She didn’t have to invite us to her ultra secret base.”

“Thank you,” she breathed in exasperation.

Chat pointed to her face.  “You’ve got a little, uh…”

She felt the milk drip off her chin.  Right.

She wiped her mouth on the back of her wrist, put up the milk, and plopped down on the other beanbag.  

“Anyway.”  She glared at each of the heroes, who each sat up straighter.  “I really need us all to get serious for a moment.  I’m sure you guys have noticed that things have changed.  Mayura has become more active.  We’ve faced sentimonsters as often as akumas, and more often both at once.”

Just thinking about it made her exhausted.  She’d never been more glad to have help from her team than in these last few months.  There was no way she could pass her second-year classes if she and Chat Noir were the only active heroes.

So the news she was about to give Rena and Carapace was long in coming.

“If you’re up to it, I’d like you to keep your miraculouses full time now.”

Carapace’s jaw dropped.  Rena Rouge grinned, her faux ears quivering.

“No way!  I mean, yes!  Of course I’m up for it!”

“Me too, but… what about the Master dude?”  Carapace frowned.  “Wayzz is his kwami too, isn’t he?  Won’t they miss each other?”

Marinette shared a look with Chat Noir.  They’d discussed what they’d tell their partners before inviting them here, but this topic hadn’t come up.  It wasn’t like Rena or Carapace knew Master Fu personally; the kwamis flew their miraculouses to them each time they were needed.  But Wayzz must have shared enough stories for Carapace to care about him.

“If we’re going to be a team, we need to be honest with each other,” Chat said with uncharacteristic seriousness.  “The Master is gone.”

“Gone?”  Rena gaped.

“Gone, like… dead?” Carapace whispered.

“No, no!”  Chat said, he and Marinette both waving their arms.

“His memory has been fading for a long time now,” she admitted.  “He’s still able function, but he doesn’t want to risk making any mistakes with the miraculouses.  He deserves the rest, anyway.  Last week was his 192nd birthday.”

Carapace whistled, sinking further into the couch.

“Is he okay, though?” Rena’s eyebrows drew together.

“He’s all good, don’t worry,” Chat Noir assured in his own comforting way.  “His friend is taking care of him.  They’re heading back to China, so he’ll be safe from Hawkmoth, too.”

“Wayzz didn’t tell me that when he came today.  I hope the little dude’s taking it alright.”

“It’s going to be hard on all of the kwamis.  The Master has been their only friend for years.” Marinette stood, moving to open a cabinet at the top of the entertainment center.  “That’s another reason I’ve invited you here.  Protecting the kwamis is a greater responsibility than I can handle on my own.”

Rena, Carapace, and even Chat leaned forward as she gently set down the Miracle Box.  Well, box was a loose term—it looked more like a giant polka-dotted egg ever since Master Fu had passed it on to her.  She was still studying the grimoire to learn how to disguise it again.  Until then, the Miracle Box was safer in this hideout than in the apartment she shared with three other girls.

“We won’t let you down, Ladybug.”  Rena Rogue nodded with determination.

“Yeah, we’re with you, lady bro.”  Carapace smiled.  “Though I’ve gotta ask—are you showing this off to all us temp heroes?  You don’t know who we are.  If Hawkmoth got ahold of us...”

“It’s a risk we’re willing to take now.”

Only Chat knew how long it had taken for her to reach that decision.  He’d been the one to suggest it, actually.  Hawkmoth and Mayura clearly worked together in a unified offense.  The only way the heroes could stand against them would be by relying on each other.

“Does that mean we’re revealing our identities too?”  Rena Rouge asked.

“As much as I’d like to blind you with my beauty,” Chat Noir flipped his hair, “it’s still not safe enough for that.”

“Aw.” Rena’s ears drooped.

“You won’t need to stay transformed the whole time you’re here, though.  I’ve made masks for each of you, in case your kwamis need to rest.”  Since they were adults, they wouldn’t automatically detransform after using their powers, but it would take a toll on their kwamis eventually.  Besides, they might want to hang out with their friends in the Miracle Box.

Marinette replaced the box, then pointed out the four hooks near the door.  “Carapace, yours comes with a hood.  I wasn’t sure how to make it resemble your suit otherwise.”

Rena sprung up and ran to grab hers.  “Wow, I wasn’t expecting it to be so soft.  Once we’re done kicking Hawkmoth’s butt, you could go into costume design.”

Marinette laughed nervously.  “Oh, it was nothing!  Just a little something I threw together.”

“Don’t be so modest, bugaboo.  You’re amazing at anything you put your mind to.”  Chat rested his elbow on her shoulder.  She rolled her eyes, but didn’t push him away.

“There’s only four masks,” Carapace said, stepping up behind them.  “What about Queenie, and Ryuuko, and the others?  Are they not getting the VIP tour?”

“I told you they’d ask.” Chat’s voice betrayed the smirk Marinette couldn’t see.

“And I told you, I still don’t trust Queen Bee.  And the others are too inexperienced.  We can phase them in later, but I want them to prove they can keep their own identities secret before we trust them with our hideout.”

Ryuuko, Viperion, Pegasus, and King Monkey had technically been heroes for about three years, but they were called in so infrequently that the experience hardly counted.  Plus, there was the fact that the secret base was simply too small to fit all nine heroes.

Rena nodded.  “Can’t blame you there.  Queenie reminds me of this spoiled brat I knew back in lycée.”

“Same, actually,” Marinette mumbled.  If it wasn’t for the fact that Chloé Bourgeois would never lift a manicured fingernail to help someone else, Marinette would almost think she was Queen Bee.  Maybe she had a slightly-less-obnoxious cousin?

“Hey, let’s be nice to our teammate.  Pollen must have picked her for a reason,” Chat said.  “...Even if none of us has a clue what that reason is.”

“We’ll still work with her, dude.  I’m just happy we don’t have to share the party house.”  Carapace grinned.  “And speaking of partying… can we play Just Dance 2023?”

Chapter Text

It was almost funny—in a twisted sort of way—how she could go from fighting for her life to panicking about her grades.

Today’s akuma had struck while she was supposed to be studying for her first physics exam.  Even with Rena Rouge and Carapace providing backup, the fight through Lord Labyrinth’s twisting maze had taken three hours.  

And, to top it off, she was stranded on the opposite side of the city.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Tikki said, curled up into a ball in her palms.  “You’re sure you don’t have even a crumb left?”

She patted her empty pockets.  “Nothing.”  

Tikki had already eaten her five backup macarons, two emergency protein bars, and even a crepe she’d snagged with the last of her change.  She couldn’t afford much more on a university budget.  Tikki didn’t always need to recharge after using Lucky Charm anymore, but she also couldn’t go on forever.

“The hideout is closer than your school, right?  We could stop there, then I can transform you and get you home.”

“Good idea, Tikki.”  Marinette pressed a quick kiss to her head before slipping her into her backpack, which had reappeared once she’d detransformed.  The heavy weight of her laptop and notebook pulling on her shoulders only added to her exhaustion.

“There’s a good entrance the next street over…”

Soon enough she was dropping down into the damp sewer.  In comic books, didn’t the heroes have cool hideouts?  But she couldn’t complain.  Chat may have been the one to suggest the location, but she’d agreed that it was the safest bet.  At least it would be a place she could rest for a minute.

The secret base was disguised from the outside, thanks to Rena Rouge’s new long-lasting illusion.  Marinette could only spot the door by looking for a specific pattern in the wall—four slightly shimmery bricks at about eye level.  She still patted the wall in three different places before brushing the secret handle.

“Finally,” she breathed, fumbling for the padlock.  Once she pulled it just out of the illusion’s range, she could enter the password.  Four letters, one on each dial.

HOME.  She’d thought it was too obvious, but Chat Noir had teared up once he’d seen the lock’s default password, and she couldn’t bring herself to change it.

With the lock still in hand, she stepped into the room— 

—Only to hear someone yelp and fall off the couch.

“Who is it?  Who’s there?”  Chat Noir’s voice rang out.

Marinette nearly jumped back and slammed the door.  But thankfully, Chat’s hand was covering his eyes. 

His ungloved hand.  Thankfully, he’d at least had the sense to cover his miraculous with some kind of… hair scrunchie?  Oh well, whatever worked.

“Don’t look!”  She said redundantly.  If he’d gotten a glimpse of her, it was already too late.

“I won’t, I pawmise.”

She took her fake mask from its hook and slipped it over her face.  Then she shoved her backpack and shoes into the cabinet labeled LADYBUG, exchanging them for a long green hoodie that was too big to wear in public.  Thankfully it was cool down in the sewers, even during the late summer. 

The wooden cabinet door hadn’t been the product of a Lucky Charm, and it hung at a lopsided angle when she shut it.

“Alright.”  She sighed.  “You can look now.”

Chat Noir dropped his arm and stood, his eyes widening beneath the fabric mask as he took her in.  

Strangely, she wanted to squirm under his gaze.  It wasn’t like she looked that different outside of her suit, and the fake mask would still hide her identity.  But Chat’s eyes… the black fabric didn’t change his scleras, and she found herself transfixed by the new shade of spring green.  She hadn’t seen him like this since they’d swapped miraculouses while fighting against Reflekta and Reflekdoll.

“What?  Hotter than you expected?”  He grinned, flexing his arm under his Ladybug-themed hoodie.  At least he’d been smart enough to bring an outfit change too.

“Trying to win me over by buying my merch now?” She raised an eyebrow.  Pretty eyes or not, he was still Chat Noir.  She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting flustered.

“No, I’m trying to win you over by being pawsomely charming. This,” he tugged at the hem of his hoodie, “is just because I have taste.”

“I guess I can’t fault you there.”  She stepped over to him and straightened the drawstrings hanging from his hood.  It was still weird, seeing him in normal clothes, being forced to confront the fact that Chat Noir was a regular university student, just like her.  She knew that, of course, but with his over-the-top puns and flirting, it sometimes felt like he belonged in a comic book.

“We need a doorbell.  You could’ve seen me before I had the chance to put on my mask.”  She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that sooner.  She’d assumed heroes would stop here individually, or arrive transformed.  It wasn’t like her to miss such an obvious problem; the stress of classes must be getting to her.

“You could’ve just knocked, you know.”  He smirked.

“...I didn’t expect anyone to be here,” she admitted, face heating.  “The lock was still on.  How did you even get in?”

“I had Plagg put it back on just in case I ended up taking a catnap.  But don’t worry about it, bugaboo.  We’ll both be more prepared next time.”

His smile hit differently outside of his transformation.  Stupidly, she found herself just staring into his eyes again.

“Great, now we’re going to have to watch the lovebirds in person.”  Plagg gagged from his spot on the counter.  It didn’t stop him from swallowing a wedge of cheese immediately after, though.

“And I’m going to have to smell you in person,” Tikki said, waving her arm in front of her face.

“We’re in a sewer!  How much stinkier can it get?”

Marinette laughed.  It wasn’t often she got to see Plagg, much less him and Tikki together.

“When it comes to month-old camembert, it can always get stinkier,” Chat said.  “Trust me.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”  Marinette didn’t have a very good sense of smell, anyway.  That was convenient when your secret base was located in the sewers.

“I think we’ll be fine coming here without our suits as long as everyone knocks first,”  Chat said, plopping back down on the couch.  “We’ve already got changes of clothes that won’t identify us.  Rena and Carapace dropped theirs off when they were adding their improvements yesterday.”

“Improvements?”  Marinette raised an eyebrow, not that he could see under her mask.

“I told them it would be okay; I didn’t think you’d mind.  Carapace just thought it would be smart to put a Shellter around the Miracle Box.  The kwamis can phase through it with their miraculouses, but no one can reach inside to steal them.”

She stepped up to the entertainment center and opened the cabinet with the miracle box.  Sure enough, there was a glowing green barrier around the red egg.

“That’s a good idea, but… what if the kwamis don’t know they’re needed?  They can’t hear us when they’re inside their magical world.”

Chat’s face fell.  It was weird, not seeing his ears and tail droop, but the rest of his body language was still so expressive.

“I didn’t think of that.”

“It’s okay.”  She stepped over and put a hand on his shoulder.  “It really was a good idea.  You didn’t know.”  

Master Fu had given her more training on being the Guardian than he had Chat Noir.  All the Master said on the matter was that Chat’s schedule wouldn’t allow it.

He nodded.  “I’ll have him take it down next time I see him.”

Maybe they could still use Shellter in other ways; she’d have to think about that.  If only all four of them could control the shield.  That would make an excellent way to protect the base.

“You said Rena made some changes too?”

“Oh, right!”  He sprung up again, then vaulted over the back of the couch to reach the kitchen.  Apparently he was athletic even without the suit.  “She brought some cooking supplies.  Also, she was asking if we had any plans to add a bathroom.”

“A bathroom?  This isn’t a hotel.”  Marinette rubbed her temples.  She wasn’t a plumber.  She couldn’t just Lucky Charm up a functioning toilet.

Plagg let out a loud burp.  “She’s right.  Who needs a fancy kitchen or a bathroom when you’ve got a fridge full of cheese?”

Chat glared at him.  “Some of us aren’t magical kwamis who never need to pee.”

“That’s what the sewer’s for, isn’t it?”

“Not that kind of sewer!”  He smacked his forehead.

Marinette was doing her best not to burst out laughing.  Chat Noir might wear the clown suit, but Plagg was the clown suit.

“I’ll see if I can come up with anything,” she assured him.  Having a bathroom down here would be nice, though she didn’t know how to pull that off yet.  There was a locker room for sanitation employees that they could probably use, but it would be risky, whether they went suited up or not.

This was supposed to be just a simple meeting place.  She should’ve known that doing anything with Chat Noir couldn’t be simple.

Maybe we should’ve gone with his first idea of renting an apartment, she thought as she poured herself a glass of milk.  It looked like Rena had brought disposable cups along with the griddle, spatulas, and utensils strewn on the counter.  She really should try Lucky Charming up some drawers.  Or at least break out the dragon miraculous and cut a few more cabinets into the rock.

“So what brings you here, anyway?”  Chat asked while lounging against the counter.  “Hoping you’d run into a handsome black cat?”

He slicked his hair back in a way he probably thought was suave.  Instead he just ended up skewing his mask, and he blinked in surprise.  Or maybe winked.  It was hard to tell with the fabric covering up one of his eyes.

“Tikki needed a break before heading home.  You saw how many Lucky Charms I used today.”  She held out her cup, letting Tikki dunk her cookie in it before she took another sip.

“You were amazing.  Building a trebuchet out of the pieces it gave you?  Genius.”

She punched him lightly.  “Flatterer.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true, my lady.”  He winked.

Stop that, she told her heart when it picked up its pace.  It didn’t listen, especially when he leaned in towards her.

It’s those stupid eyes.  Those stupid, gorgeous eyes.

“I still can’t believe you launched my staff at just the right angle to hit the akumatized object over the wall. You wouldn’t happen to be a physics major, would you?”

“A what?”  She blinked before his words actually sunk in.  Then she nearly dropped her cup of milk on the counter.  “Oh no!  The physics exam!”

“...So that’s a yes?”

“No.”  Her face flopped on the stone counter.  Ow.  “I’m terrible at physics.  I just have to take the intro class, and I was supposed to study for the test today, but then Lord Labyrinth took forever and,” she took a deep breath, “I just really don’t want to.”

She’d never procrastinated in her life.  Well, not on purpose, anyway.  She just had too much to do to afford it.

“Even superheroes need breaks, you know.”  He rubbed her shoulder, his touch gentle without his claws.  “But if you do want to study… could I help you?  I’ve took a few physics classes last year.  They were a-mass-ing.”

“Really?”  They didn’t talk much about their school lives—mostly for identity reasons, but also because they usually didn’t have the time.  She never would’ve picked him out as a science guy.  Theatre, maybe.

“Yeah.  You could say I had a lot of potential.”  

She groaned.  “Oh no.  I can’t take cat puns and science puns.  If you keep this up, I’ll just take my chances with failing.”

“What?  Do you think there’s too much friction between us?”

“Chat.” She glared on principle, even though she had to admit that one was almost funny.

“Alright, alright, I’m done.”  He grinned.  “Grab your notes and we can get started.”

Chapter Text

Carapace leaned over the back of the couch.  That made his hood-like mask slip down over his eyes; she’d need to take his measurements and make adjustments.  Just one more thing to put on her list.  

“So. Bathrooms, huh?”

“Bathrooms.”  Marinette sighed, slumping back on the couch.  She had a notebook in her lap, but all of her ideas so far had been scratched out.  

She couldn’t Lucky Charm a toilet.  (She’d tried.)  She refused to dig a hole and just let Chat Noir Cataclysm the waste periodically.  ( Ew. )  She’d even spitballed ideas with some of the kwamis, but like Plagg, none of them really understood the need for a bathroom.  Instead they just floated in front of the TV, playing Mario Kart on Chat’s Switch.

Carapace settled down on the couch next to her, sipping his Carpi Sun and watching the race. Kaalki was winning as Princess Peach, with Wayzz driving Bowser close behind.  Orikko seemed content to let Yoshi trail near the bottom of the rankings.  Xuppu as Donkey Kong was in last place, on account of him refusing to hold the remote right-side up.

“Do you have any ideas?”  She handed her notebook to Carapace.

“You don’t have to build a bathroom, y’know.  I thought it would be cool, especially if we all have a sleepover sometime, but you’ve already done a ton for us. We can deal.”  

She knew they could, but it would make her feel better to have a bathroom, too.  

(Plus, she’d aced her Physics exam last week.  It would be nice to repay Chat Noir somehow.)

“We’ve come this far.  I’m not going to give up now,” she said.

Carapace squinted down at the paper.  Flipped to the next blank page.  Flipped it back.

“Uhhhh… so what do you have ‘this far’?”

“...Pretty much nothing.  But I’m sure there’s a solution!  If I can figure out how to use a Lucky Charm every fight, I’m pretty sure I can come up with something as simple as indoor plumbing.”

“Maybe you’re thinking about it wrong.”  Carapace shut the notebook.  “You don’t write things down when you’re figuring out a Lucky Charm, right?  You just… I don’t know, it always looks like magic to me.”  He smiled sheepishly.

It wasn’t part of the miraculous magic.  It was just the way her brain worked.  But he had a point—it might help to look at this from a different angle.

“You’re right.”  

She stood, smiling at Wayzz’s laughter as the kwami crossed the finish line.  It was good for him to spend time with his friends again, which was why she’d met Carapace here this evening.  She hadn’t yet passed on the code for anyone else to open the Miracle Box.

“I’m going to need to borrow Kaalki,” she told the kwamis.

“Me?”  Kaalki frowned, pointing a hoof to her chest.  “What for?”

“I’m… not exactly sure yet,” she admitted.  Kaalki’s Voyage was definitely part of her plan, but she was still missing a few pieces.  

She scanned the room, gathering objects that caught her eye: a colander from the kitchen, the dragon choker in the open Miracle Box, the sewer map tucked behind that.  Then her yo-yo and the turtle bracelet on Nino’s wrist.  So close, but it still didn’t quite add up.

At least she had an idea of what she might need the yo-yo for.  She flipped it open and clicked on one of her few contacts.

“Bugaboo?”  Chat picked up on the first ring.  “Miss me already?”

“It sounds like you missed me, if you’re out and transformed.”  She smirked.  “Meet me at the base.  We’re putting in the bathroom.”

XXX

“I know your plans are usually pretty complicated, but are they always so…”

“Clever?  Amazing?  Inconceivable?”  Chat Noir asked while brushing off his hands.

“I don’t think that word means what you think it means,” Nino  said automatically, then shook his head.  “I was gonna say messy. ”

“Not always.  It’s about fifty-fifty.”  Ladybug—well, Dragonbug, technically — used a broom to sweep out the black dust left over from Chat Noir’s Cataclysm.  It wasn’t enough dust to account for the huge chunk of rock that had been there.  His power must do more than just break things; it actually destroyed them.

Miraculous of destruction.  Duh.  Still, it was super cool to watch the magic up close and personal.

He could hardly believe Ladybug and Chat Noir had picked him out to hold his miraculous full-time.  Alya would’ve killed for a chance like this, and he couldn’t even tell her about it.  He kept worrying he’d accidentally let something slip, and then she’d use her nosy reporter skills to get the whole truth out of him.  

So far he’d been lucky.  Even if he almost cackled when she called “Carapace” a ninja-turtle wannabe.

“Carapace?  Are you ready?”  Dragonbug faced him.

“Huh?  Oh, yeah, of course!”

He stepped into the small room Dragonbug and Chat Noir had finished carving out.  The only thing that stood out was the cylindrical hole in the wall, just a little bit above his head.

His job was to use Shellter in the back of the indention, leaving just a fist-sized gap in the front of the spherical shield.  Luckily he’d practiced different barrier formations since Chat Noir had broken the news about his Miracle Box shield.  He still hadn’t found a useful way to protect the box, but he could make a shield with a hole in it now.

“Shellter!”   He called while plunging his fist into the hole.  Green light exploded inside, pushing the dirt and stone outwards.  The wall trembled slightly, but held.

“How’s that?”  He asked with a grin.  Dragonbug’s plan didn’t make sense to him yet, but he was sure it would be awesome.

“Perfect.”  She clapped him on the shoulder before they swapped places, her own hands inside the hole.  “Now—water dragon!”

He and Chat Noir peeked over her shoulders, trying to see what was happening.  

“You’re making a water tank,” Chat Noir realized with a grin.  “See?  What did I tell you, Cara?  Inconceivable .”

Nino just laughed.  At times like this, he felt like he wasn’t an outsider on the team.  As crazy cool as Chat Noir and Ladybug were, they weren’t larger-than-life.  They were just… dudes, like him.  There was no need to get starstruck like Rena.

Dragonbug capped the hole with the end of a plunger, her latest Lucky Charm.  Nino was just glad that hadn’t been for a toilet. 

“If I get you some measurements, Chat, can you do some math for me?  I want to know how much water this actually holds, and how many showers it should supply before we need to refill it.”

“Depends on how long your showers take, but sure.  I’ve had some physics problems like that before.”

Dragonbug used her sword to puncture a few smaller holes in the wall, then secured the colander over the top of the plunger.

“So it’s like a shower head.”  Nino nodded.  “Smart.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Carapace.”  She smiled at him.  “You were right.  I was thinking too hard, when we had everything we needed all along.”

His face warmed a bit under her praise.  “I didn’t do much.”

“It’s not always about what you do , turtle dude.”  Chat Noir slung an arm around his shoulders.  “We’re a team now.  And even though LB’s usually the brains, we all support each other.”

“Chat’s right.  Wayzz picked you for a reason, and so did we.”

It was cool that they the heroes wanted to include him, but it was hard to take them seriously when they’d all just jerry-rigged a shower together.

“Because I’d help you build a bathroom?”  He joked.  

“Come on, we were having a moment!”  Chat pulled back and playfully punched him in the arm.  “You’re supposed to be thinking wow, the amazing Chat Noir picked me!”

He cracked a grin.  “Ladybug’s right.  You’re a real drama queen, bro.”

Chat Noir gaped at his partner.  “When did you say that?”

“Most recently?  About an hour ago.  But if you meant how many times I’ve said it, I’ve already lost count.”

“You wound me, my Lady.”  He clutched his hands to his heart.  

“See?  My point exactly.”  She waved her sword at him with a smirk.

He sighed.  “Walked right into that one, didn’t I.”

“Yeah.”  Nino patted his shoulder consolingly.

“Maybe one day she’ll be the king to my drama queen,” Chat sighed again, but this time in a more lovesick sort of way.  The same way Marinette always sighed over his bro Adrien.  If Alya hadn’t expressly forbidden him from interfering in any way—and if Chat and Marinette weren’t both so hopelessly in love with their own crushes—he might’ve tried to set the two of them up on a blind date.  At least then they could both be dramatic together.

“Good luck with that, dude.”  

“Are you going to stand there sighing, or actually help me?”  Ladybug had her hands on her hips.  She’d already dismissed Longg, who flew to hover by Kaalki.

“You know I’m always at your command, my Lady.”  Chat swept his arm in a dramatic bow.  

“Show Carapace how to combine miraculouses.  He’s never done it before.”

“Me?”  Nino pointed to himself and blinked.  “I can do that too?”

“I said this base was for training purposes, didn’t I?”  Ladybug handed him the dark glasses.  “Well, consider this training.”

“What? I thought I was to transform the glorious and famous Chat Noir.”  Kaalki crossed her arms.

Chat’s eyes widened for a second before he grinned.  “You heard her.  Ready to admit how glorious I am yet?”

“In your dreams, kitty.”  Ladybug laughed before turning and crouching before the kwami.  “Please, Kaalki?  I may not know Carapace that well yet, but I know he has a good heart, and he’s always willing to protect others first.  I think that’s the most glorious thing of all, don’t you?”

Did she really think that?  He found his face warming again, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“She’s right, you know.”  Chat Noir nudged Nino with his elbow.  “You’re always running in to take hits.  You’re almost as bad as me.”

“I’ve actually got a shield, though.”  He patted the shield on his back, and Chat laughed.

“Good point.  I’ll let Ladybug throw you at the akumas next time.”

By then, Ladybug had finally convinced Kaalki to transform him.

“It’s really not hard,” the kwami said.  “All you need to do is speak my name and Wayzz’s, then say unify.  Just like Ladybug did to become Dragonbug.”

Nino had watched her combine the miraculouses before they started constructing the room. It had looked that simple, but he’d still assumed there was a trick to it.

“That’s it?  I don’t have to, I dunno, feel something in my heart?”

Chat laughed before thumping him on the back.  “You’re a funny dude, Cara.  Oh, but there is one thing she forgot to tell you—you’ve got to neigh like a horse while you transform for this one.”

“Chat!”  Ladybug smacked his arm, but he just laughed again.  “ No, you don’t.  You will need to bring your hands together, though.  It allows the magic to flow through you better, so the powers mix evenly.  That’s what the Master always said, anyway.”

He nodded.  “Alright.  Wayzz, Kaalki, unify!”

He punched his fists together, and teal light crackled over him.  It tingled in a different way from the first transformation.  His turtle suit always felt warm, like putting on a comfortable blanket.  This was more like walking outside during a heat wave.  A moment of dizziness passed before he could breathe again.

“Does it always feel like that?”

“Oh.  Right.”  Ladybug smiled apologetically.  “I should’ve warned you about the heat.  It should pass in a moment.”

Sure enough, the heat faded like the dizziness had.  He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together.  The gloves of his suit were brown now instead of green; he wished he had a mirror to check out the rest of his costume.  They’d have get one for the bathroom eventually.

“Cool, cool.  Anything else I should know?”  He asked.

She went over how to use Voyage, then directed him to the spot she’d drawn out in chalk.  

Sweat beaded under his mask.  Getting the exact coordinates of a magic portal sounded a lot more complicated than throwing up a shield.  Whoever Pegasus was, he must be a real genius.

But right now they didn’t have Pegasus, and Ladybug seemed to think he could do this.  He didn’t want to disappoint her and Chat Noir.

He fixed the portal’s destination in his mind.

“You sure I can’t make this go to, I don’t know, Gabriel Agreste’s office?”  He asked with a grin.  “Y’know, as a random, nonspecific example.”

Chat Noir’s eyes widened for half a second before he doubled over laughing.  Ladybug looked mortified.

“What do you have against Gabriel Agreste?”  She asked.

“Other than that his designs are bland and unoriginal?”

“Or that he looks like he’s swallowed an onion in every photo?”  Nino added.

“Or his sour cream dollop toupée?”

“Heh, you mean tou- pee.”  

Chat Noir cackled at that, and they hi-fived.

“I’m sorry, bugaboo.  I think I’m going to have to replace you with the turtle.”

Ladybug rubbed her temples.  “I need Rena here.  This is too much idiot boy energy for me to handle.”

“You know you love us.”  Chat grinned.

Nino still couldn’t help wondering what beef Chat actually had with Adrien’s dad, but of course he couldn’t ask.  Just like he couldn’t admit that his own grudge against the candy-cane man came from how he treated Nino’s best bro.

“Alright, stand back.”  He finally shoed them away.  “I gotta get in the zone for this.”

He pictured the sewer—a real sewage plant, not the storm drain their base was connected to.  Then he punched his fist towards the floor.

“Voyage!”

A glowing portal opened up in the stone.  And it reeked.

“Smells like it worked.”  Ladybug pinched her nose.  “I’ll get the hardware set up later.  In the meantime…”

She dragged over a manhole cover that Chat had fetched for them on his way over.  It was wide enough to cover the small portal and stop the fumes from leaking out.

“I think that’s all we can do for now,” she said before holding out her fist.  “Pound it?”

Nino had shared Ladybug and Chat Noir’s post-battle tradition plenty of times before, but for some reason, this one felt as special as his first.  Maybe because it was over something so crazy.  Maybe he was getting sappy, but it felt like the heroes trusted him for more than just watching their backs in battle.

They were more than heroes, and they were more than just dudes.  They were his friends. 

He smiled at them.

“Pound it!”

Chapter Text

Adrien awoke to the sound of the shower running.  

“Nngh… Plagg?”  He mumbled, only to remember that he’d slept transformed.  Ladybug’s handmade masks were great, but his tended to slip off his face if he turned over in his sleep.  The last thing he wanted was for her to pay an early-morning visit and discover his identity.

Not that Ladybug ever visited their secret base in the mornings.  But he kept hoping anyway.

The water was still running.  Had the metal plate behind the colander come unlatched?  It was more reliable than the plunger they’d originally installed, but it could still be finicky.

He stretched before rolling off the couch.  If the shower had turned on by accident, he’d better fix it before all their water ran out.  Ladybug didn’t want to use Longg’s powers more often than necessary.

He shuffled over to the bathroom door and— 

“Hey, creep!  What’s your problem?”

Adrien jumped back and blinked, and his eyes finally focused on the orange fox hovering in front of his face.

“Trixx?”

“Duh.  Why are trying to barge in on my holder?  Didn’t anyone ever teach you to knock?”

“Wh—I didn’t know she was here,” he said honestly.  “What’s Rena doing here at” —he checked the clock on the microwave Carapace had bought— “five in the morning?”

“Plumbing maintenance at my apartment,” Rena’s voice filtered through the door over the sound of running water.  “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Er, uh—sorry!”  He backed away from the door and parked himself on the couch again.  Somehow he hadn’t thought through the implications of having a shower in the base.  Sure, he’d used it several times—but more often than not, he was the only one here.  It felt weird to be sharing the space with Rena Rouge, who he still didn’t know that well.  LIke suddenly getting a new roommate.

He’d never had a roommate before.

He shouldn’t complain—he’d come here because there was a chance he’d have company.  Even when he didn’t, the underground base felt more alive than his sterile apartment, with its grey-washed walls and decor supplied by his father’s new interior design line.  As if his living space was just another walk-in advertisement.

Besides, this was where he’d left his Switch.

“What are you doing here, anyway?”  Trixx asked, spinning circles around Adrien’s head.  “You homeless or something?”

“What?  No.”  He shook his head, trying to get rid of the dizziness.

“Huh.  Rena and Ladybug think you are.  Since you’re always here.”

His cheeks flushed.  They’d talked about him?  It was almost sweet that they worried.

“Plus, you’re always buying fancy stuff, like your video games, and the expensive take out boxes you always leave in the trash, and the shampoo that smells like roses—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.”

“—I mean, it would make sense, if you blew all your money and ended up on the streets.  Or under them, I guess.”  Trixx shrugged.

The kwami had a point.  Maybe Adrien should curtail his spending if he didn’t want to give away his identity.

“It’s nothing like that.  I just get take out a lot because I’m not much of a cook.”

“Finally, something the amazing Chat Noir is bad at.”  The door opened, revealing Rena Rouge in ripped jeans and a denim jacket with an Anansi logo sewn over the shoulder.  Huh.  He’d never pegged her as an MMA fan.  Her hair was still wrapped up in a black towel, but she’d slipped her mask on over it.

“I keep meaning to learn,” he said.  

Marinette would probably be willing to teach him, but she was always busy with classes or projects.  Nino had practically called him a lost cause after he’d managed to burn a grilled cheese.  He knew Alya was an amazing cook, but he worried a little about how incompetent he’d look next to her.

“Then today’s your lucky day.”  Rena smiled, spinning a spatula around her finger.

“You—you’d do that?”  Adrien perched on his knees, crossing his arms over the back of the couch.

“Why not?  You’re afraid you’ll burn the base down?”

He probably wouldn’t.  At least the walls were solid stone, and there weren’t any maids who would report his mess to his father.

“That face isn’t very reassuring,” Trixx said.

“Don’t worry, he’ll do fine.”  Rena yanked him up by his arm.  “Trixx, will you plug in the griddle?”

“Aye-aye, Captain Rouge!”  The kwami saluted and connected the hot plate to the extension cord.

Rena grinned.  “Arrrg, excellent job first mate Trixx!  Now, hoist the cooking spray!”

Trixx searched the shelf and pulled out the metal canister.  He popped off the lid, which went rolling off across the floor.  Rena picked it up and put it on the kwami’s head like a little hat, and they both laughed together.

Adrien found himself smiling too.  He and Ladybug had definitely made the right choice in letting her keep her miraculous full-time.

“Alright, swashbuckler Chat.  Your turn at the helm.”  Rena Rouge positioned him in front of the griddle, then sprayed down the surface.

“What?  Already?”  His eyes widened.

“No better way to learn than by sailing straight into the cannons.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure there’s a lot better ways to learn.  Ways that don’t involve getting exploded.”  He didn’t even know how to work a griddle.  There was a knob on the side with numbers.  A temperature gauge?  And there was some kind of tray sticking out of the bottom.  He didn’t have a clue what that was for.

“Just don’t Cataclysm anything and you’ll be fine.”  Rena patted his arm.  She grabbed a carton of eggs from the polka-dotted fridge and set them on the counter.  A bowl and a whisk joined it; she really had stocked the whole kitchen.  All he’d contributed was some blackberry ice cream, which he ate straight out of the carton.

“Alright.  No Cat—”

She slapped her hand over his mouth.  “Don’t say it!”

“Right, right.  My bad.”  He blushed.  He really was a disaster.  Good thing Ladybug wasn’t here to see him like this—not that she’d be surprised.

Rena shook her head with a chuckle.  “I can’t believe I ever thought you and Ladybug were cool.”

“Hey!  Ladybug’s very cool.”  He put his hands on his hips.

“Okay, Ladybug’s still cool.  But admit it.  You’re both just big doofuses under those masks.”  She poked his nose, at the spot where his mask met skin.

“Joke’s on you.  We’re doofuses even with the masks.”

She laughed.  “Fair enough.  It’s comforting, though.”  She cracked an egg into the bowl.  Why she was putting it there and not on the hot surface, he didn’t know.  “I’m just a normal girl outside of the mask.  It’s nice to know you guys are the same way.”

“I can’t say I’m a normal girl, but I get what you mean.”  He grinned.  “It’s funny.  Carapace told me the same thing.  I guess we lose some of our mysterious appeal when you look too closely, but… I like that.”

“Really?”  She cracked another egg, then washed her hands under the tap he and Ladybug had set up.  

“Yeah.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I want people to trust us.  But sometimes people expect too much if they don’t see our flaws, too.”

She pressed a whisk and the bowl of eggs into his hands.  “Stir.”

He nodded.

“That makes sense,” she said in response to his earlier comment.  “Illusions can be useful, but they don’t hold up under pressure.”

“Exactly.”  He stirred the eggs.  Not fast enough; Rena took his hand and demonstrated how to beat the yolks to a runny mixture.

“Cheese, milk, and bacon bits, First mate Trixx.”

“Arggg,” he said, disappearing into the fridge.

“You do like cheese and bacon, right?”  Rena asked Adrien.

He smiled.  “Who doesn’t?”

Once Trixx delivered the ingredients, they mixed them into the egg goop.  It looked pretty gross, like a soup gone wrong.  But Rena instructed him to dump it on the griddle anyway.

The mixture sizzled on impact.  Man, that smelled way better than it looked.

“We’ll flip it in about a minute or two.  Omelettes cook pretty fast.”

He stared at the eggs as they slowly turned from translucent yellow to opaque white.  It was soothing, watching tiny bubbles pop as the change took place.  Why had he been so nervous about cooking again?

“This really is your first time making eggs, huh,” Rena commented. 

“That obvious?”  He blushed a little.  “It’s pretty much my first time making anything.”

“You sure you aren’t homeless?”  Trixx asked, poking his stomach.  “You look like you eat enough.  But every kit should know how to feed himself.”

Adrien’s ears and tail drooped.  He really should know.  If he ever wanted to cut ties with his father and his company, he’d need to live more frugally.

“Don’t give him such a hard time.  There’s a first time for everything.”  Rena brushed Trixx aside, then handed Adrien a spatula.  “Here.  Flip the omelette.”

She said it like an order, but she was smiling.  He thought he could hear the message hidden behind the words: I’m not going to judge you.  I know you can do it.

After living under the weight of his father’s doubts, it was a breath of fresh air.

“Thanks.”  He smiled.

(It wasn’t just for the spatula.)

XXX

“So, you spend the night here a lot?”  Rena asked as they ate their breakfast.  She’d taken off her hair towel, and it hung on the back of her chair to dry.

He shrugged.  “Not too often.”

By that, he meant he slept over five nights out of the week rather than all seven.  Nathalie still came to check on him every Tuesday, and Thursday evenings were spent with his old bodyguard.

“How’d you learn to cook like this?”  He asked to change the subject.  The omelette was light and fluffy in his mouth, with just the right amounts of salt, pepper, and cheese.  And it had only taken them around five minutes.

“My mom’s a pretty amazing cook.  She had me flipping omelettes before I learned how to walk.”

Adrien tried to keep the wistful look from his face.  His mom had always had chefs to cook for them, even before she disappeared.  If he’d ever asked, would she have had recipes to share with him?  Maybe Aunt Amelie would know.

“This was fun.  Makes up for how sucky my morning started, at least a little bit.”  Rena smiled, cleaning the rest of her plate.  She took Trixx’s too; she’d placed the kwami’s breakfast on a little saucer.

Adrien still wasn’t done—he’d wanted to savor the first (edible) food he’d cooked himself. 

“I’m sorry you had a rough morning,” he said.  “Anything I can do to help?”

“You can do the dishes, catboy.”  She winked and slung her bulky purse over her shoulder.  “I’ve got to hit the road.  Can’t miss the sunrise, or I’ll have gotten up this early for nothing.”

“Sunrise?”

“For my photography portfolio.  Nice shots of superheroes are one thing, but but I’ve gotta have a little bit of diversity.”

“I didn’t know you did photography,” He said. Of course, there was a lot he didn’t know about the other heroes.  “You should get some of your photos developed.  I bet they’d make this place a lot brighter.”

“Not a bad idea.  This place could use some livening up.”

She smiled at him over her shoulder before calling out, “Trixx, let’s pounce!”

Orange light washed over her, replacing her outfit but leaving her purse and fake mask.  She hung the mask back on its hook before pushing open the door.

“And Chat Noir?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re here for you.  Me, Ladybug, Carapace—if you ever need anything, you call us, alright?”

She might have phrased it as a question, but her eyes said it was an order.  It felt… weird, having someone other than Ladybug worrying about him.

But he could get used to weird.

He smiled.  “Alright.”

Maybe they didn’t need photos after all.  The room already felt a little brighter.

Chapter Text

“Rena.”  Marinette dropped her face into her palm.  “I swear, if you bap Carapace one more time, I’m confiscating your flute.”

Chat gasped loudly.  “You wouldn’t dare!  She’s only using it for the greater good.”

“How is hitting me the ‘greater good’?”  Carapace rubbed the top of his head, which was covered by his fake hood.  

Too bad he wasn’t wearing his actual suit; it would’ve protected him from Rena’s over-enthusiastic bonks.  But most of them were wearing their disguises so that their kwamis could have a tea party on the coffee table. Rena was the only exception, since she was using Mirage to mock up different decoration designs for their wall.

“You insulted my photographs.  That’s an attack on my honor.”  Rena strapped her flute to her back before detransforming.  Apparently she realized that they weren’t going to agree on anything anytime soon.

“I just said that maybe we should have some other decorations too.  If you won’t let me put up my XY poster, I don’t think you should get dibs on the whole wall.”

Rena’s last Mirage still covered the wall in a collage of photo frames. The illusion only dissipated when Carapace scrubbed at it with his palm.

She rolled her eyes.  “My photos actually have talent behind them.  XY’s nothing more than an art thief.”

“Is not!  I heard he’s turned his career around.  His new album is full of bangers.”

“If my ‘banger’ you mean ‘makes me want to bang my head against a wall,’ then yeah.”

“Why don’t you do that instead of banging me on the head?” 

“Seriously.”  Marinette sighed. All this arguing was giving her a headache.  “This secret base is meant to promote team unity.  If you guys can’t agree on decorations, then we’ll just have to leave the walls blank.”

Rena snorted.  “Okay, mom.”

Marinette stared.  Had she really just said that?  Rena was usually on her side—maybe it was the whole hero worship thing—so her sarcasm barely computed.

Rena stiffened, as if just processing what she’d said.  “Uh—I mean—”

Chat’s cheeks were puffed out with laughter.  Marinette glared at him.

Go on.  Laugh.  I dare you.

He did.  Loudly.

“For that, I vote Rena gets at least two-thirds of the wall.”  Chat grinned insufferably.  

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”  Marinette pouted, though it was hard to resist laughing along with him.  “This is mutiny.  I’m gonna make you all walk the plank.”

“Arrrrg, walk the plank!”  Trixx echoed from the table.  Then he clinked his tiny cup with Wayzz.

“The floor is made of stone, though.”  Wayzz frowned.

“It’s an expression,” Plagg explained.  His cup was full of liquid cheese—he’d insisted that Chat melt it in the microwave for him before they’d begun decorating.  Or, well, trying to decorate.

“You’ve been hanging out with Trixx too much,” Rena said to Marinette.  “Pirate jokes are our thing.”

“Well, that’s what you get for mutiny.”  Marinette nodded.  Not the best comeback, but it would do.  “There are four walls.  It shouldn’t be difficult to split the decorating room.”

“Only one of them really has decorating room, though,” Chat pointed out.  “Between the kitchen side of the room, the two doors, the storage cubbies, the TV…”

She knew that already, but it was worth trying to convince them.  It wasn’t like she cared too much about her own decorations, even if it would be nice to hang some fairy lights, and maybe a few sketches of suit redesigns…

“The kitchen wall doesn’t even count.  The fridge and cabinets take up all the room,” Rena said.

Carapace crossed his arms.  “Just put your photos up on the fridge.  Problem solved.”

She punched her fist into her palm.  “You want another bonk, Shell Boy?”

Marinette rubbed her temples, then left them to go sit on the couch.  It wasn’t far enough away to escape the arguing, but short of camping out in the bathroom, she wouldn’t find a quiet place in the base.

“Need a drink?”  Tikki asked, flying up to her with a spare tiny teacup.  A few drops of milk sloshed over the edge.

“I might need something stronger than that.”  She sighed, but still downed the shot of milk.

“Too bad.  I’m not sharing.”  Plagg hugged his cheese cup closer, and she laughed.

The room went suspiciously quiet.  Her laugh hung in the air eerily.

“Guys?”  She craned her neck to look over the back of the couch— 

And Chat Noir plopped into her lap.

Her brain was too busy fizzling for her to protest.  Lap.  Full of Chat.  He was warm, and surprisingly soft, and heavy.  And—why was he sitting on her?

“Am I invited to the tea party?” he asked Plagg. His cheeky grin leaked into his voice.

“What are you doing?”  She shifted, trying to see around him.  

The other kwamis were stifling laughter—geez, even Tikki was laughing!  This was more than mutiny, it was—it was super mutiny.

...Okay, maybe she should leave the pirate jokes to Rena and Trixx.

“Did you hear something?”  Chat’s head tilted.

“You better hear me kicking your butt!”  She tried to jab him in the ribs, but his weight pinned her arms back against the couch.  Without her suit, she wasn’t strong enough to shove him off.  Embarrassing.

“Hear what?”  Plagg asked.  “The sweet serenade of cheese is the only song for me.”

“This is how I die,” she sighed dramatically.  “Squished by my own partner—hey!”

She blinked as a bright flash went off.  A camera?  What— 

“Rena!”  She shouted at the other girl, who was cackling as she looked at her camera.  “You’re in on this too?”  

Whatever this was.  All of her friends seemed to have gone crazy.  Was the stress of being full-time heroes getting to them?

Carapace held up his arms.  “I tried to talk them out of it.”

“Don’t lie to her.  You wanted to see if Chat could get away with it too.”

“Get away with what?  I’m just joining a nice little tea party with our nice little friends.”  Chat picked up the teacup she’d drunk out of, refilled it with milk, and downed it in a gulp.  Well, tried to—he coughed about half of it back out.  “Ugh, what is this?  Cheese?”

“Uh, it’s two percent,” she replied from beneath him.  At this point she’d resigned herself to her fate.  She definitely wasn’t enjoying this.  Nope.

If she wiggled her arms out and draped them loosely around his waist, well, it was just more comfortable than having them squished against the cushion.

“Blegh.  You guys have any skim?”

“Skim?”  Rena gaped.  “You might as well be drinking water!”

“And what’s wrong with that?”  Chat frowned.  “I happen to be made of 60% water.”

“We have grape juice,” Tikki said, offering him a new cup.  

Despite them having a “tea party,” their rough kitchen didn’t have a kettle, and Wayzz refused to drink tea brewed in the microwave.  So milk and juice were the only beverages paired with their kwami-sized macarons.

“Thanks.”  Chat stroked Tikki’s head with two fingers before taking the cup.

“Traitor,” Marinette grumbled at her kwami.  Tikki just shrugged sheepishly.  She had too much of a soft spot for Chat.

“This tea party would only be better if Ladybug were here.”  He sighed wistfully and patted the upholstery next to her leg.  “This couch reminds me of her.  Polka dotted and beautiful.”

“Wait a second, are you—are you pretending I blend into the couch?  I’m not even suited up!”  She was wearing her green hoodie, the one that reminded her of his eyes.  Though she might take it off in light of him being a mutinous traitor.

He gasped dramatically.  “Ladybug!  There you are!”  He turned sideways, still sitting in her lap but stretching his legs out across the couch. “I thought I’d lost you forever!”

“You’re such a freaking dork.”  She rolled her eyes.  “Grab me a macaron.”

He obliged, passing her a tiny rose-flavored one.  Another flash went off.

“Please, I know we’re Paris’s most photogenic couple, but save the photography for our public appearances.”  Chat winked at Rena.

“For the last time, we’re not a couple.” 

The denial probably would’ve had more effect if he wasn’t sprawled across her lap.  But still.  They were perfectly platonic partners, sharing a perfectly platonic couch.  Nothing weird about that.

“Well, if you’re not a couple, you won’t be embarrassed if I hang this up on our wall.”  Rena grinned.

Her jaw dropped.  “Don’t you dare.  Carapace, delete that.”

“No, don’t!”  Chat clasped his hands beneath his chin.  “You’re my bro, right?  You wouldn’t let them get rid of the evidence of my lady’s love, would you?”

Carapace’s head swiveled back and forth between them.

“He’s not your bro.  He told Rena you deserved to have your head bonked.”

“Bapped, actually,” Rena corrected.  “Doesn’t matter, though.  This camera has wifi capabilities.  I’ve already emailed it to myself, backed it up, and duplicated it five times.”

“Five? Isn’t that a bit excessive?”  She asked.

Rena laughed.  “Girl, you don’t know how many times my clumsy friend has deleted my photos.  Five is barely enough.”

Was Rena’s friend going to go through her photographs?  Were they going to end up on the Ladyblog?  Not only would that be embarrassing, it would also expose their secret hideout.

“You can’t post those anywhere.  You know that.”

“I can post them right here,” Rena pointed to the space next to their storage cubbies,  “on these boring walls.”

“You can’t take them to get developed.”

“Girl, I’ve got my own photo printer.  I’m not an ameteur.”

“You…”  Dang.  She couldn’t argue with that.

And Chat was purring now, which distracted her from whatever point she might’ve made.

“I wouldn’t mind giving Rena’s photos more space if they’re pictures of all of us,” Carapace spoke up.  “That would be pretty cool, actually.”

Chat grinned.  “I’m down for that.”

Marinette couldn’t argue with that, either.  Mostly because the suggestion had finally gotten them to stop arguing.  Plus, taking team photos might help them bond, too.

“Alright.”  She sighed.  “But they don’t leave this room.”

“Awesome!”  Rena cheered, then came over and squished in next to Chat.  “Get over here, Turtle Boy.  We’ve gotta commemorate this occasion.”

Carapace shook his head with a chuckle, but he perched on the armrest on the opposite side from Rena.

“Come on, get closer.  You’re not in the frame.”

He sighed and lifted Chat’s legs so that he could sit under them.  “Better?”

Rena nodded.  “Alright, smile and say Rena Rouge is the coolest superhero!”

“Hey—!” Carapace was in the middle of protesting when she pressed the button.

The bright flash left Marinette blinking again.  She hadn’t been ready, but Rena still smiled at the back of the camera like it was from one of Adrien’s photoshoots.  Well, like she was Marinette looking at one of Adrien’s photoshoots.

“Perfect!”

“I wanna see.”  Chat tugged her arm over so he could look at the camera.  Then he burst out laughing.  “Perfect.”

Marinette craned her head, though it was hard to get close with Chat still squishing her.  She managed just a brief glimpse at the tiny screen.  The kwamis hadn’t shown up, of course, even though Plagg was perched on Chat's shoulder and Wayzz had been grinning next to Carapace.  All Marinette could tell from her glance was that her mouth had been half-open, and Chat’s mask was slipping down his nose.  So much for “Paris’s most photogenic couple.”

But… maybe that was perfect.  They weren’t the city’s flawless akuma-fighting machine, not here.  And they didn’t have to be.

Here, they could just be home.

Chapter Text

Stars swirled around Alya.  She stepped through the abyss, nearly tripping over the invisible coffee table.  That was an unfortunate side effect of an illusion that turned the secret hideout into outer space.

But still not as unfortunate as watching Chat Noir get sucked into a black hole for the eleventh time.

She groaned before blowing a few notes on her flute to reset the illusion.  Ladybug to her left, calling up her Lucky Charm.  Carapace slightly behind, ready to call up a Shellter.

Chat Noir in front, flying towards the akumatized villain.

“Cataclysm!”  he shouted, just as he had in the fight earlier today.  His outstretched hand reached for Space Cadet’s “helmet,” which had turned out to be a fishbowl.

The poor kid had just wanted to dress up as an astronaut for his school’s career day.  He’d been akumatized when a classmate made fun of his homemade space suit.  Alya couldn’t blame him any more than she blamed any other akuma victims.

Maybe making an illusion of Hawkmoth to beat up would be more cathartic than reliving this same disastrous battle over and over again.

She froze the illusion with Chat’s hand mere centimeters from Space Cadet’s helmet.  She knew what happened next.  What she didn’t know was how to prevent it.

Could she have used Mirage to make Chat invisible?  No; he’d leapt in too quickly, and Space Cadet would have been able to calculate his trajectory.  And Carapace couldn’t have cast Shellter over him—well, he could have, but it would’ve been useless.  The whole spherical shield would’ve been sucked into the black hole.

It wasn’t a real black hole, of course—Hawkmoth couldn’t give his victims that kind of power.  It had been a child’s idea of what a black hole was like.  More like one of Pegasus’s portals, if those portals had their own gravitational pull.

Real or not, though, it had still made Chat Noir disappear.

She unpaused the illusion and propelled herself towards Chat.  The boosters on her space powerup weren’t strong enough.  She knew they wouldn’t be.

Insanity was trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results.  But she couldn’t bring herself to give up.

Space Cadet tapped his helmet, and that horrible black hole opened behind Chat.  Alya’s stomach lurched at the look of horror on his face as much as from the shifting gravity.

Her illusion hadn’t created that on its own.  It was burned into her memory.

In the illusion, Ladybug screamed her partner’s name.  Carapace gasped, water welling in his eyes, reflecting the light of the stars.

Too much.  It was too much.

A thud echoed from behind her, and she jumped.  That wasn’t part of the illusion.

She spun to find Ladybug standing in the doorway.  She wore a fake mask, orange leggings, a white tank top… and a terrified stare.  The carton of milk she’d been holding lay overturned on the floor, leaking onto her black flats.

“Reality!”  Alya shouted.  The illusion faded to smoke as she rushed to Ladybug’s side.  “Oh my gosh, did you see all that?”

She’d messaged Ladybug earlier to check on her, but had never received a response.  She hadn’t expected her to actually show up after that.

“I… yeah.”  Ladybug swallowed.  In civilian clothes—especially ones splattered with milk—she didn’t look like the confident leader Alya was used to.  

Of course, Alya would still trust her with her life.  But she was also a girl who’d lost her friend today.  Even if the miracle cure brought Chat back every time he died, that couldn’t completely erase the grief or fear that she felt.  If Alya had been scarred by that moment, how hard had it been on Ladybug?

“I’ll get you a new carton of milk,” Alya said stupidly.  She could give better comfort than that—specially since she’d just made Ladybug relive that traumatic moment.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ladybug replied.  While still standing in the white puddle.

“I’ll clean that up then.”  She went to the kitchen area for a towel, then returned to sop up the mess.  The carton of milk was still half full; it was probably salvageable—which wasn’t important right now.  

“Come on, sit down.” Alya took Ladybug by the hand and led her to the couch.  She didn’t resist, though her pace was slower than Alya was used to.

Ladybug tucked her legs beneath her on the couch.  Sitting like that, she looked so small.

“Do you want to talk about it?”  Alya asked.

She was silent for a moment.  That was alright.  If she didn’t want to talk, Alya wouldn’t push her.  Maybe just having some company would help— 

Ladybug burst into tears.

Ladybug can cry?  A stupid thought; of course she could.  And of course she would, after everything she’d been through today.  Just because she was strong enough to carry all of Paris on her shoulders didn’t mean she wasn’t human.

Alya wrapped her arms around her and rocked slowly back and forth, the way she sometimes did when Marinette was upset.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said softly.  “I know it doesn’t feel that way right now, but Chat’s alright.”

“I know,” Ladybug murmured through the tears that dripped warmly onto Alya’s shoulder.  “He’s always okay.  He doesn’t know how it feels to watch him…”

“Yeah.”  Alya rubbed her back.  “I know.”

Ladybug pulled back suddenly.  Then she blinked, as if seeing Alya for the first time.  “You do know. I—I’m so sorry.  This is the first time you’ve watched Chat—and he’s done this twenty-four times, I should be used to it—”

“Ladybug.”  Alya put her hands on her shoulders, trying to ground the other girl.

Not the other hero.  The other girl.  Because when it came down to it, they were just two girls, trying to stand between their friends and destruction at Hawkmoth’s hands.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she went on.  “Watching your partner disappear doesn’t sound like something you just ‘get used to.’  I’m here for you, girl.”

Ladybug’s lips twisted into a smile, making her eyes crinkle and drip the last of her stubborn tears.  They soaked into the thick fabric of her mask.

“Thank you, Rena.  Really.”  She sniffed, then winced.  “And, um… sorry about all the snot.”

Alya couldn’t help laughing.  “You know, I could probably wipe it off with a tissue and sell it for hundreds of Euros.  ‘Authentic Ladybug snot.’  Someone would buy it.”

It was a stupid joke, one she probably should’ve saved for Chat, or maybe even Carapace.  But Ladybug giggled back.  Maybe she really was more like the other heroes than Rena realized.

“I bet Rena Rouge’s snot would go for a lot, too.”

“Then I’ll be sure to return the favor sometime.”  She winked.

“I’d be honored.”

They sat in silence for a bit, Ladybug sipping straight from her dented milk carton, Alya just steadying her breathing.  It was easier to be strong when someone else needed her, even though Chat Noir’s sacrifice had shaken her too.  If Ladybug hadn’t come in, would she still be rewinding that battle, searching for an answer that didn’t exist?

“What were you doing earlier?”  Ladybug finally asked.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt…”

“No, you didn’t!  I was just practicing with my Mirage.”  She could’ve left it at that.  Ladybug probably wouldn’t have pried, but it didn’t feel right to withhold the whole truth.  “I wanted to see if… if there was anything I could’ve done differently today.  To protect Chat Noir.”

Ladybug shook her head.  “Those ‘what-ifs’ can consume you if you’re not careful.  Not that you’re not being careful!  And obviously practicing is great.  I mean, you’re already so good at your Mirage, it’s not like you need it—”

Alya chuckled.  “It’s okay.  I know what you mean.”

“Right.  Right.”  She took another shuddering breath.  “It’s weird for me.  I know you’ve been a permanent part of the team for over a month now, but it’s still easy to forget I’m not alone anymore.  Not that I was ever really alone, because I had Chat, but he can’t understand what it’s like to… to not be able to save him.”

Her arms wrapped around herself.  Alya scooted closer again, placing her hand on Ladybug’s knee.  A month ago, she would’ve been so overwhelmed with excitement at being close to her hero that she would’ve been useless.  

Ladybug wasn’t just a hero or an inspiration anymore.  She was her friend .

Carefully, Alya unwrapped Ladybug’s arms and placed them around herself instead.  No friend should feel alone when she was around.

“You do save him,” Alya insisted once Ladybug had relaxed a little.  “Every time you keep fighting, every time you win, you save him.”

“But what if we don’t win?”  She looked up, her blue eyes wide.  “If I ever make a mistake, it’s game over for all of us.  Don’t you ever worry about that?  Now that you know I’m just a normal girl beneath the mask…”

“Girl, you’re anything but normal.”  She met Ladybug’s eyes.  “I may not know your name, but I know your heart.  And you’ve got a heart that never gives up, no matter how bad things look.  That’s what makes you truly miraculous.”

Ladybug’s eyes were watering again, but this time, she smiled.

“You’re really good at this whole motivational speech thing.  Why aren’t you the team leader?”

“Because you’re the one with the big brains, silly.” Alya laughed and lightly flicked Ladybug’s forehead.  “No one figures out how to take down akumas like you.  Plus, I don’t have as much job experience.  I hear you have to work here for at least a year before qualifying for any promotions.”

Ladybug bit her lip.  “And… you do plan to stay for that long?”  

Alya’s brow furrowed.  What was that supposed to mean?  She wouldn’t give up Trixx for anything, even if her grades had taken a hit because of it.  If Hawkmoth won, she’d have to kiss her education goodbye, anyway.

“I’m not moving out of Paris, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, I mean… I was afraid that after today, you and Carapace might have second thoughts about being full-time heroes.  This was the most difficult battle we’ve faced since having you on the team.”

“More difficult than Hero’s Day years ago?”  She snorted.  “I’m not bailing on you, girl.  We’re a team.”

She held out her fist.  That action would speak louder than words.  After all the villains they’d faced together, it meant more than a simple good job—it was a symbol that they’d survived.

And together, they’d survive again.  

“Heh.  I should’ve known you were tougher than that.”  Ladybug smiled and bumped her fist against Alya’s.  “Thank you, Rena.”

“Any time, Ladybug.”

Chapter Text

“Dude, all I’m saying is that you should talk to us,” Carapace said after chasing down Adrien for the fourth time. He didn’t even look out of breath, despite Adrien’s path taking them across several hard-to-reach rooftops.  One leap had even required Carapace to swing sideways from a lamppost, then launch himself diagonally up to the apartment complex.  He really was a legend when it came to superhero parkour.

Of course, Adrien hadn’t been trying to challenge Carapace this time.  He’d been trying to escape.

“Best five out of nine?”  Adrien grinned and crossed his arms over the tip of his baton.  He could at least pretend this was all a game.

It was easier than remembering how dangerous his life really was.

Carapace didn’t take the bait.  “I’m serious, bro.  Wasn’t the whole point of making a secret hideout and a secret Discord server to make the team communicate?”

Geez, he sounded like Ladybug.  There was a reason his Lady had voted to bring Carapace onto the team, while Adrien had picked Rena.  Granted, Rena had also DM’d him to ask if he was alright, so maybe they were all too alike.

He should be happy, shouldn’t he?  He had friends who cared about him, who could understand what it was like to face akumas.

But they couldn’t understand what it felt like to… to die.  He hoped they never had to.

“I do communicate.” He forced a grin.  “I sent Ladybug eleven cat memes yesterday before she told me to stop spamming.”

Carapace didn’t grin back.  He didn’t even crack a smile.  Adrien had never seen his amber-brown eyes look so cold.

“Chat Noir.  We saw you die.”

He flinched, squeezing his eyes shut.  Wrong move.  The darkness opened back up—he swore he could feel it sucking him in, crushing his atoms down to a single point— 

“Sorry.  I suck at this, don’t I?”  Carapace ran a hand down his face.  “Can’t say I’ve ever tried to cheer someone up after they died before.  Maybe you were right to ignore me.”

“No, I wasn’t.”  He sighed.  “You’re just trying to help.  But it’s okay—I’ve died plenty of times.  We’re heroes.  It’s an occupational hazard.”

“Hey.”  Carapace poked him in the chest.  “Don’t distract me with How to Train Your Dragon references.” 

Adrien cracked a smile.  “You like How to Train Your Dragon?”

“Of course.  The Hiccup-Toothless bromance is legendary, the OST is to die for, and—what did I just say?”  He smacked his forehead.

“Sorry.”  This time Adrien sobered up.  

No one had ever been around to talk about his… his deaths before.  Except Ladybug, but he wouldn’t put that on her.  It crushed her every time he sacrificed himself, even when it was unavoidable.

Which it was.  Ladybug had been too exposed while calling her Lucky Charm.  If he hadn’t distracted Space Cadet, the villain would’ve sucked her into a black hole instead.

Except… he wasn’t the only one who could provide a distraction anymore.  Rena could’ve used an illusion.  Carapace could’ve thrown his shield.  But reflexes ingrained over years of akuma battles didn’t fade easily.

Protect Ladybug.  No matter what.

“For real though,” Carapace murmured when Chat remained silent.  “I can give you space, if you don’t wanna talk.  I just hate seeing you like this, dude.  You... remind me of a friend of mine.”

Adrien looked up.  He hadn’t even realized he was staring off into space.

(Space.  Maybe he would’ve made a pun about that, if he wasn’t so sick of it.)

“You have another friend who parkours around Paris at night?”

Carapace snorted.  “I wish.  At least that would let him get out of his apartment.”

Huh.  Maybe Adrien was like Carapace’s mystery friend.

“He does this thing too.  Pretending he’s okay when I know he’s hurting.”

What did Carapace want him to do?  Break down every time he got hurt?  He was stronger than that.

So why did he flinch when the streetlight below flickered out?

“It’s okay to not be okay, man,” Carapace whispered.

It wasn’t, though.  Not for him.  Not when his father had the expectations he did.  Not when Adrien would just be written off as too emotional.

But Carapace wasn’t his father.  And Adrien… didn’t have to be Adrien right now.

He sunk down to the roof.  His staff shrunk, clattering on the shingles beside him.  And after that… after that came the wave of emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to face.  

His throat clogged up.  Too hard to breathe.  Too much like being trapped in space, his helmet cracking, his oxygen fleeing in the brief moment before his bones were crushed.

“Bro!”  Carapace crouched beside him, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

“Sorry,” he said through his useless tears.  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Hey.  Don’t worry about that.”  Carapace pulled him tighter against his side.  “Just let it out.  That’s what they tell us in the Akuma Prevention classes.”

“You…” Adrien sniffed, “you’ve taken Akuma Prevention?  But you’re, like, the chillest guy I know.”

Carapace shrugged.  “Doesn’t mean you can’t get caught off guard, you know?  Especially being heroes and all, I figured it wouldn’t hurt.  Me and my girlfriend go every two weeks, just to learn mental health tips and stuff.”

“And they said it was a good idea to let it out?”  Adrien’s brow furrowed. “Wouldn’t that make it easier for Hawkmoth to sense your emotions?  If you pretend everything’s fine…”

“Then it eventually explodes out of you like one of Rena’s burps.”

Adrien gave a real laugh at that.  They’d all been surprised to hear Rena belch so loud after Carapace challenged her to a soda-drinking contest.  There was a reason he only brought Capri Suns now.

“Really though.  The best time to let out all those bad vibes is when you’re with your guys.  And me, Rena, and Ladybug?  We’re your guys.”

Carapace smiled down at him.  Even while sitting, he had a couple of inches on Adrien.  Pretty unfair, considering how tall Adrien’s father was, but right now it was strangely comforting.  Carapace didn’t need Shellter to protect him.

“I… thanks, Raphael.”  He grinned back.

“Raphael?”  Carapace pulled back, offended.  “Dude, if you’re giving me a ninja turtle nickname, at least pick Mikey.”

“Is that the purple one?”  They all kind of blended together.  He’d been more of an Power Rangers kid than a TMNT kid, though he’d watched more anime than either of them.

“Is that the purple one,” Carapace scoffed.  “He’s orange.  Donnie’s purple.”

“Oops?”  Adrien shrugged sheepishly.

“We live in a sewer.  Knowing and stanning the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is not optional.”

“Noted.”

Carapace scratched the top of his head.  “I, uh… that’s not important right now, though.  We were talking about you.”

It was important.  Times when he could just joke with his friends… that did more to heal him than dwelling on the darkness.

“I’m feeling a lot better now.  Pawmise.”  He gave Carapace a genuine smile.

“Really?”  He blinked.  “That worked?”

Adrien laughed at the surprise on his face.  “It’s like you said: you’re one of my guys.  You send those bad vibes packing.”

He was pretty sure Carapace flushed, though it was hard to tell with the streetlight out.  Adrien didn’t mind the dark as much right now.

He’d died today, sucked into that darkness.  But his friends had been there to bring him back.  Maybe next time, it would Carapace or Rena who fell—and that thought was even more terrifying.  

But if it did come down to that, he’d bring them back.  

“Hey, Mikey.  I know one thing that would make me feel even better.”

“What?”  Carapace asked.

Adrien jumped up, grabbing his staff as he did.  

“Kicking your butt at Super Smash Bros.  Last one back to the base is a stinky sock!”

Chapter Text

“Boy you got my heartbeat runnin’ away, beating like a drum and it’s coming your way…”

Alya matched the moves of the dancer on screen, but unfortunately, she knew the routine for Nicki Minaj’s “Super Bass” like the back of her hand.  Neither the dance nor the song could drown out her frustration.

Maybe she should’ve taken Carapace’s offer and swapped patrols this week.  If Nino wasn’t going to clear his schedule for their date night, then she didn’t see why she should bother.

“Can’t you feel that boom badoom boom, boom badoom boom bass, you got that super bass…”

She should’ve known better than to play Just Dance.  All she could think of was the way Nino would exaggerate the moves when she was having a rough day, sacrificing his high score to cheer her up.

“Come on, Alya! I know you can do better than that!”  Trixx called.  Her kwami danced in the air alongside her, though he didn’t hold a Wii remote.  He’d tried once before and almost chucked it through the TV.

“Sorry, Trixx.”  She tried to put more energy into the dance steps, but just ended up missing the gold move. What did it matter, anyway? It wasn’t like she had Nino to compete with.

Though when the song ended, she did notice that Carapace’s name was ranked higher than hers.  The Wii belonged to him, so she couldn’t be too surprised, but she was used to taking first place against anyone but Nino.

I guess that’s what I can expect when I don’t give it one hundred percent.

She flipped through the songs idly, but nothing else caught her eye.  Even one-upping Carapace didn’t sound that fun tonight.

“I’m not going to just sit and sulk,” she muttered.  There were plenty of things she could do without Nino.

“Uh-huh.”  Trixx flew in front of her face.  “And that’s why you’re crossing your arms and sulking?”

She snapped her arms back to her sides.  “Alright, wise guy.  Do you have any big ideas for what we should do?”

He rubbed his chin with a tiny paw.  “We could play Mario Kart, but I’d beat you too easy.  There’s nothing really good to cook… what about a rooftop run?  That tends to cheer you up.”

“And risk running into Carapace after I told him I was busy?”  She snorted.  She probably shouldn’t have even come to the base tonight, but she’d hoped she might see Ladybug or Chat Noir.  Ladybug owed her a manicure, and Chat always had a way of bringing life into a room.  Either of them would’ve made her boring Tuesday evening a little brighter.

Knock-knock-KNOCK.

Alya blinked, sharing a look with Trixx.  “You didn’t call one of them for me, did you?”

“You know I can’t do that, Captain Alya.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep it down,” she said while slipping on her orange mask.  “Don’t want Ladybug or Chat Noir to—”

But it wasn’t Ladybug or Chat Noir.  Carapace  slumped through the doorway, looking like he’d been hit by a truck.

“You look like you got hit by a truck,” she blurted before her brain could catch up with her.

He just nodded and collapsed on the couch.

“Are you—what happened?”

“Akuma,” he grunted.  “Called Ladybug.  ‘S fine.”

Obviously it wasn’t fine.  There were literal tire marks on his suit. 

“First mate Trixx, Capri Sun.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

While Trixx flew off, Alya dropped the Wii remote—accidentally hitting play on “Super Bass” again—and perched on the armrest next to Carapace.

“Ladybug used the miracle cure, didn’t she?”

Carapace mumbled something incomprehensible.

“Shell boy.  Spill.”

He shimmied his shield from under his back, then pressed one of the hexagonal panels.  It slid open, allowing him to pull out a tiny, spherical Shellter.

Inside was a fluttering purple butterfly.

“Oh my gosh.”  Alya could hardly do more than stare.  Between the butterfly cage and Carapace… Carapace.  “You took on an akuma.  By yourself?”

Surely there’d been news coverage, but she’d left her phone on the kitchen counter.  Besides, normally she was half of the news coverage.

“Ev’ryone else ‘s busy,” he slurred.  “Truck akuma.  Stupid.  Never wanted to figh’ Transformers…”

Trixx returned with the Capri Sun, and Alya stabbed the straw in like she was preparing an IV bag.

“Drink this.  You’ll feel better.”

Carapace still had enough energy to give her a deadpan stare, apparently.

“Jus’ juice.”

“Oh, just drink it.”

It wasn’t like she could do anything else for the boy who’d singlehandedly beaten an akuma.  No Lucky Charm.  No second chances.  Just one hero with more guts than anyone she knew.

He sipped the Capri Sun.  It probably wasn’t easy while he was laying flat on his back like that.  She should’ve considered that before making demands of him.

“I wish I’d brought some Ibuprofen,” she said under her breath.  That would’ve been more useful than a pouch full of juice.  But how often did anyone fight an akuma and not get miraculously healed afterwards?

“Don’ worry about it.”  He forced a smile.  His lip was cracked, dribbling a tiny bit of blood down his chin.  He was lucky to not be bleeding anywhere else… unless his suit or hood were hiding worse injuries.  The suits could withstand a lot, but they didn’t make you invincible.

Carapace’s grip slipped, nearly dropping the akuma’s glowing prison onto the ground.  It wouldn’t matter—normal forces couldn’t break a Shellter—but Alya still caught it just in case.

“Let me take care of this until Ladybug gets here.  You just relax.”

“Relax.”  He grimaced.  “Easier said than done.”

“Well, let me make it a little bit easier.”

She tucked the Shellter under her arm and went to rummage through her cubby.  She’d shoved a small pillow in there, in case of emergencies.  Really she should’ve just brought a full-sized one, but she didn’t want to completely clutter the already cramped base.

“Here.”  Still balancing the Shellter—and refusing to think about the akuma inside—she propped Carapace up and slid the pillow underneath him.  “Better?”

“A little.”  This time, his smile looked less pained.  “Thanks, Rena.  I owe you one.”

“You owe me one?”  She snorted.  “We all owe you, Shelley.  You took down the akuma by yourself, and—why on earth didn’t you call one of us?”

He blinked at her, but otherwise didn’t answer.  Interrogating him probably wasn’t the best idea.  He needed to rest.  Still, her journalist instincts itched to figure out why he’d been so reckless.

He wasn’t reckless.  He was just doing his job—while you were too busy sulking to realize he needed help.

“I’ll be right back,” she assured him, as if he needed the hovering attention.  Then she went to retrieve her phone from the kitchen counter.

Eight unread messages.  Two missed Discord calls. Crap.

Michelangelo: hey is anyone free

Michelangelo started a call that lasted a few seconds.

Michelangelo: Uh

Michelangelo: I know its my patrol tonight but

Michelangelo: tough bad guy

Michelangelo: no pressure or anything

Ladybug: Carapace???

Chat-terbox: omw bro

Michelangelo: nvm everythings fine

Ladybug started a call that lasted 5 minutes.

“Oops.”  Trixx winced as he landed on her shoulder.

Alya thought it was more than an oops, but feeling guilty wouldn’t help Carapace.  Hopefully Ladybug would be here soon.

She settled down beside him on the couch again.  His eyes had slipped closed, the deflated Capri Sun pouch resting on his chest.  Despite the black tire marks scuffing his suit, he finally looked peaceful.

He let out a loud snore when Chat Noir kicked open the door to the base.  Chat’s arms were full of Ladybug, which explained the dramatic entrance.

“Special delivery,” he said with a grin.

Alya looked back and forth between the two heroes, wondering if she should even bother to ask.  In the end she just shook her head.

“Is that Super Bass playing, or am I hallucinating?”  Ladybug’s voice was muffled; her head was buried against Chat’s chest.  That was new.  Were they finally dating?

“Actually, I think that’s the sound of my heartbeat running away for you, my lady.”

Ladybug grunted.  “If I throw up again, it’s gonna be because of that.”

...That was a no to Ladynoir, then.  But that was hardly the most important issue right now.

Alya held out the sphere containing the butterfly.

“Here’s the akuma.  Do your thing, Ladybug.”

Ladybug raised her head, leaving behind a thin sheen of sweat against the leather of Chat’s suit.  Only then did Alya realize how pale she was.

“Lucky Charm,” she murmured.  A box of Tylenol fell into her lap.

“I think that’s for you, my lady,” Chat said.  

“Too bad I can’t use it.  Put me down.”  She patted his chest.  “Need you to Cataclysm that.”

Chat looked from Ladybug to the couch, which was very full of Carapace right now.

“Looks like we need to invest in a bed.”  He frowned.

“What’s wrong with her?” Alya asked.  “Did she get hit by the akuma too?”  If Ladybug had gotten hurt because Alya hadn’t been paying attention…

“Nah, she says it’s just a normal stomach bug.”

Ladybug groaned again, but this time Alya was sure it was from the badly-timed pun.

“I picked her up from campus so she wouldn’t have to swing all the way here,” he finished explaining.  That made sense, though Alya wondered how far Ladybug had walked before Chat carried her.

“And I appreciate that.  Now just set me on the floor so I can get this over with.”

“Alright, as you wish…”

Alya took off her overshirt to at least give Ladybug some sort of pillow.  Then Chat laid her down on the hard stone.

“Are you sure you’re ready?  Don’t want this butterfly evilizing any of us once I break it out.”

Ladybug fumbled for her yo-yo, but managed to unhook it from her waist.  “Pffft. I could do this in my sleep.”

Alya smiled in relief at that.  If Ladybug had the energy to joke, she couldn’t be doing too bad.

“Of course you could, bugaboo. Cataclysm!”  Chat shouted, jolting Carapace awake as he shattered the Shellter.

Ladybug swung her yo-yo— 

And missed by about half a meter.

Crap.

Acting on instinct more than anything, Alya grabbed the yo-yo from her and chucked it towards the purple butterfly.  Would it even work if it wasn’t thrown by Ladybug?

Thankfully, it seemed it would.  The yo-yo snapped open, capturing the insect before it could infect any of them with Hawkmoth’s influence.

“Gotcha,” Alya said with a grin.  

“Whew,” Chat sighed in relief.

“Thanks, Rena.”  Ladybug patted Alya’s calf, since it was the only part of her she could reach.  “I owe you one.”

She shrugged, blushing.  “I actually always wanted to do that.”

She tapped the yo-yo, and the butterfly fluttered out, white as snow.

“Bye-bye, little butterfly,” she whispered before returning the weapon to Ladybug.

“I’m baking you macarons.  When I don’t feel like I’m dying, of course.”  Ladybug grinned up at her weakly.

Alya blushed even brighter under the praise—and the thought of homemade desserts made by Ladybug!—but she still couldn’t help feeling guilty.

“All I did was sit here and miss the whole fight.  If anyone deserves macarons, it’s Carapace.”  She nodded towards the sleeping hero.  “He’s the real MVP today.”

“He really is,” Chat agreed.  “I tried to join him, but by the time I could slip away from Na… uh, the people at my apartment, he basically had it in the bag.  He’s something else.”

“Knew I made the right choice.”  Ladybug smiled, her eyes slipping closed.  “Might need to call in more heroes for nights like this, though… hmm…”

“Why don’t we talk about that after you use the miracle cure?”  Chat prodded gently.

“Oh.  Right.”  She scooped up the spotted Tylenol box and tossed it in the air.  “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Carapace snorted and jolted up straight when the pink ladybugs swarmed over him.

“Sngh?  What—oh.”  His eyes found Ladybug.  “Thanks, dude.”

Alya laughed.  He was fine.  Everyone was fine.

Well, except Ladybug, who looked like she might throw up at any moment.

“I’d better get her home.  As close as she’ll let me take her, anyway.” Chat Noir carefully lifted Ladybug back into a bridal carry.  She must have been really out of it not to make a show of complaining.  “Thanks again, dude.  We’ll make it up to you sometime when LB’s got her strength back.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Carapace sounded embarrassed.  So he hadn’t fought the akuma alone just to show off.  Probably.

Alya helped Chat open the door, since his arms were full again.  He grinned at her in thanks.

“Think you could grab me some actual Tylenol on the way home…?” Ladybug murmured as they left.  Alya couldn’t make out Chat’s response, but she was sure that he’d take good care of his partner.

The base seemed both too quiet and too loud without Ladybug and Chat Noir.  The repeating phrases of “Super Bass” made her wish she’d hit the mute button.  Trixx was dancing to it again, though, so she let it be.

Carapace glanced at the TV and rubbed his head, but he seemed fine now.  Even the tiny cut on his lip was gone.

“Man.  Glad that’s over.”  He chuckled.  “Sorry for scaring you.  I hope you didn’t cancel any plans because of me.”

“Please, my life doesn’t revolve around you, Shell Boy.”  She sat down and bumped her shoulder against his.  “My plans had already fallen through.  You just got lucky I was here.”

Not that she’d done much.  But it was easier to fall into their usual rivalry than to admit how worried she’d been.  Besides, he’d clearly proven he could take care of himself.  She didn’t want him to think she didn’t trust him.

He laughed.  “You’re right.  I’m pretty sure this Capri Sun saved my life.”  He shook the empty pouch, which had fallen in his lap when he sat up.

“Technically, I’m the one who got you the Capri Sun,” Trixx pointed out.  He floated over to Carapace and snuggled into the crook of his neck.

“Thanks, Trixx.” Carapace smiled, scratching the kwami on the head.

Alya rolled her eyes at her kwami, but Carapace did have that effect on people.  They just naturally liked him, in ways that went beyond the magic or miraculous.  He was like a real-life Ninja Turtle.

“You got something to say, Rena?”  He asked innocently.  But she wasn’t fooled.  He knew how cool he was, even if he wasn’t as in-your-face about it as Chat Noir.  That’s why he needed her as a rival.  She wouldn’t fall for his cute face or warm amber-brown eyes.

“Maybe she’s thinking about how to pay you back for your wicked awesome battle tonight,” Trixx said.  “Ooh, I wonder if there’s any videos of it up yet!  Rena, can I see your phone?”

“Sure,” she relented, shaking her head.  Maybe someone had posted a video on the Ladyblog Forums if Nadia’s channel hadn’t snagged any footage.  It would be pretty cool to see what moves Carapace had pulled—if only so she could learn from them and become an even better hero herself.  That was the point of having a rival, after all.

While Trixx tapped on the screen, Alya went to power off the Wii.  

“You were playing my Wii?”  Carapace asked.

Alya raised an eyebrow.  “You did give us all permission.  Just like Chat did with his Switch.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m not mad or anything.  I was just thinking, since your plans got cancelled and my patrol’s over…”  He scratched the back of his neck.

Alya blinked.  Was he suggesting what she thought he was?  Even after she’d missed out on helping him?  (The Capri Sun didn’t count.  It had been from his box in the first place.)

Maybe he just wanted a chance to prove he could out-dance her even after he’d been hit by a truck.

“You think you can show me up?” Her lips twitched into a smirk.  Sure, it wouldn’t be the same as dancing with Nino, but it would still be a fun challenge.

He shrugged.  “I dunno.  You beat me at Just Dance 2023, but 2014 is my jam.”

“Alright then, Shell Boy.  You’re on.”

(By the time Trixx found the news footage, Alya was having too much fun to care.)

Chapter Text

“My lady… are you sure about this?” Adrien whispered, holding the Miracle Box in his lap as gently as he could.  He knew that his claws wouldn’t scratch it, but he didn’t want Ladybug to think that he took her trust—and their soon to be shared responsibility—lightly.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, but last week with Carapace proved it.  I can’t always get here to release the kwamis, and there might be times when we need more heroes than just him and Rena.” Ladybug’s fingers laced together in her lap.  “Plus, someone else needs to know the code in case anything happens to me.”

His eyes widened at that.  The matter-of-fact way she’d said it—did she know something he didn’t?

“Not that anything’s going to happen to me!” She waved her hands quickly.  “It’s just best to be safe.  Besides, you’re here more often than me.  You should be able to access the kwamis in case of an emergency.”

His shoulders, which had tightened at her words, relaxed. “I can’t argue with that.”

“I didn’t figure you would.”  She smirked.  “I’m paw-sitive you’ll make a great co-Guardian.”

Man, he could’ve kissed her right there.  Of course, he could’ve kissed her anytime, anywhere, if she’d let him.  Instead he offered his most grateful grin.

“Then I won’t let you down.  Your trust means everything to me.”

Pink spilled out beneath her mask—her real one.  They’d both come suited up in order to start renovations on the base.  She hadn’t revealed this extra surprise until he got here.

“I know you won’t.  Now do you think you can contain your excitement long enough to memorize the passcode?”

“Right.  Memorization commencing.”

He stared at her hands as she tapped various spots on the egg-shaped box.  There was no pattern to them—and with the box looking perfectly symmetrical, he wasn’t sure how she knew where to start.

He blinked when the box unfolded down the middle.

“Um, I might need to try again,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Of course.  Master Fu gave me plenty of chances to practice before he entrusted me with it.”

Plenty of chances.  She wasn’t going to change her mind just because he was a little bit slow to catch on.  He knew that, but sometimes it was still difficult to remember that Ladybug didn’t hold the same impossible standards for him that his father did.

They ran through the code a few more times, with Ladybug explaining how to find the starting spot.  Apparently it was just a little bit more oval-shaped than the others.

“That’s good enough for now.”  Ladybug nodded when he finally got the order correct (with only a little bit of help).  She pulled the dragon miraculous from its spot and fastened it around her neck.  “Ready to build ourselves a new room?”

He slipped on the snake bracelet, and Sass zipped out.  The kwami shared a smile with Longg; the two of them got along with each other best.  Too bad they’d both be transformed for most of the night.

“What do you say, Sass?”  Adrien held his wrist up next to his face.

Sass’s head tilted.  “I don’t sssay anything.  You say ‘Plagg, Sasssss, unify!’ But you knew that.”

Adrien bit his lip to keep from laughing.  It was easy to forget that some of the kwamis had such little experience with the modern world.

“Don’t worry.  It’s just an expression,” he explained.  “I was just asking if you were ready.”

“Of course!  It’s alwaysssss a pleasure to work with you.”  The kwami bowed his head.

“Right back at you.  Plagg, Sass, unify!”

XXX

Twenty-three Second Chances later, they still hadn’t found a place to build the bedroom without collapsing the ceiling on top of them.  Every time Dragonbug’s sword cut into the stone, the base shook like the epicenter of an earthquake.

Finally, Adrien decided to pull out Chloé’s map.  She seemed to have forgotten about him asking for the sewer layout two months ago, but then again, he hadn’t seen her much since then.  Even if he preferred hanging out with Ladybug and Rena and Carapace—and Nino, Alya, and Marinette when he wasn’t suited up—Chloé was still his oldest friend.  He felt guilty for ignoring her right after needing her help.

“Find anything useful?” Ladybug crossed her arms and leaned over the back of the couch.

He shook his head.  “It looks like we took the last of the useable space for the bathroom. I don’t even think we can carve a hallway that connects to a spot big enough for a bedroom.”

She hummed behind him.  Her breath tickled his ear, and he suppressed a shiver.

“What if we didn’t need a hallway?” she asked.

He didn’t turn around.  If only because he wouldn’t have been able to handle her face so close to his.

“Unless you have a plan to teleport us to—oh.”  He smacked his forehead, and she laughed.

“Kaalki wanted to take you for a spin.  This seems like as good a chance as any.”

He practiced opening the Miracle Box again (Ladybug only had to correct him twice this time), and then he slipped the magic glasses into his pocket.

“We’ll need to carve the other room before we can connect them.” He pointed to a spot on the sewer map.  “How about we try over here?

Ladybug frowned.  “That’s across town.  I guess with the horse miraculous it doesn’t matter, though.”

“I thought it would help if it’s across town.  Then we can have two secret entrances to the base—and if an akuma is on the other side of Paris, we can reach it more quickly.”

“Hmm. Not a bad idea.”  She ruffled his hair, making his leather ears stick straight up.

He quashed a purr before he could embarrass himself.  “I have lots of good ideas, you know.  You just never ask for them.”

“With the way you run your mouth, I didn’t think you would wait to be asked,” she teased.  Maybe she saw the reflection of his pout in the blank TV, because she began petting his hair again.  “Consider this an invitation.  Is there anything else you think the base needs?”

“Anything?”  He asked before he could stop himself.

“Anything reasonable,” she corrected while heading for the door.

He’d argue that building a custom apartment under the streets of Paris hardly sounded reasonable, but it had worked.  It was amazing what you could do with a box full of superpowers.

He folded up the map and stuck it in his pocket with the glasses, then trotted after her.

“Okay, hear me out: I’m picturing a room with a chocolate fountain…”

XXX

“I wish you didn’t have to do this all by yourself,” Snake Noir said as Marinette carved out another section of rock from the wall with her sword.

Sweat dripped down her face.  The cool sewer air didn’t do much when there was no ventilation.  She wiped the back of her palm across her forehead, but the Dragonbug suit wasn’t very absorbent.

Maybe I should just turn myself into Water Dragon.  Then I wouldn’t have to worry about sweat, at least.

She finished her incisions, then stepped aside.  Chat took her place, speaking a tired “Cataclysm” and touching the stone.  It crumbled to dust, which she swept out the “door” with the Wind Dragon power.  It wasn’t a foolproof method—mostly because without Rena, anyone down here could see what they were doing—but no one was likely to be in the sewer at 20:00.  Besides, she had “Snake Noir” keeping an eye out while she did the menial labor.

She eyed the rough-hewn wall, arms feeling heavy in spite of the suit’s bolstered strength.

“This is a big enough room to fit a mattress in, right?”

“No one said we had to finish this all today, Bugaboo.”  Chat set a comforting hand on her shoulder.  “Why don’t I grab us some Capri Suns and we can take a break?”

She pursed her lips.  There wasn’t a rush, not technically.  

And yet.

“I just want to be prepared,” she said, trying to keep her voice strong.  For him.

She’d seen how distraught he looked when she even implied that she could get hurt.  But between watching Chat die for the first time in months, being bedridden for days with a stomach bug, and seeing Carapace bruised and bleeding… it was all too clear that they weren’t invincible.

A little hole in the wall wouldn’t change that.  Still, it was a place that felt safe.  A place that somehow already felt like home.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”  Chat asked, his brow creased in worry beneath the teal-and-black suit.

“What?  No,” she answered too quickly.  He’d see right through her.  It was one of the drawbacks of their six-year-long partnership: she couldn’t hide anything from him.

“Please, Ladybug.”  His arms hovered like he wanted to hug her.  She would’ve welcomed it—except she probably would’ve broken down at his touch.  Better to keep a safe distance.

“It’s really nothing,” she insisted, wrapping her arms around herself.  They were a poor substitute for his, but it would do.  “Just the usual.  Worries about Hawkmoth.  Hoping I can take care of our team.  Feeling like we’re running out of time.”

It was more than she wanted to admit.  She’d loved being partners with Chat Noir for these last six years—but that was also six years that Hawkmoth had tormented their city.  Six years without a breakthrough in defeating him.

“And here I am worried about a stupid hole in the sewer.”  She snorted and shook her head, hoping her mask would hide the tears in the corners of her eyes.

“It’s not stupid.”  He still didn’t hug her, but he did squeeze her shoulders.

“Isn’t it?”  She bit back a bitter laugh.  Everything felt stupid.  It felt like just yesterday that Rena had given her a pep talk, and yet the confidence hadn’t lasted.

Why couldn’t she just trust herself, the way everyone else seemed to?

“There are some things even you can’t fix, little bug,” Chat said softly.  

His eyes drew her in.  They were a few shades different as Snake Noir—and even more shades from the unaltered irises she’d caught beneath masks of cloth.  But no matter how they were disguised, it was always him.  

“It makes sense that you’d focus on what you can control,” he continued.  “You can build a bedroom.  You can train our team.  You can choose people you trust to lean on—and I’m so grateful that you chose me.”  He smiled softly.  “Finding Hawkmoth, or stopping time—those are things nobody knows how to do.”

“Except you.”  She reached up to tap his bracelet.

His hands jerked back, as if he just realized how close he’d been. He rubbed the back of his neck.  “You know what I mean.”

She did.  And maybe he had a point.  At least she hadn’t let her feelings of inadequacy stop her from doing what she could.  Even if “what she could” was just making life a little nicer for her team.

“When did you get to be the smart one?”  She smirked and punched his arm lightly.

“You must have let me borrow the brain cell.”  He grinned back.  “And, uh, I learned a lot of that stuff from my therapist.  He doesn’t know I’m Chat Noir or anything; don’t worry.”

She blinked.  Why was she surprised?  Of course Chat would be in therapy.  Any hero should be, even if she herself hadn’t considered the option.  Still, it was difficult to picture her upbeat partner needing that kind of help.

“Really.  Don’t worry.  I’m doing fine,” he insisted. “Carapace gave me the idea after… uh. Space Cadet.”

She grimaced, but nodded and let the subject drop.  He knew she’d be here when he needed her, and it was comforting to know that a professional was helping him too.

“Sounds like Carapace is a good influence.  And thank you.  I needed that today.”

He gave her a smile so warm she could melt.  “Anytime, my lady.”

She smiled back.  “I think I’ll take you up on that Capri Sun now.”

XXX

After a break at the main base for drinks and snacks with their kwamis, Marinette and “Dark Horse” (leave it to Chat to pick another name even when she was the only one around) used Voyage to return to the burgeoning bedroom.

The room was big enough for a mattress.  Barely.  The queen-sized Lucky Charm spanned the length of the hewn room, though it didn’t fill the width.  She and Chat stood in the half a meter of space left there.  Just enough for the standing lamp she’d conjured, and maybe a dresser.

Would they need a dresser?  This was a bedroom, as in a room for a bed.  Just in case of emergencies.  But having more space for spare clothes would be nice.  She was tired of swapping out the ones in her cubby every week when she did laundry.

Speaking of which, could they fit a washer and dryer somewhere down here?  The machines probably couldn’t connect to the fragile system of extension cords they’d set up.  Which reminded her that she needed to find a nearby outlet, unless she wanted to keep running the cables through the Voyage that Chat had placed between the rooms.  But that portal couldn’t be permanent until Rena camouflaged the bedroom’s entrance.

And how would Rena and Carapace feel about having one singular bedroom?  Should she have gone ahead and built one for the boys, and one for the girls?

“...and I’m thinking I’ll strip naked and start pole dancing—”

Marinette’s head snapped up at Chat’s voice.  “What?”

“Just checking to see if you were listening.”  He grinned cheekily, peering over the top of his black sunglasses.  

Stupid cat.  She did not want to picture that.  Really.  

“You zoned out there for a while.  Missed me describing our perfect wedding and everything.”

Her face heated more, if that was even possible.  “I would’ve rather you just punched me.”

“But that’s way less fun!” 

She rolled her eyes.  “What were you actually trying to tell me?”

“Well, I was going to suggest going to Carrefour for some bedsheets, but maybe you’re better off sleeping without them.”

“I’m not tired.  Just thinking too much, as usual.”  She shook her head.  “Carrefour sounds great.  Let me just write down what we need first.”

She flipped open her yo-yo and began typing out some of the items they’d talked about (other than the chocolate fountain).  Luckily her Lucky Charm had given her the bulkiest things already.

Luckily, she snorted.  Even in her own head she couldn’t escape from awful puns anymore.  Did that even count as a pun?  Or just a lame joke?

Chat leaned over her shoulder to inspect her list.  “Bedsheets.  Pillows.  Standing fan, that’ll be nice.  Plastic drawers, smart, those’ll be easier to carry back here than a whole dresser.  The akuma alert system I mentioned...  Looks like you’ve got us covered, my lady.”

“I’m not forgetting anything?  I feel like I’m forgetting something.”  

Maybe it was just the stress still getting to her.  She’d feel better once the bedroom was properly functional.  Finishing projects, even ones as ridiculous as this, was always therapeutic.

“You already ruled out scented candles, so I’m out of suggestions.”

“I just don’t want us burning down all our hard work,” she reiterated.

“And I still think that rock beats fire.”

“You can’t apply Pokemon logic to everything, kitty.”  She flicked the horseshoe that had replaced his bell as his suit’s zipper pull.

(Though his candle suggestion was tempting.  A nice scent might be relaxing and mask the murky smell of the sewers.)

“Pokemon has never let me down,” he said seriously.  She just laughed.

“Come on and grab your disguise.  I want to get those bedsheets sometime tonight.”

XXX

Their “disguises” were pretty much just their normal clothes layered over their suits.  Marinette had thought about going in just civilian attire, but Chat had rightfully pointed out that someone might recognize their true identities.  It wasn’t likely—particularly not at 23:00—but it was still possible.

She tugged at the bottom of her green sweatshirt.  Even with jeans covering her suit and one of Carapace’s spare caps on her head, she still felt exposed.  Not that it really mattered if the city saw their heroes out shopping, but she was too tired to deal with the attention.

Chat still wore the horse miraculous, which was less conspicuous than a mask.  Probably.  Sunglasses at night might earn him even more strange looks.  But between those and the long mane of blond hair granted by the transformation, he was completely unrecognizable.

She’d returned Longg and Sass to the Miracle Box, opting to just transform with Tikki.  Now she wondered if it would’ve been better to merge with Sass.  No one had ever seen “Snakebug” before, though who knew what kind of suit that transformation would give her.  She might end up with a silly bald cap like Snake Noir.  Only Adrien could pull off the smooth-headed look, and he unfortunately would never use the snake miraculous again.

“After you, my lady.”  Chat’s long hair flopped over his face when he bowed towards the store’s automatic doors.

Automatic doors.  Oh no.

Clearly, she did not think this through.

“Um… you know what, gentlecats first!”  

She pushed him forward, his boots skidding on the concrete.  Even when they were less than a meter from the doors, they refused to slide open.

“I think I’m a gentlecolt right now, but I appreciate your sentiment.”  He grinned at her before stepping towards the doors— 

And smacking directly into them.

Marinette covered her mouth.  “Oh my gosh.  Are you—?”

“Purr-fectly fine, bugaboo.”  He rubbed his nose, which looked a little bit swollen.  The glasses were askew on his face.  “I really thought I’d gotten the hang of this…”

He had issues with automatic doors, too?  Maybe it was a miraculous holder thing.  Tikki had never taken credit for Marinette’s problem with them, but it was comforting to hear that Chat understood.

“We’ll get through it together.  Like always.”

Determined, she stepped up beside him.  The glass remained frustratingly shut.  By now she knew better than to run straight at it, as tempting as it always was.  Instead she knocked on the metal between the glass panes.

“I don’t think anyone’s going to answer.”  Chat squinted over his shades.  No one seemed to be in the store’s entryway.  At least that meant that no one had to see two superheroes struggling to open a door.

Unfortunately, she’d rarely managed to pass through the inoperable gates without outside help.

“Maybe we can pry it open?”  

She dug her fingers into the crack in the doors.  Chat took up the same position mirroring her and nodded.

“Ready when you are, LB.”

“One, two, three—pull!” 

She yanked with all the force her transformation could lend her—and sent the door flying open.

“Hah!”  She punched the air in excitement.  “Take that, stupid door!”

She went to step through— 

And instantly got smushed.  Somehow she ended up falling backwards on top of that, and her head would’ve cracked on the concrete if Chat hadn’t caught her under her armpits.

“I feel like there’s a ‘bug on a windshield’ joke in here somewhere.”  He chuckled while dragging her back to safety.

Her face heated.  He’d seen her embarrass herself worse, but there was still something pathetic about being stopped by automatic doors years after her trip to New York.

“I’m glad Mayura hasn’t thought to make a sentimonster out of these,” she mumbled, getting her footing and rubbing her squished arm.  At least with the suit she wouldn’t have to worry about bruises.

“Don’t give her any ideas.”

Marinette sighed.  “You think there’s any other store open this late?  Somewhere we can actually get inside?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t do a lot of shopping, honestly.  I’ve never even been to this Carrefour before.”  Chat rubbed the back of his neck, forgetting that the extra hair was in the way.

“Really?”  He was always coming to the base with new stuff; she’d assumed he was a shopaholic.  Maybe he bought everything online?

“I know.  It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Not as embarrassing as getting squished by automatic doors,” she mumbled towards the offending barrier.

“Maybe we should wait for someone else to come in or out?”

“I guess.  That’s usually what I do.”  

It might be a long wait at this time of night, but even though her body felt tired, she wasn’t in any hurry to get home.  The early October air was crisp, a welcome change from being stuck inside studying, working on design projects, or even renovating the base.  Maybe Chat could add a couple of windows with Voyage for better ventilation.

Suddenly Chat stood up straight.  He was staring at something through the doors, but Marinette couldn’t make out anyone… no, wait.  There was someone in the reflection— 

“Aly—?”  She spun, her voice cutting off with a strangled yelp.  What was Alya doing at Carrefour near midnight?

Walking hand-in-hand with Nino, apparently.  She was talking and gesturing with her free hand, but she cut off when she spotted Marinette staring like a deer in the headlights.

Don’t recognize me don’t recognize me don’t— 

“Marinette?”

Her blood froze.  She’d avoided recognition as Ladybug, but this was infinitely worse.  How had her disguise backfired so badly?  She still had her mask, but it didn’t matter; Alya already knew and Chat knew and she needed to fix this somehow and why hadn’t she worn the snake miraculous?

Alya let go of Nino’s hand and jogged towards her—until she caught sight of Dark Horse.  Then it was her turn to stare.

“Is this why I never see you anymore?”  She scanned Chat from head to toe.  Surprisingly, a pink blush spilled out from under his glasses.  “Can’t say I blame you.  He looks cute enough, though I didn’t know you were into long hair.  And since when do you wear caps?  If I didn’t know better, I’d say you stole that one from Nino.”

It had been too long since she hung out with Alya.  She’d fix that, if she could somehow get out of this with her identity intact.

“I’m not—you have me confused with someone else,” Marinette said quickly.  “And whoever you think he is, he’s not!”

“Glad to hear the famous Ladyblogger thinks I’m cute, though.”  He gave an effortless wink.  Marinette elbowed him.

“Settle down, catsanova.  She’s got a boyfriend.”

“A really confused boyfriend,” Nino panted when he caught up.  He pushed up his glasses, which had slid down his nose.  “Babe, I think you’ve got the wrong dudes.”

“What do you mean, I—” Alya’s eyes widened as she finally noticed Marinette’s mask.  She smacked her forehead.  “Wow.  Some Ladybug expert I am.  I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you!”

Marinette held back a sigh of relief.  Thank you, Nino.  

“To be fair, we were trying to go incognito,” Chat explained while tilting down his shades.  “Guess we were just a little too successful.”

Alya grinned giddily.  “I can’t believe I’m seeing Ladybug and Chat Noir in disguise!   It’s been ages since I got an interview; would you—?”

“Alya,” Nino said under his breath, “they were trying to come on the down-low.  We should probably leave them alone.  Besides, you just interviewed Rena Rouge last week.”

She slumped, groaning. “It’s not the same.”

“What about Carapace?  He seems like a chill dude.  I bet he’d let you ask him some questions.”

Alya snorted.  “Yeah, he’d love that.”

Marinette’s brow furrowed.  Did Alya have something against Carapace?  Carapace had first appeared when Alya had been trapped in a web by her akumatized sister Nora.  If anything, Marinette would’ve expected her to have a soft spot for the hero.  Maybe he just brought back bad memories of that day?

“I can do a quick interview,” she ended up saying to Alya.  As much as she hated lying, it was probably best to twist a few details so that “Ladybug” seemed more distinct from “Marinette.”  Just in case.  

“Really?”  Alya beamed, already digging her phone out of her purse. “Thank you so much, Ladybug!”

“You can thank me too, you know,” Chat said petulantly.  “It was my idea to come to Carrefour in the first place.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”  Alya smirked and pressed a button on her phone.  “Alright, camera’s running.  So here’s my first question: what are two superheroes doing at Carrefour in the middle of the night?”

Marinette edged closer to the automatic door, hoping Alya and Nino would follow while she thought up an answer.  What should she say?  She couldn’t reveal the existence of the base.  There were plenty of other excuses she could use, but— 

“We’re shopping for bedsheets,” Chat said with another wink.

Marinette’s face flooded with heat.  “Chat!”

“What?  Was that supposed to be a secret?  It’s not like they know why we need bedsheets.”

This was it.  This was how she died.  Why couldn’t the automatic doors have put her out of her misery?  Unfortunately, with Alya and Nino walking alongside them, they all made it into the store with no further issues.

Marinette glared directly into the camera.  “Whatever reason you’re thinking, I promise you are dead wrong.”

Alya’s grin was so wide, it looked like her face might split.  Even Nino was on the verge of laughter.  

“I think you’ll want to clarify for your fans, then,” Alya said.

Marinette turned her glare on Chat.  He’d dug them into this mess, and now he should get them out.  ...Except he was likely to make things worse, wasn’t he.  

“Sorry.  LB will get me back for that later, but it was worth it for the look on her face.”

Oh, she would.  She’d have Plagg fill Chat’s shampoo bottle with cheese.  That would teach him to be so careless on camera.

“Honestly, it’s too fun to mess with you too, Miss Césaire.  You of all people should know Ladybug and I aren’t a couple.  But I’m sure that ship tease will get you a few thousand more views.”

...Okay, that was a pretty good redirection.  But his shampoo was still on thin ice.

“A girl can still dream,” Alya sighed as they turned down an aisle towards the home goods section.  “But you two have kept the official stance on your professional relationship for three years now, so I won’t beat a dead horse.  Speaking of which—is that the horse miraculous I see you wearing, Chat Noir?”

Chat flipped his long ponytail.  “Of course.  I think I make a dashing stallion, don’t you?”

“I’m going to be dashing away from you if you keep this up,” Marinette grumbled.  

She turned aside to grab some pillows from the shelf.  Why did he have to lay on the charm every time they did an interview?  Didn’t it bother Nino that Chat was basically flirting with his girlfriend?  She supposed he wasn’t the jealous type, though, and they both knew that if Alya was ever going to dump Nino for a superhero, it would be Ladybug.

“Let me help.”  Nino held out his hands to accept the pillows.  “Uh, if that’s okay.  I just figure we’ll be sticking around until Alya finishes grilling you guys, and none of us grabbed a cart…”

“Thanks, Nino.”  She smiled and passed off her load.  That freed her to start scanning the selection of bedsheets a little farther down the aisle.  Nino followed, leaving Chat flexing to Alya a few paces back.

“You know my name?”  Nino’s head tilted.

“Uh-of course I do!  A good hero should always get to know the people she protects.”  It was a terrible cover.  Chat would’ve come up with something better.

So much for separating “Ladybug” and “Marinette,” huh?

“Heh.  That’s really cool of you, Lady-dude.”  He smiled.  “I thought you’d just remember me as, you know, the Bubbler or Oblivio.”

Her stomach twisted.  She did remember the Bubbler and Oblivio.  Nino’s akumatizations had both been important memories for her.  One was the first time she’d given Adrien her first (unfortunately unsigned) gift, and the other was when she had…

Her gaze drifted back to Chat Noir.  Nope.  Not thinking about that.

“Well I’m hardly going to go around calling civilians by their akuma names.” She forced a light tone.  

She’d never been akumatized herself—thankfully, considering if she ever was, the city would be doomed.  But it meant that she could never know exactly what Hawkmoth’s victims went through.  What would it be like, to come to yourself just in time to see Ladybug and Chat Noir sharing a fist bump in front of you?  

(Or, in Nino and Alya’s case, seeing the heroes share more than that.)  

Not thinking about that!

She paused for a moment, her hand hovering in front of the array of bedsheets as she tried to retrace her thoughts.  What had been her point again?  Oh, right.

“I think it would be terrible to just remember akuma victims by their lowest moments.”  She turned around to meet Nino’s eyes.  “It was six years ago that Hawkmoth used you to create the Bubbler.  Three for Oblivio.  You’ve done so much since then.”

His eyes widened, and he scratched the back of his neck.  “Uh, thanks, Ladydude, but—how do you know that?  I’m not famous like some of the bad guys you’ve fought.”

“What, you think having twenty-seven thousand followers on soundcloud makes you ‘not famous’?”

He gaped and dropped the pillows.  The other two caught up to them in time for Alya to push his jaw shut.

“I left you alone for two minutes, and you already managed to break him.”  Alya laughed.  Nino turned and gripped her shoulders.

“Babe, Ladybug knows my soundcloud!”

“Uh-huh.  I advertised it on the Ladyblog last month.”

Marinette was about to make a comment about following @lahiffesbeats before that, but Alya’s excuse was probably safer.

“Still!”  Nino’s excitement wasn’t curbed.  “Does Chat follow me too?  I was actually thinking about making a mix for you guys, but, y’know.  Didn’t know if that was your thing…”

Him calling Chat Noir simply Chat threw her off for a moment.  Maybe he’d just picked up on the familiarity from Alya?  But Alya was still professional, even when she worked to make her interviews more dynamic.

“Of course I do!”  Chat grinned, then pushed his face up into Alya’s camera range.  “Stream @lahiffesbeats’ new single Orange Soda on soundcloud, bandcamp, and youtube.  There’s no way you could feel any negative emotions while jamming to that.”

Nino was tearing up while hugging Alya from behind.

“This is the best day of my life,” he whispered.

Alya spun the phone around to get both her and Nino’s faces in the video.  “Well, I’d better sign off before my boyfriend decides to leave me for Chat Noir.  Thanks for watching, and stay connected!”

Marinette felt a lot more relaxed once the phone was safely stored in Alya’s purse.  Sure, she still had to protect her identity, but at least any slips wouldn’t be recorded for later analysis.

Chat slung an arm around her shoulder.  “Did you pick out the sheets yet?”

She slipped out from under his arm, then gently pushed him back by the nose.  “Just because Alya and Nino are cuddling doesn’t mean we have to, kitty.  And no, I haven’t.”

“Worth a shot.”  He sighed before facing the shelves with his hands on his hips.  “Alright.  So, uhhh… wow.  I didn’t expect there to be so many options.”

Oh dear.  He really hadn’t been to Carrefour before, had he?

“I’m pretty sure the mattress the Lucky Charm gave us is queen-sized, so we can at least narrow it down to that.  Why don’t you just focus on picking out a color or pattern that looks good?”

He nodded eagerly.  Once she pointed him in the right direction, he went to work picking up each bundle of sheets and inspecting them.  Even though she’d just said to worry about the color, he took off one of his gloves, feeling the fabric to find which sheets were softest.

“I guess we’d better let you guys finish your shopping,” Alya said, making Marinette jump.  For a moment she’d forgotten her friend was there.  For all her talk about Chat’s eagerness, she was excited too.  This would be like decorating her apartment, only with less landlord-enforced rules like “only one nail hole per room.”

“I hope we didn’t give you too much trouble,” Alya continued.  “And sorry I ended up spending so much more time interviewing Chat Noir than I did you.  I had some more questions in mind, but, well… Nino might have actually fainted if Chat Noir complimented his music again.”

She nodded towards Nino, who was shuffling through muffled electronic music on his phone.  Marinette could hear it spilling from the headphones around his neck.  Was he already getting that mix together for them?  

“No worries.  I know the camera loves Chat.” She smiled.  “I just hope he didn’t tell you anything else embarrassing.”

“Guess you’ll just have to watch and find out.”  Alya winked.

“That’s comforting,” Marinette muttered under her breath, but Alya was already waving and dragging Nino away.  She never had found out what those two were doing here.

“Okay, if you start down at that end, we can meet in the middle.” Chat pointed towards the far end of the bedsheets.  “I’ve narrowed it down to the three softest ones on this side.  But your gloves don’t come off, so you won’t be able to tell…”

His brow furrowed in distress, his right hand still hovering over the last set of sheets he’d tested.  Gently, Marinette took it in her own.

“It’s okay, kitty.  We don’t have to test every set of sheets in the store.  I’m fine with whichever ones you pick out.”

For some reason, his frown grew deeper.  “You shouldn’t settle for something that’s just ‘fine,’ though.  You deserve the softest, coziest bedsheets I can buy.”

“You can buy?” She raised an eyebrow.  “I’ve told you, Chat.  We’re a team.  We can pay for things together.”

Unless he actually insisted on the most expensive bedsheets.  Her money from commissions and working at the bakery over the summer would only go so far.

“You did the heavy lifting to actually carve out the room.  The way I see it, this just makes us even.”

Ugh.  It was too late at night to be having this argument.

“We’ll discuss this later.  For now let’s just decide on the sheets.”

She hadn’t expected finding a pack of bedsheets to be such an ordeal.  After searching through each remaining set, they narrowed it down to five silky sheets that Chat insisted she choose from.  Part of her was tempted to just pick at random, because she’d really rather be sleeping on the sheets than staring at them.

But this meant something to Chat.  So she gave the decision the weight it deserved.

“Really?  Just plain black?”  Chat looked at the package of sheets in her arms.  “It’s classic, but I thought you would’ve wanted red.”

“Black will go with everything,” she explained.  She wouldn’t admit that she’d been thinking about him when she chose them.  “This way you can pick out a comforter you like, and we won’t have to worry about it clashing.”

“Really?”  He grinned.  “Can I pick anything?”

“Anything within reason,” she repeated her warning from earlier that night.  Considering Chat’s idea of ‘within reason’ included chocolate fountains and jet tubs, she probably shouldn’t have bothered.

“Of course, of course!  Come on, let’s go!”  

He scooped up the pillows in one arm.  Then while still holding her hand, he sprinted around to the next aisle over.  

She couldn’t help giggling at his enthusiasm.  He was just like a kid ready to spend his first few Euros of allowance.  Except his allowance must be much bigger than a normal kid’s if he was so eager to drop it on fancy bedsheets.

“We can’t take as long as we did on the sheets, though,” she said as he took in the shelves of comforters.  “I’d like to get home before midnight.”

“Thank you,” he said suddenly, his hand tightening around hers.

She blinked.  “Of course.  I got final say on the sheets, so it’s only fair that you get to choose the comforter.”

“No, I mean—” he shook his head and sighed before trying again.  “This is probably a small thing to you.  But I—I’ve always wanted to do something normal like this.  Go shopping with roommates.  Decorate an apartment with things I actually like.  It’s all sort of… new to me.”

She swore the fluorescent lights flickered at his words.  Or maybe it was just because of the crash of thunder she heard outside.  But at the moment, she didn’t care that they might get soaked on the way home.

“I know that probably sounds stupid.”  He looked away, though his fingers remained laced with hers.  “But I mean it.  Thank you, Ladybug.”

She squeezed his hand back.

“It doesn’t sound stupid at all.  And you’re welcome, Chat Noir.”

XXX

“Do you think they’ll let us back in next time?”  Chat whispered as they were escorted towards the automatic doors.

“I wouldn’t count on it.”  Marinette sighed.  At least Chat had been allowed to pay for their items—though it was his fault they’d gotten kicked out.  If he hadn’t insisted on paying, she wouldn’t have had to race him to the check out.

Though tripping him with her yo-yo into a display of cantaloupes probably hadn’t helped.

The doors opened—probably thanks to the employee leading them out—and the rain hit them in an icy spray.  The woman dashed back inside, leaving them in the cold.

Chat huddled close to her for warmth.  “At least they didn’t realize who we were.  That would’ve been embarrassing.”

The manager probably wouldn’t have kicked them out if she’d known Paris’s heroes were the ones wrecking her store.  But Marinette still agreed with Chat; she’d rather be kicked out than recognized under the circumstances.

“Alright, kitty.  Care to take us back before the rain ruins all our stuff?”

He grinned, not seeming to mind the wet droplets blowing in his face.  The glasses protected his eyes, but she had no idea how he could see.

“Of course, my lady.  What else are noble steeds for?”  

“Oh my gosh.”  She ugly-snorted.  “Next time I’m using Kaalki.  Your horse jokes are terrible.”

“Everyone’s a neigh-sayer,” he sighed.  Before she could groan at the even worse pun, he was spinning his free arm.  “Voyage!”

A teal-rimmed portal opened at the edge of the parking lot.  They quickly jumped in, and Chat closed it behind them.

“I wish I had that power all the time.  Teleporting is way cooler than breaking things.”  Chat shook the water out of his hair, spraying Marinette’s face.

“I have to agree with you there.”  She dropped the shopping bags on the thin strip of floor next to the mattress.  “If I’d had to swing home in this, I probably would’ve splatted against a building.”

“No kidding.”

Chat opened another Voyage leading back to the main base, then divided Plagg and Kaalki.  Plagg remained in the suit, while Kaalki came spiralling out.

“That wasn’t quite the glorious adventure I was expecting.”  She pouted.

“Sorry, Kaalki.  Maybe next time we can go somewhere more exciting.”  He petted her mane with one finger, and she relaxed a little.

“We’d better.  I don’t want to be forgotten in the Miracle Box until you need another ‘toilet.’” She shuddered.  The kwamis had a difficult time grasping human bodily functions, but Kaalki finally understood enough to be disgusted by them.

“No one’s going to forget you.  I promise.  I can let you and the other kwamis out any time now that I’m a co-Guardian.”

Marinette had been letting a few kwamis out at a time whenever she was at the base, but she visited far less often than Chat.  She knew he’d take good care of them.

“Good.” Kaalki gave a sharp nod.  “And remember.  Somewhere glorious next time.”

He smirked at her, then glanced at Marinette over the glasses he still wore.  “You can count on it.  I’ve already got a few ideas.”

That twinkle in his eye told her not to bother with the anything reasonable stipulation this time.  But she guessed just about anywhere was within reason with Kaalki’s powers.

He ducked through the portal to the other side of the base, leaving Marinette alone in the bedroom.  She went ahead and started making the bed while he opened the Miracle Box.

“Only took me two tries this time!” he called.

She couldn’t help smiling.  Making him co-Guardian was definitely the right decision.

She yawned as she pulled the last corner of the sheets over the mattress.  It was tempting to just flop down and pass out right there, but she should at least peel off the extra layer of her disguise.  And probably get a shower.

If she wanted, she could do both of those things here.  And with the storm above, that made the most sense.

There was only one problem.

“Did you plan on staying the night?”  She tried to keep her voice casual when Chat returned to the bedroom.

He shrugged.  “I sleep here more nights than not anyway.  Besides, how else would I try out these new sheets?”

“Right.  Of course.”  She nodded, then stood from where she’d been kneeling on the corner of the mattress.  “I should get going, then.”

His head tilted, his cat-like eyes squinting in the lamplight, then opening wide.  “Wait.  Did… did you want to stay?”

“No, it’s fine!”

“You totally wanted to stay.”  He smacked his forehead.  “I got these nice sheets for you.  I can sleep on the couch.  It’s what I’ve been doing anyway.”

She reached for his hand before he could escape into the other room.  Before she could think through what she was doing.

Before she could talk herself out of it.

“Ladybug…?” He stared at her hand, and she realized she had yet to actually speak.

“It’s a queen size bed.”  She swallowed. “If… if you don’t mind… there’s plenty of room for us to share it.”

It was a simple solution.  Nothing weird about it.

Still, she could hardly meet his glowing eyes.

“I… you’re sure?” he asked breathlessly.

“As long as you don’t snore.”  She kept her voice light.  Nothing weird.  Just two partners sharing a bed in the middle of a thunderstorm.

Geez, she was sure she’d read a crappy romance novel with that exact plot.

“I don’t.  I mean, I don’t think so?  Plagg snores though.  Do you want me to sleep suited up, or…?”

“I can deal with Plagg,” she reassured him.  “You have pajamas, don’t you?  You can wear those and one of the cloth masks.  Might as well enjoy the soft sheets you spent so much money on.”

“R-right!”  A grin split his face.  “I’ll get a shower, too.  Don’t want to get them dirty.  Not that you have to shower!  I mean, you can if you want, your smell won’t bother me—not that you’re smelly—!”

“Kitty?”

“Huh?”

She squeezed his hand and smiled.  “Just go get a shower.”  

XXX

It wasn’t weird.  If anything, it was weird how not-weird it was.  She laid on her side in her pajamas, her back to Chat Noir, a bright red quilted comforter draped across them.

“I take back everything I said,” she murmured as she buried herself deeper in the covers.  “The fancy sheets were worth it.  I’ve never had a bed this soft.”

“Really?”  Chat’s voice was muffled by the pillows and blankets between them.  She could barely hear him over the hum of the fan.

“Is that so surprising?”  She kept her voice quiet, too.  Not that she needed to.  No one could overhear them here. 

“No, I guess I just never thought about it.”  He sounded embarrassed.

She rolled over, though she still couldn’t see his face over the pillows.  He’d arranged them there at her insistence.  She could hardly move them now.

“I don’t get it,” she mused, trying to focus through the haze of impending sleep.  “If you’re so used to fancy bedsheets, why do you come sleep on our couch all the time?”

His shrug jostled the mattress.

“The couch is comfy.”

“Chat.”  She used the last of her energy to prop her chin up on the pillows.  On the other side of the fluffy barrier, Chat’s knees were tucked up against his chest.  It would’ve been cute if he didn’t also look so sad.

He sighed, ruffling the pillowcase, and rolled over to face her.  His untransformed eyes glinted in the light of the tiny electric candle balanced between them.

“You know this place feels more like home than my actual home,” he said softly.  “I wanted to give you the best bed you could have.  But even if we’d gotten the scratchiest sheets ever, even if we’d bought pillows filled with feathers, even if this Lucky Charm mattress was lumpy and hard—I’d still rather be here.” 

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise.  She’d had enough clues about his home life to know it wasn’t ideal, but he’d moved into his own place at the beginning of the semester.  

But he’d also said that this was his first time decorating a home...

“I’m glad to have you here,” she finally replied.  She couldn’t ask the questions she wanted, not without risking his identity.  Especially when their guards were both worn down by exhaustion and the shadows blanketing them.  “Almost as glad as I am to have these silky sheets.”

He chuckled at that.  “What did I tell you. I have excellent taste.”

She hummed, unable to dredge up a good retort for that, with her mind fuzzy as it was.  But she didn’t want to fall asleep yet.  This was… this was something special.  Like a sleepover.  Everyone knew you didn’t just sleep during a sleepover.

Chat’s brow furrowed.  “What’s that look for?”

Her nose had been scrunched, her eyes narrowed as she thought.  Oops.

“Just thinking too hard.  As usual.”

“Mmm.  What about?”

“The kinds of stuff you do at a sleepover.”  Her words were starting to blur together.  Maybe she should try to put the ‘sleep’ in ‘sleepover.’ “Y’know.  Truth or dare.  Ghost stories.  Stuff.”

“...You hate scary stories.  And you banned me from both the truth and dare parts of that game.”

She huffed.  It was his fault for taking her dare to eat gum off the sidewalk seriously.

“You ask me, then.”

He blinked.  “Uh… I think the fact that you want to play truth or dare at two in the morning means I should dare you to sleep.”

“Psh.  Too easy.”  She waved a hand, and ended up knocking the plastic candle into his face.  He picked it up and held it in his hand, making warm red light glow between his fingers.  So weird, that he didn’t have claws in his civilian form.  Just perfectly manicured nails.  Rena should get him to give her a manicure instead of Marinette.

He chuckled. “You’re stubborn when you’re tired.”

“I’m always stubborn.  Besides, you don’t get to dare me unless I pick it.  Now ask.”

“If you insist,” he said, a spark of curiosity flickering beneath his mask.  “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” She grinned widely.  “Hah.  Now you can’t dare me to sleep.”

He gave her a deadpan stare.  Rude.  It was a very clever plan, and he should acknowledge that.  Preferably by laughing his contagious laugh.

“I can ask you anything, though.”  He tapped his lips.  “Though I’m not sure how awake you are.  I might not get a real answer.”

“I’m plenty awake.”  She reached over to flick his bell.  His pajamas—a very flattering Ladybug-themed set—didn’t have one.  Instead her fingernail just brushed his collarbone.

This time he did laugh, so her slip was worth it.  “Sure you are, bugaboo.  But I’ll bite.  If you could have any kwami besides Tikki, who would you have?”

Huh.  She’d expected a personal question that she’d have to make up an obviously over-the-top story to answer.  But even when she was loopy from exhaustion, he respected their identity rules.  

Of course he would.  He’s the best partner I could ask for.  And he knew she’d kick his butt otherwise.

“That’s too easy too.  Horse miraculous,” she answered.  “Teleporting is really nice.”

“I didn’t ask which power you wanted.  I asked which kwami.”  He smirked.  “You couldn’t put up with Kaalki twenty-four seven.”

She pouted. “Probably Wayzz, then.  ‘Cept Carapace would be sad.  What about you?”

“I probably shouldn’t answer that.  Plagg’ll get jealous.”

Plagg and Tikki were curled up in the corner of the room, on a special cat bed that Chat had bought.  Theoretically they were sleeping.  But theoretically Marinette was supposed to be sleeping, too.

“I can’t picture you with anyone else.”  She yawned.  “Plagg’s just like. A tiny You.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  He sounded offended.

“Cat.  Cuddly.  Tries to look big and tough but’s actually a marshmallow.”

Chat spluttered.  “I don’t know where you got that idea, but Plagg is not cuddly.”

She giggled.  That was what he had an issue with?  She’d half expected him to call himself the Vengeful Cat of the Night or something equally un-marshmallowy.

“Alright.  Next question,” she said, holding back another yawn.

“Truth or dare?”

Hmm.  She was probably too tired for either, but you couldn’t have a game of truth or dare with only one truth.

“Dare.”  Maybe he’d dare her to sleep.  At this point, she might take him up on the offer.

“I dare you to cuddle me.”

Lucidity slammed back into her.  The dim electric light suddenly seemed blinding.  The pounding of her heart echoed loudly, threatening to shake the bedroom apart.

“Hahaha, just kidding,” he said quickly, a tense grin on his face.

She swallowed.  And then she said something she hoped she wouldn’t regret.

“That’s too bad.”  She scooted a little bit closer, so the pillows were pinned between them.  “That would’ve been the easiest dare yet.”

His eyes widened.  “Ah.  Uh.  You.  Okaygreatyeah.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that burst from her, too loud for the hushed moment.

“Just so you know, this is a one-time deal.  So we’ll be even for the money you spent on me.”

“It was for both of us.  I’m in the bed too.”  He grinned, though it still looked a little hysterical.  Maybe she shouldn’t have taken up his dare after all.  She didn’t want to break him.

“Shut up before I change my mind,” she murmured, then wiggled her way under the barrier of pillows.

It wasn’t weird.  She cuddled with Chat Noir all the time.  ...Or, well, when she was forced to by an akuma.  Or when she was relieved to have him back after one of his sacrifices.  Or when it was cold on a midnight patrol.  Never before had they cuddled while wrapped in warm blankets, with only thin pajamas between them.

She pressed her back against his chest, and suddenly wondered if she was the one who was going to break.

He was twice as warm and soft as the bedsheets could hope to be.  His arms came to wrap gently around her waist, as if aware of how fragile she suddenly felt.

His sneeze shattered the moment.  Or fixed it.

“You didn’t get a cold from the rain, did you?”

“No.”  He sniffed.  “Your wet hair tickled my nose.”

She laughed quietly.  “Sorry.”

“It’s ok.”  

He hugged her a little tighter, and his nose brushed the nape of her neck.  She jerked, a giggle bursting from her.

Oh no.  

“You’re ticklish?”  She could practically hear the grin in his voice.

“Don’t you dare,” she threatened, “or your cuddling days are over.”

“Nooooo,” he whined, wiggling up until his chin rested above her head.  “Is this better?”

“Mmmm,” she hummed in content.  She’d never been so comfortable in her life.  It would be a pity to fall asleep and miss enjoying it.

Though she shouldn’t enjoy it too much.  Like she’d told him, this was a one-time deal.

“Your turn,” she murmured.  “Truth or dare.”

“I get a turn now?”

“If you don’t want it…”

“Truth,” he said quickly.

Good.

“Do you miss the way things used to be?” her voice came out too small.  “When it was just the two of us?”

His breath caught for a moment.  “Do you?”

Yes.  No.  She didn’t know.  And that wasn’t the point.

“Your truth.  Not mine,” she mumbled.

He paused, his breathing slowly returning to normal, synchronizing with hers.  She would have thought he’d fallen asleep if not for his thumb tracing the back of her hand.

“It’s just the two of us now,” he whispered.  His breath was warm on her damp hair.  “The way I see it, we’re closer than ever.”

Too close, the paranoid half of her thought.

Not close enough, came the thought she forced down.

“You’re right.  It would be silly to miss being a kid again.”

She’d been so stupid as a kid.  All the akumatizations she’d accidentally influenced.  All that time trying to confess to Adrien.  She didn’t miss that.  The attraction she felt for him would never completely go away, but she’d come to terms with the fact that they would never be more than good friends.

Besides, she doubted she could ever feel this comfortable in Adrien’s arms.

She hit that thought over the head with a shovel and buried it.  Stupid magic bedsheets were messing with her head, that was all.

Chat’s hand stopped rubbing hers, and for a moment she was afraid she’d said that out loud.  But no, he was just switching off the electric candle.

“Had enough… truth ‘r dare?” she asked.

“Unless you’re about to let me dare you to sleep, yeah.”  He yawned, and his hand fumbled to find hers again.  She grabbed it and positioned them both so they were comfortable again.

“Fine.  You win… this time.”  

Despite the darkness, the soothing hum of the fan, and Chat’s warmth enveloping her, Marinette couldn’t drift off just yet.  Maybe it was just that she wasn’t used to falling asleep pressed against anyone but Alya, and it had been a while since their last sleepover.  Maybe it was because Plagg did snore.

Maybe it was because she didn’t know what she’d do when she woke up and realized this wouldn’t happen again.

“Hey, Ladybug?” Chat’s voice startled her.  He sounded uncharacteristically timid in the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“Next time, can I be the little spoon?”

She smiled, the corner of her lips brushing the pillowcase.  That would only be fair.

“Sure, kitty.”

Chapter Text

“Don’t drop me!”  Alya whispered to Carapace.

“Maybe if you didn’t make me hold you at such a stupid angle, I wouldn’t,” he huffed back.  His voice was muffled, the only fortunate side effect of the way he was holding her up by her thighs. 

The things she did for a good photo.  

She held out her flute, positioned the camera at the end for an aerial shot of the bed, and…

FLASH.

Oops.

“Rena!”  Carapace hissed, stumbling backwards and nearly tripping through the portal back to the living room.  Better than tripping face-first onto the bed where Ladybug and Chat Noir were sleeping, she guessed.

“Shh!” she said, though it was probably too late.  Chat Noir had already begun to stir at the flash of light.  

His eyes blinked beneath the fabric mask, which had gotten disheveled somehow.  Probably just from sleeping, but considering he was tangled in the sheets with Ladybug… well, she wouldn’t rule anything out just yet.

“Huh,” Chat mumbled before closing his eyes again and burying his face in Ladybug’s hair.

Carapace stood still.  Alya balanced precariously in his arms.  Ladybug let out a loud snore.

“So…” Carapace started before she shushed him again.  She tapped his cheek and pointed back through the portal.  They could talk when they were somewhere Ladybug and Chat wouldn’t wake up and hear them.

Which meant hiding in the bathroom.

“You can put me down now, Shelley.”

Carapace dropped her.  It was only thanks to the suit that she landed on her feet.

“Remind me not to pick the turtle as my noble steed next time.”  She brushed off the front of her tunic.

“Good luck finding anyone else for the job.”  He snorted.  “Did you at least get your photo?”

“Oh!”  She tapped one of the orange bands at the end of her flute, which flipped open to reveal a concave screen.  She held it out so Carapace could see, too.  He’d gone along with her plan; he deserved to see the results.

“Aww,” he cooed like a big softie.  “They look like two little kittens curled up together.”

She giggled.  “They do, don’t they?  They’re even smiling in their sleep.  This one’s going on the wall for sure.”

“Man, I wish I could get a copy.  My girlfriend would kill for a photo like that.”  He sighed.

She could relate.  It would be amazing if she could leak this to the Ladyblog, but there was no way Ladybug wouldn’t figure out it was “Rena” who did it.  Plus, she did respect her friends’ privacy.   Mostly.

If they wanted to be completely private, they shouldn't have fallen asleep in a team base.

“Well, it’s been, uh, fun.”  Carapace rubbed the back of his head.  “I’d love to stay and chill, but I’m hanging out with my little bro today.”

He edged around her, careful not to bump into the shower curtain.  It had a bad habit of falling down, bar and all.  

“You’re busy?  Then what were you doing here so early anyway?”

His eyes widened.  “I… uh… what were you doing here so early?”

“I watched the ladyblog livestream last night and figured Chat and LB must have been doing some renovations if they were buying pillows and bedsheets.”

“Y-yeah!  Me too!”

She squinted at him.  “You were watching the Ladyblog around midnight last night?”

“W-what can I say?  I’m a huge fan of her work.”  He gave a strained smile.

Huh.  She’d be flattered if she believed he was telling the truth.  Whatever he was hiding was probably related to his secret identity, though, so she reluctantly let it go.

“Well, at least you have some taste.”  She smirked and turned to open the bathroom door for him—

“Ow!”

Only to smack it into Chat Noir’s face.

“What the…” he mumbled while rubbing his nose.  Then his eyes locked on hers.  “Rena?”

She hid her flute behind her back, as if that would do anything.  “Uh.  I don’t suppose I can convince you you’re still sleeping, can I?”

He gave her a confused look before noticing Carapace standing behind her.

“Cara?”  He blinked.  “Uh.  Am I interrupting something?”

Alya and Carapace both spluttered.

“No!  I was just—”

“He was just—”

“Leaving!”

“Mirage!”  Alya shouted in panic.  Light exploded from the end of her flute, creating an illusion of herself melting into the floor.

“...Maybe I am still dreaming,” Chat said.  He pulled up his mask just enough to rub his eyes.  “Nope, I still need to pee.  Rena, stop being a puddle and let me use the bathroom.”

She sighed.  “Reality,” she mumbled, walking through the evaporating illusion to follow Carapace out the door.

“Should we make a break for it?” he whispered.

Ladybug wasn’t in the living room.  She might still be asleep.  But it wasn’t like it mattered now; the most embarrassing thing had been getting caught with Carapace in the bathroom.  The photo itself wasn’t meant to remain a secret.

“You can go.  It’s not like you’re grounded,” she told him.  “You’ve got plans, anyway.”

He shuffled awkwardly.  “You sure we won’t get in trouble?  I mean, LB and Chat are pretty chill, but they can be kinda sensitive about people thinking they’re dating…”

“You of all people should know Ladybug and I aren’t a couple,” Chat had said last night.

Alya sighed and flipped open the screen again.  Ladybug and Chat noir looked so peaceful sleeping in each others’ arms.  If they said they weren’t a couple, she believed them.  Teasing them about it was more for fun than because she actually needed them to confess their love.  She knew from experience with Marinette that her influence wasn’t likely to do much.

“I’m just doomed to have romantically challenged best friends, huh,” she mumbled to herself before closing the screen.

She’d keep the photo.  But she wouldn’t print it out just yet.  Her friends had had enough embarrassment for one night.

“Maybe they’re in a QPR or something.”  Carapace shrugged.  “I get kind of ace vibes from Chat.  Or maybe they just don’t want to deal with the attention.  I dunno.  They seem happy, and that’s what matters, right?”

“Right.”  She nodded decisively.  She didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.

Carapace blinked.

“What?”

“Nothing!  You don’t usually agree with me.” 

She grinned and lightly elbowed him in the ribs.  “Try being right more often, then.  And come on.  Our friends deserve some alone time, don’t they?”

XXX

By the time Adrien left the bathroom, Carapace and Rena were gone.  Maybe it all had been a weird dream.

He yawned and made his way back to the bedroom.  Ladybug was now sprawled out starfish-style, but she still snored as deeply as before.

He smiled, something in his chest rising and falling, daring and not daring to hope.  She hadn’t been a dream.  But he had no idea if she’d still be happy to see him when she woke up.  She’d been pretty out of it when she’d agreed to snuggle with him again sometime.

He perched at the edge of the mattress, then gently reached over to brush her bangs from her face.  He still nearly shivered every time he got to touch her with his bare fingertips.  No longer forbidden.

“Mmmm…” 

He bit back a laugh as she nuzzled his fingers.  Nuzzled them.

“Who’s the kitty now, bugaboo?” he whispered.

He half expected a witty retort, but she just let out another snore.  Right.  She was going to keep him waiting a little longer.  He wouldn’t have guessed before last night that his lady slept like the dead.  She deserved the rest, though.

And maybe more than rest…

XXX

The smell of frying eggs slowly coaxed Marinette back to consciousness.  Had she spent the night with her parents?  Neither of her two roommates liked eggs, much less could cook them without burning the apartment down.

“Papa?” she called, fumbling for the lamp.  She must have fallen asleep on the couch, or the smell wouldn’t have reached her… but the cushions felt too soft, the blankets over her too silky.

A chuckle that definitely wasn’t her papa startled her.

“I sure hope not, bugaboo.”

She shot upright.  That was Chat’s voice.

She untangled himself from the silky covers and stumbled through the portal to the main room.  Standing at the kitchen counter, Chat was dressed for the day in jeans and a green sweater, plus the ever-present cloth mask.  Was this another one of those weird dreams where she was married to her partner and they had a hamster named—

“Finally!  I’m famished.”  Plagg flew over, spinning rapid circles around her head.  She got dizzy trying to follow him.

“Ignore Plagg,” Tikki said, hovering up to her next. “Did you sleep well?”

Her voice was cheekier than usual, making Marinette’s face heat as the events of last night slowly returned to her.

“I… uh… slept perfectly normal!  Just a segular reep. Completely ordinary.”

Oh no.  Not this again.  She’d blame it on lingering tiredness, but Tikki wouldn’t buy it.  There was only one thing—one person—who made her words jumble like that.  She did plan on making a fool of herself in front of Chat the way she had with Adrien.

Not that the universe cared whether she planned it or not.

“So you normally snore louder than Plagg?”  Chat asked over his shoulder as he flipped an omelette.  Chat… could cook?

She would’ve assumed she was still sleeping, but the soft look in his eyes sobered her up immediately.

“I don’t snore!”  Her voice was louder than necessary, her cheeks only hot from the accusation, that was all.

Plagg snorted.  “You’ve really been living with that, Sugarcube?”

Tikki looked back and forth quickly.  “Um—I’m going to set the table!”

She flew to the cabinets to get the cups, and Chat chuckled softly.  The sound did weird things to her.  Maybe she was coming down with something.

That was a rather weak excuse, even for her.  But if she kept feeling this awkward and embarrassed, she would make herself sick.

She needed to talk to him.  Preferably without the kwamis eavesdropping, though there was little short of transforming that would prevent that.

“Plagg, do you mind helping Tikki?  It’ll take both of you to carry the milk.”

“Ugh, I guess," he grumbled before flying over the fridge.

Marinette stood up next to Chat, leaning against the counter with the hot plate.  Her arms folded, she pretended like she was inspecting his culinary creations.

“Chat—” “Ladybug—”

She looked up at his eyes, not expecting the serious tone in his voice.

“You go first,” she said.

He cleared his throat weakly, returning his attention to the omelettes.  One big and one kwami-sized one fit on the hot plate, and he kept flipping them absently.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.  With everything.  I know you were tired last night, and I…”  He swallowed.  

“You what?” she couldn’t help asking.  Her head tilted, trying to catch the green of his eyes beneath the cloth mask.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable at all.  Or overstep any boundaries.”

She let out a soft chuckle.  “I was tired, Chat, not drunk.  I wouldn’t have let you get away with anything I didn’t want.”

His irises flickered up abruptly.  “So.  You.  Did want to cuddle me?”

She wanted to smack herself.  She’d walked right into that one.  But it would be wrong to lie about something like this, and it would only make him feel unwarranted guilt.

“Yes?” she answered in a small voice.  “You’re very comfortable.”

Forget smacking herself.  She should just shove her whole fist in her mouth.  Why had she said that?

He made some noise between choking and laughing.

“You’re my partner!  Of course I’d be comfortable with you!” she huffed, throwing her hands in the air.  

“Of course.”  He winked, but otherwise didn’t press the issue.  He was her partner, and had been long enough to know nothing would come of asking again.

The teasing had answered her own questions, though.  If he could still joke with her like this, then she hadn’t upset the balance of their partnership.  Nothing had changed.

She wouldn’t let anything change, no matter how many parts of her wanted it.

“Your eggs are burning,” she deadpanned, and Chat’s eyes widened as he scrambled to get the spatula under the omelettes.

A few minutes later, the table was set with four plates and omelettes in various sizes and degrees of crispiness.  Chat had given her the best one, with cheese oozing from the center and bits of bacon sprinkled on top.  It was thoughtful of him to eat the charred omelette himself—but then again, when wasn’t he thoughtful?

“Thanks, kitty,” she said with a smile, pushing aside how much it did feel like one of her odd dreams.  Being cooked for.  Waking up late to someone who cared about her, not having to keep Tikki a secret, momentarily ignoring the threat of akumas or sentimonsters…

She could get too used to this, if she let herself.  She couldn’t let that happen.

(Then she took one bite of the omelette, and realized it was already too late.)

Chapter Text

Nino blinked when he entered the base.  When Ladybug had texted that she had this week’s “team bonding exercise” planned out, he pictured, like, an obstacle course or something.  Maybe some trust falls. At the very worst, he’d worried that Ladybug found out about the photo Rena took last week and wanted payback for it. 

He didn’t expect the whole floor to be covered in every art supply known to man.  And kwami, if Wayzz’s expression was anything to go by.

“Mikey!”  Chat Noir waved from where he lay sprawled out on his stomach.  His elbow nearly landed in a palette full of green paint.  “You made it!”

Rena and Ladybug were there too, reclining against the foot of the couch.  Rena cut up colorful cardstock while Ladybug glued the pieces to a plastic folder.

“Uh… what exactly did I make it to?”  Nino asked.

“Arts and crafts night!”  Chat rolled over and jumped up, pulling Nino to the center of the floor.  The coffee table and bean bags had been pushed out of the way, next to the entertainment center.  

“I know some of us have been doing homework here, and that can be a risk to our secret identities,” Ladybug said while passing Nino a green folder.  “So I thought we could make disguises for our school supplies.  Kind of like how we have our fake masks.”

All of them were wearing their fake ones tonight.  The kwamis were in the kitchen area—Tikki dragged Wayzz off to teach them how to properly make tea, now that Rena had brought them a small camping stove to heat the water on.

“Huh,” Nino flipped open the folder.  Inside were pages of custom Carapace stickers.  “Dude.  This is pretty sick.”

Ladybug beamed.  “You like them?  The stickers were Chat’s idea.”

“What can I say?  I always wanted my face plastered everywhere.”  Chat grinned.

“You’ll want this, too.”  Rena handed over a roll of… plain sticker paper?  “You can cut this down to size to make a laptop skin.  It’s reusable, so you can take it off when you leave the base.”

“You guys really do think of everything.”  He settled down next to Chat, who was going crazy with the glitter glue on his laptop skin.  It looked kind of like a rainbow had thrown up on it.

Well, at least Nino’s art skills couldn’t be any more… uh, eccentric than that.  

Now if only he had any idea what to actually put on his skin.

He peeked at Ladybug’s and Rena’s designs for inspiration.  Ladybug’s skin was already done and stuck to her laptop; it bore an intricate design with each of the kwamis painted on it.  She knew how to paint, too?  And he’d thought Rena was the only weirdly talented one.

Rena’s was the beginning of a collage, which wasn’t surprising.  Several of the candid shots that hadn’t fit on their photo wall were glued together with bits of cardstock and stickers for decoration.  

“You think you could just do mine?”  He joked to Rena.  His was bound to look more like Chat’s if he did it himself.

“Nope.”  She shook her head, her long hair spilling over her shoulders.  It looked strangely familiar when she wore it down like that.  “Everyone has to make their own, Shelley.”

“Then how is this team bonding?”

“Because we’re making our own together,” Chat said seriously.  Then he poured more glitter on top of the glitter glue.  

Nino was glad he didn’t get sweeping on this week’s chore rotation.

His hand hovered over the different art supplies.  Paints would be too hard.  Markers, maybe?  But drawing wasn’t really his thing.  He probably could’ve managed drawing his soundcloud logo, but that would be a dead giveaway for his identity.

He didn’t have photos like Rena.  He didn’t have artistic skill like Ladybug.  He didn’t have the penchant for chaos like Chat.  What did he have?

“Maybe I’ll just go for a minimalistic look,” he thought out loud.  He could at least cut the sticker paper down to size for his synth.  It would be nice to be able to bring it back and forth between the base and his apartment.

“You can do anything you want,” Chat said.  He was proving that by making globby stick figures of all four of them in even more glitter glue.

“Is that gonna dry?” Nino scooted close enough to peer over his shoulder.  Which meant that shoulder bumped his chin when Chat shrugged.

“I dunno.  I’m just here to have a good time.”

Nino smiled.  “Right. That’s a good attitude, dude.”

It wasn’t like he had to make a masterpiece.  He knew that when he made music, but it was hard not to feel intimidated by artists like Rena and Ladybug.  Even if they were just regular dudes, they were really cool regular dudes.  Weird how they could feel both more real and more miraculous the longer Nino knew them.

Finally, an idea hit him.  He didn’t know if the others would go for it, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“Hey.”  He cleared his throat.  “Uh, I know you said we’re doing this on our own, but…”

“But what?”  Ladybug’s head tilted.  With all three of them staring, his face suddenly felt warm.

“Uh… nevermind!  It was dumb.”

“Look, Shell Boy, if Chat can pile up three centimeters of glitter glue, I’m sure your idea can’t be that bad.”

“...Thanks?”  Coming from Rena, that probably was supposed to be a compliment.  Anyway.  “It’s kind of messy, but if you dudes don’t mind…”

XXX

Red paint dripped from Ladybug’s hand as she smiled at their handiwork.  (Handiwork.  Nino was surprised Chat hadn’t made a pun about that yet.)

“Nice hand-iwork, wouldn’t you say?”  Chat flexed his black-coated palm.

Nino cracked a grin.  “You’re too predictable, dude.”

“Me?  Predictable?”  Chat gasped and held his hand to his chest—which smeared black paint across his light pink t-shirt.

“Saw that coming a mile away.”  Ladybug smirked.  “Go wash up, Chat.  I don’t want you getting paint all over the base.”

Chat stared down at his shirt.  “Y’know, I think it looks better this way.”

Nino dried off his own green hand on a paper towel and smiled.  Chat was right to be proud—their handprints made a nice aesthetic, lined up across the length of sticker paper.  Red, black, orange, green, repeat.  Simple.  Classy.  And of course, it reminded him of three of his best friends.

“I’m kind of jealous,” Rena said when she returned from washing her hands.  “This turned out better than I expected.”

“You?”  Nino raised an eyebrow.  “You’re messing with me.  Your laptop cover is way cooler.”

“Yeah, but mine doesn’t have Ladybug’s handprint on it!  I bet there’s a way to find out—”

Ladybug cleared her throat meaningfully.

“—I mean, I would never endanger any of our secret identities.  That would be foolish and irresponsible.”

Ladybug nodded.  It seemed like she was at least somewhat used to this.  How often did Rena dig for identity information?  She’d never tried to learn much about Nino.  

(He shouldn’t have felt insulted by that.) 

“But if I wasn’t Rena Rouge…” she continued in a whisper, a grin tugging at her lips.

She was just messing with them.  Rena liked to talk, but at the end of the day, she was trustworthy.  Besides, there had to be better ways of cracking a secret identity than comparing handprints.

Ladybug shook her head fondly.  “Don’t get any big ideas.  It would be a pain to have to replace you.”

“Maybe I’d finally get a break,” Nino joked.

“Hey!” Rena punched him lightly.  “Come on, you know you’d miss your favorite rival.”

“My only rival.”

“Which makes me your favorite by default.”

He laughed.  Nah, as crazy as Rena could be, she was pretty fun to be around.  When she wasn’t smacking him with something, anyway.

He nudged her back.  

“Long as I’m your favorite too, dude.”

Chapter Text

"What's next? Dew from the top of a mountain? Gold flakes from a dragon's hoard?" Alya grinned while crushing the seaweed with Ladybug's pestle. Making the potions was even more fun than she'd expected. She felt like a magician, or an alchemist, or something.

"Nothing that exotic." Ladybug smiled and set the grimoire down on the kitchen counter. "We need a tear of joy."

"A tear?" Some of the seaweed paste splattered out of the mortar. Oops. "This isn't another metaphor like that pearl thing, is it?"

"Nope. Back when… well, when my Master, the last guardian, was here, I told him puns until he cried with laughter." 

Her gaze grew distant, and Alya frowned. Ladybug rarely talked about the previous guardian. Most of what Alya knew about him came from Trixx and Wayzz, who'd apparently been his kwami before choosing Carapace.

"It sounds like you guys had fun together," she said. "He's been gone for a while now, hasn't he? How have you made the power ups since then?"

"I haven't." Ladybug bit her lip. Her fingers brushed up and down the grimoire's spine. "He had enough potions saved for me to make treats for the kwamis for a while. This is the first time I've done it by myself."

Alya blinked. "I'm sorry. I didn't know… are you doing alright?"

Such a dumb question. This had to be hard for her, but she'd been smiling as brightly as ever as they worked so far.

"No, I mean yes, I mean—it's okay!" Ladybug forced a smile while calibrating her torsion balance. That thing looked ancient; it had probably been handed down from the last guardian too. "I've been putting this off for too long. And you being here… it's really helped."

"Really?" Her heart warmed. It was one thing to be a hero to everyone else. But helping Ladybug, who always seemed to have the world on her shoulders? That was when she really felt like she made a difference.

"Of course. You seem to have a natural talent for this." She gestured to the mortar, where Alya was still rhythmically crushing the seaweed. The paste was uniform enough now she could probably add the sand.

"Oh. It's no big deal." She shrugged. "It's a lot like cooking. Maybe with a hint of arts and crafts."

Ladybug giggled. "No wonder I keep having to remind you to measure the ingredients properly. It's more like baking than cooking."

"Hey!" Alya flicked a grain of sand at her. "Why don't we go back to the part where you praised my natural talent?"

"I can't let it go to your head. You're as bad as Chat Noir sometimes."

"Whatever." She laughed it off. "I'm surprised you didn't ask him to help you. If it's puns you need for tears of joy, he'd have you set in seconds."

Ladybug snorted. "You're kidding. You saw his craft night project. I didn't want to spend hours sweeping the base again."

"Oof. Good point. Pass me the snail shells?"

Ladybug finished weighing the shells and dumped them into the mortar for her.

Alya was again tempted to ask about her night with Chat, but figured it would be best to let Ladybug bring it up herself. If she ever wanted to. She could be as tight-lipped about her feelings as she was about her identity.

Still, Alya had thought something would change between Ladybug and Chat. Two weeks of regular patrols had proved her wrong.

She crunched the shells beneath the pestle as Ladybug stared off into space.

"What's the matter? All out of good jokes?" Alya teased.

She sighed. "Life's been handing me plenty of jokes. Just none that would give me tears of joy."

Gee, that was almost nihilistic.

"Come on girl, spill." She held up a vial that would hold the potion once it was finished. "Bottling up your feelings isn't healthy."

Ladybug actually let out a wheeze at that. No tears welled in her eyes, though.

"You could give Chat a run for his money."

"I don't know about that. If the guy isn't homeless, he's gotta be loaded." She'd decided not to worry about his budget too much. He never complained about her eating his fancy food out of the fridge.

Another laugh. Maybe Alya would get that tear of joy out of her yet. But then her expression turned pensive.

"Rena, you have a boyfriend, right…?"

"Yep. Happily taken, and I don't think he'd be too happy about sharing." She winked.

"No, I mean—" Ladybug snickered behind her hand, which still had some snail guts stuck to it. "You seem like you know stuff. About relationships, and, um…"

"Ladybug." Alya grinned. "Are you saying you want a ticket to the Rena Rouge School of Love™?"

"Not if you're going to call it that."

She laughed. "Fine, fine. I just never thought you'd ask! This is just a big moment for me!"

She put down the mortar and moved to grab two chairs from the table. Ladybug's brow furrowed.

"What are you doing?"

"What? Too much?" She grinned sheepishly. She didn't want to scare Ladybug off when she was finally opening up about something this big.

"No, it's fine." Ladybug sighed and sat down across from her. Her fingers dug into the red fabric of her jeans. "Sorry. I just… I've never asked for help with this before. Not about, um, this person, anyway."

Alya bit her lip to keep from blurting It's Chat freaking Noir!

"Uh-huh?" She asked instead. "So. What kind of help did you want?"

“Well…” Ladybug dodged her gaze.  “What’s it like keeping your secret identity from your boyfriend?”

Alya blinked.  It wasn’t the question she expected, but it made sense, she guessed.

“I’ll be honest.  It sucks sometimes.  Having to cancel date night on short notice, or lying about talking to Trixx… but my boyfriend is really chill.  We’ve been together so long that we don’t sweat the small stuff.”

Usually.  That night that Carapace had gotten roughed up excluded.

Ladybug hummed thoughtfully, her brow furrowed beneath her fake mask.

“Have you had any close calls?  Times when it seemed like he would figure you out?”

“Hmm.  Well, there was one time we were making out and Trixx accidentally ended up in his pocket—”

“Nevermind.”  Ladybug waved her hands, grimacing.  “Forget I asked.”

Alya laughed, then reached across to squeeze her knee.  

“There’s going to be risks, girl.  There always are in love.  You just have to decide for yourself if those risks are worth taking.”

Finally, Ladybug met her eyes.  Her blue irises didn’t hold the confidence Alya was used to.

“The stakes are so much higher for me,” she said quietly.  “If Chat Noir finds out who I am…”

“Then you’ll have to trust him to keep your secret.  You trust him with everything else, don’t you?”

She looked away, but nodded.  “I trust him with my life.”

“Then are your identities really all that’s bothering you?”  Alya pried gently.  “Having this base seems like a bigger identity risk than you two dating.”

She slumped, dropping her head in her hands.  “I don’t know.  I’ve turned him down so many times.  Even if he does still like me… I don’t feel like he should.”

“Ladybug.”  She gripped her by the shoulders until she looked up.  “I hope I’m not crossing any lines, but I’m going to tell you something I think you should hear, okay?”

Ladybug’s brow furrowed, but she nodded.

“If Chat still likes you, then he likes you.  No strings attached.  He’s not going to hang those years of unrequited pining over your head.”

Ladybug’s eyes widened.  Oops.  Maybe that wasn’t the most tactful way to say it.

“What I mean is, he’s going to forgive you!  He would never think he was entitled to your love.  And if he doesn’t like you romantically anymore, he’ll still be your partner.  You never let his love confessions get in between you, and I know he won’t, either.”

Ladybug straightened a little, hope returning to her eyes.  “Y-yeah.  You’re right.  It would still be incredibly embarrassing… but it wouldn’t result in Paris being flooded or the moon getting destroyed or anything!”

“That’s… oddly specific.”

“Don’t worry.  It’s in the past.”  Ladybug winked and hopped up from her chair.  “Now all I need to do is tell him!”

Alya watched as the confidence crumbled from her face.  An unnatural grin stretched her lips, and her eye started twitching.

“Oh no.”  Alya jumped up.  This, she could handle.  Marinette had gotten that look before chickening out of confessing to Adrien approximately eight hundred times.  “Come on.  It’s just Chat.  You could confess by sending him a text on your yo-yo and he’d still be thrilled.”

“That’s not the point!”  He hands slapped her cheeks, and she started pacing.  “He tried to confess the first time by planning a romantic rooftop picnic!  I need to at least match that, plus the six years of interest that have built up means I need—”

“Means you need to slow down.”  Alya grabbed her and turned her around.  She hadn’t expected this kind of behavior from Ladybug, but when did she ever get the easy jobs?  “Whatever you do will be fine.  You don’t have to rush it or force it.  Trust me, I’ve seen my best friend botch so many confession attempts because she went too big.  Just be yourself.”

“Right.  Right.”  She took a few calming breaths and forced a smile.  “Thank you, Rena.” 

“Any time, girl.”  Alya winked.  “Now, I hate to end girl talk, but we should probably finish those potions, right?”

Ladybug’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.

“The potions!  Ack!”  She ran to the counter, but of course nothing had changed there.  They hadn’t started dissolving any of the crushed ingredients yet.  “We still need a tear of joy!”

“Not a problem.”  Alya smiled.  “Just answer one question for me first.”

“Huh—?  Okay, I guess?”

“Are you really in love with Chat Noir?”

Ladybug’s nose scrunched.  “I admitted that already, didn’t I?  This better not be some kind of prank.” 

“Then say it.  I promise I don’t have any Trixx up my sleeve.”  She grinned and held up her arms.

Ladybug laughed.  “That was terrible.  But, alright, I… I-I’m in love. With.  Chat Noir.”

Alya could practically feel the layers of denial that Ladybug was chipping through to say it.  But say it she did.

At that historic moment, Alya’s eyes welled up with tears of joy.

“I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Oh my gosh.”  Ladybug wheezed, wiping the tear from Alya’s cheek and flicking it into the mortar.  The potion erupted with a loud POOF.  “I'll have to tell Chat he’s been replaced as the biggest drama queen on the team.  He’s going to be devastated.”

“I think he’ll live.”  She smirked.  “Especially when you confess to him with a big smooch on the—”

“RENA!”  

Alya laughed. And there were tears of joy to spare.

Chapter Text

Apparently nowhere in Paris was quiet.  Not even the sewers.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Alya groaned when Carapace detransformed in the living room, revealing the backpack that must have disappeared along with his civilian clothes.  That backpack was bigger than his shield, and it made him look like an actual turtle.  What did he have stuffed in there, another bed?  Was he planning on camping out here like Chat Noir?

“What?”  He asked before dropping the bag next to the TV.  

Wayzz gave him a worried look before disappearing into the Miracle Box, where Trixx and the rest of the kwamis were. Ladybug wasn’t here and Alya didn’t have the code to let them out, so they had to relax inside tonight.

“You didn’t call dibs on the base tonight,” he said when she continued pouting.

She hadn’t thought she needed to.  That was before Carapace started setting up his gear all over the coffee table.  A drum pad, speakers, a laptop with a special cover Ladybug had sewn for him, cables that spilled out like tangled spaghetti.  Alya wasn’t sure they had enough extension cords to fit all of those plugs.

“I was trying to read,” she sighed before sticking a torn sheet of paper in her book.  She’d been so close to finding out if Kaladin had survived the highstorm, too.

“The Way of Kings?”  Carapace said, squinting at the cover through his hood-like mask.  “One of my bros keeps trying to get me to read that.  How do you have the time for a book that big?  Aren’t you in university too?”

She shrugged.  The book was over a thousand pages long, but she just poked at it in between classes and at night to relax.  Plus the characters and worldbuilding were so fascinating that she ended up blowing through chapters without realizing it.  It was a nice breather from all the academic papers and journal articles required for her classes. 

“You can’t do schoolwork all the time, Turtle Boy.”  She knew she’d go crazy if she did.

He scowled at her.  What had his shell in a twist?  Normally he’d just banter back.

“Maybe you don’t have to,” he muttered, nearly ripping a cord as he tried to untangle it.

“Is this still about the akuma today?” she asked.  “So you got kicked into the Seine.  You’re a turtle.  Turtles swim, right?”

“That’s not the point, dude!”  He jammed the cord into the outlet, sending out a tiny spark.  He hissed and shook his hand.  “You didn’t get thrown into the river.  You didn’t screw up and use your power at the wrong time.  You’re just—isn’t it good enough for you to be an awesome superhero?  Do you have to be good at everything else too?”

Was that a compliment buried under all that angst?  Alya wasn’t sure, but that probably wasn’t the point right now.  Carapace was always so easy-going.  How long had this been building up?

“Alright, come on, Shelley.”  She patted the spot on the couch next to her.  “Let’s talk it out.”

“I didn’t come here to talk.  I’m here to work on my midterm project.  Even when I use headphones, I’m too loud for my roommates.”

He wasn’t even bothering with headphones now, instead opting for speakers that looked like they’d shake the whole sewer system.  Nino’s roommates often complained about his noise, too.  Usually she let him come practice his mixing at her apartment, but she’d been so exhausted after today’s akuma fight that she’d just wanted to lie down and read.

But Carapace’s feelings were more important than finding out what happened next with Kaladin.  Especially if she was one of the reasons he was hurting.

“You can take a break for a little bit, can’t you?”  She walked over to the fridge and picked out two Capri Suns.  Tropical Punch flavor, nice.

He shrugged.  “Tell that to my professors.  Music theory is cutthroat, dude.”

She squinted.  Carapace was a music theory major, too?  Hmm.  What were the odds…?

No, she couldn’t worry about that now.  She wouldn’t do Carapace any favors by treating him like her boyfriend.  That wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

“Everyone needs breaks, though.  Especially when you got thrown into the Seine only what, three hours ago?”

“Four,” he muttered.  

Right.  Maybe she shouldn’t keep bringing that up.

“Anyway.  Come on, sit down.  Have a Capri Sun.”

She tossed it the pouch to him, and he raised an eyebrow.

“You know these are mine, right?”

“It’s a community fridge, Shelley.”  She stabbed her straw in and took a sip.  “I know you’ve been using my shampoo, so don’t try to act innocent.”

“That was one time!  Well… two times now.  I came back here to clean up after that fight today.”  He finally sat down beside her.  This close, she could tell that he still smelled like her shampoo, too.  The scent of peaches was weird on him.

“It’s okay.  I’ll forgive you on account of you sharing your Capri Sun.”  She winked.

For a few minutes they just sipped their drinks in silence.  Awkward silence.  Nino was rarely quiet for this long, which seemed proof enough that Carapace wasn’t him.  

“Do you ever think Ladybug and Chat Noir should’ve picked someone else?”  He finally asked in a quiet voice.  He didn’t look at her, just stared blankly at the coffee table.

“Like who, Queen Bee?”  Alya snorted.

It was the wrong response.  Instead of making Carapace laugh, he just shrugged morosely.

“Maybe.  Maybe Pegasus.  Or Ryuuko.  Anyone, really.”

This… this wasn’t just about one rough day, was it?  She didn’t understand.  Carapace was a fantastic superhero, for all that she loved to tease him.  How could she help him believe that?

“Do you remember the first day you became a superhero?” she asked.

His brows drew together at the change of subject.  “Of course.  Who doesn’t?”

She remembered it clearly.  Not her own first day—well, she remembered that too—but the first time she saw Carapace.   He’d arrived just in time to help Ladybug save her from Anansi’s web.

(Nino had been trying to save her shortly before that, but correlation didn’t equal causation.  She’d had to remind herself that often while writing for the Ladyblog.)

“You saved someone that day.”  Alya placed her hand on his shoulder.  “Your kwami chose you for that.  That wasn’t Ladybug or Chat Noir’s decision.  Wayzz knew you were the one for the job.”

His cheeks darkened a bit.  “That was just one time.  I’ve messed up a lot since then.”

“It wasn’t just one time to Alya.  And you’ve saved way more people than just her.  Do I really need to remind you of the time you took on Truck Freak all by yourself?”

“...You know the first civilian I saved?”  He blinked.

Maybe she shouldn’t have said that specific detail, but it was on the Ladyblog.  Anyone could figure that out if they bothered to read Carapace’s hero bio.

“Of course I do.  I know lots of things.  Like how I know you’re hiding something.”  She poked his chest.  “What’s really going on, Shelley?”

He tensed up, squeezing a gurgle of juice out of his straw.  “What?  I’m not hiding anything.  You’re crazy, fox lady.”

She stifled a laugh.  “Yeah right.  If you were a real turtle, your head would be stuck in your shell right now.”

She wanted to knock on the top of his head, the same way she sometimes did to Nino.  Stupid Turtle Boy and his stupid brown eyes.  There were thousands of pretty brown-eyed boys in Paris.  The odds of him actually being her boyfriend were infinitesimal.  (That was what Max had told her when she’d conspiracy theorized back in lycée, anyway.)

Carapace rubbed the top of his head, as if she’d rapped it anyway.  “That obvious, huh?”

She shrugged.  “Probably just to me.  Like I said, I know lots of things.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re good at everything.”  He sighed.  “It’s no wonder my girlfriend thinks you’re so much cooler than me.”

“Hold up a second.”  She straightened.  “You’re bummed out because your girlfriend doesn’t think you’re cool?”

He flinched, then tried to hide it by taking a sip of his Capri Sun.

“Wow.  That’s… crap,” she muttered.

Those odds were definitely looking a lot less infinitesimal. 

“I know, it’s stupid.”  He looked away.  “She doesn’t even know I’m, well, me.”

“But you are you.”  

And he was… he was, wasn’t he?

She’d spent her dance class with Nino laughing about how silly Carapace had looked with his sopping hood plastered to his face.  Sharing clips she’d managed to snag for the Ladyblog.  Calling Carapace seaturtle.

She’d thought Nino had seemed a bit tired, but she’d chalked it up to his composing midterm being due tomorrow… which would explain why Carapace had brought his drum pad here.

Too many coincidences.

“It’s perfectly reasonable to be upset,” she said, trying to force a comforting smile.  Bold words coming from the one who’d upset him in the first place.

He leaned back, staring up at the rough ceiling.  “I can’t be mad at her, though.  She’s awesome.  She’d make a perfect superhero.”

Alya bit her lip.  Somehow she doubted that.

“You’d probably like her better, too,” Carapace mumbled.  “She’s a huge fan of yours.  And she could totally beat your Just Dance score.”

She almost snorted at that.  “I don’t know.  That might make us rivals.”

“Heh.  Probably.”  He smiled a little.  It was a start.

“I might have to rough her up a bit for dunking on you.  That’s supposed to be my job.”  She punched a fist against her hand, the way Nora always did to intimidate people.  It probably worked better when you were 185 centimeters tall and had tree trunks for arms.

Carapace laughed, which was a better reaction than being intimidated.  “I’ll pass that along.  The Carapace Dunk Club isn’t accepting new members.”

“Maybe it should be disbanded altogether.”

He looked up sharply.  “You? Stop dunking on me?  I’d like to see you try.”

“What?  You don’t think I can leave you alone, Shell Boy?”  She poked his nose.  Broad and flat, just like Nino’s.  She’d kissed that nose enough times; she should’ve recognized it.

“You’d go crazy without someone to tease.  I’d put money on it.”

She smirked and held out her hand.  “Twenty euros?”

“Bet.”  He grinned.

They shook on it.

“Get ready to pay up, then.”

XXX

Maybe it was a coincidence that the Ladyblog hosted Carapace Appreciation Week the next Monday.  And maybe it was a coincidence that Nino’s smiles were brighter than ever.

But the odds of that were infinitesimal.

Chapter Text

Huh.  This was weird.  Chat had messaged him to come to the base, but the lights were off.  Chat practically lived here; Nino couldn’t believe he’d actually beaten the other hero.  

“Bro?” He called into the darkness, fumbling for his phone flashlight, only to remember that he was transformed.  

He nearly tripped over one of the extension cords.  Where was that lamp?  

“Man, wish we had an electrician hero or something…” he mumbled before finally stumbling into the lamp.

He pulled the cord and the lamp flashed on, revealing Chat standing on the coffee table with his arms spread wide.

“Surprise!” 

Nino laughed.  “Dude, what are you doing?  Not that seeing you isn’t a great surprise, but…”

Chat just winked and pointed to his left.  

Propped up against the photo wall was… a brand new synth.  Its rows of knobs and sliders glinted emerald in the lamplight.

“No.  Way.”  His jaw dropped.  “Dude!  You didn’t—no way!”

 “I told you we all owed you, bro.”

Yeah, Chat had said that back when Nino took on the truck akuma by himself, but that wasn't worth a brand new synth.  Was this because he'd complained about hauling his old one back and forth from his apartment? He hadn't meant for Chat to—to do this.

“Dude.  Bro.  Chat.”  Nino placed his hands on Chat’s face.  “If I didn’t have a girlfriend, I would kiss you right now.”

“Uh.”  His face warmed under Nino’s palms.  “That’s. A very nice almost-offer?  I’ll also accept payments in the form of your eternal gratitude, a Ninja Turtles marathon, and two of your Capri Suns.”

“Deal.”  Nino dropped his hands and held out a fist, which Chat bumped eagerly.  “Still.  You really didn’t need to do this.  That had to cost—I’ve been saving up for that.  It’s one of the best in the industry.”

“I know.”  Chat twirled his tail, looking satisfied with himself.  “My best friend’s big into electronic music, too.  He’d never let me do something like this for him, but since this is my base too, I can buy whatever I want and put it here.  So no takebacks.”

Nino gave an incredulous little laugh.  Geez, was Chat Noir loaded?  For a while he’d thought the other hero just had really bad spending habits, but maybe he just had enough money he didn’t need to budget.

Regardless, it seemed Nino was getting a new synth whether he liked it or not.

“Well, in that case… thank you, dude.”

“Why don’t you set it up?” Chat said.  “I would’ve gotten it ready for you, but I didn’t want to mess it up.”

"Heck yes, man!"

It took a while to get the stand put together properly, even with Chat helping. The screws rolled under the couch a few times. That was a hazard of having an unevenly cut floor, he guessed. Eventually he got a cloth mask and detransformed so Wayzz could help.

Together they unraveled new cords and plugged in Carapace’s old speaker.  Chat hadn’t known that he would need one, and technically he didn’t in such a small space, but a moment like this deserved some killer sound.

“I always love to hear you play, Master Carapace.”  Wayzz settled onto the top of the synth, just above the dials.  Oh man, this thing had like, a million settings.  It was going to take some getting used to.

He flipped on the switch and ran through a C major scale to test the keys.  Ohhhhh man.  They felt like butter.  He switched to an E flat scale and nearly cried when the bass B flat didn’t stick.

“I take it back.  I’m going to have to kiss you on the lips anyway.  Al—my girlfriend will understand.”

Chat blushed bright red.  “Don’t worry, man.  I get it.  Fresh keys make a difference.”

“You play?”  Nino looked up, and Chat nodded.  “That’s it.  We’re making out.”

“Ah—I mean, okay?  If that would would?  Make you feel better??”

This time it was Nino’s turn to blush.  “Spiritually I am kissing you on the mouth right now.  Physically I am going to hug the heck out of you.”

He threw his arms around Chat, who hugged him back after a second of hesitation.  Even Wayzz got in on the action, snuggling in the crook of Nino’s neck.

“I am unfamiliar with the ritual of spiritual kissing, but I too am very grateful that you have made my holder happy,” the little dude said.

Nino laughed, let go of Chat, and wiped the tear from the corner of his eye.  “Don’t worry about it, bud.  It’s a bro thing.”

“Just two dudes being bros,” Chat said with a slightly manic grin.  “Spiritually kissing each other on the lips.”

“Er, uh, sorry.”  Nino rubbed the back of his neck.  “I got a little carried away there.  Know you’ve got a thing for Ladybug and you’re probably gonna kiss her on the lips—”

Chat let out some kind of gargle-screech.

“—and I do love my girlfriend very very much.  You’re not gonna be a homewrecker or anything.  She knows she has permission to kiss Ladybug too if like, that ever becomes an option.  Not that, uh, she’s gonna steal Ladybug from you—”

Chat collapsed on the floor.  At first Nino thought he’d upset him, but then he heard the wheezing cackles.

“Carapace.  My man.  My dude.  I love you so much.”  He kept laughing for a bit, then finally sat up.  “I don’t think I’m ever going to kiss anyone.  Let alone Ladybug.”

He let out a dramatic, pining sigh.  The gears in Nino’s head started turning.

He sat down next to Chat.

“Not to like, pry or anything, but, uh… is it because you think Ladybug doesn’t like you back?  Or is it because you just… don’t want to kiss anyone?”

Chat looked up, his eyes wide.  “Is it that obvious?”

Nino shrugged.  “I’m demi.  Demisexual.  I wasn’t sure if I was just projecting, but I got similar vibes from you.”

It was the way Chat never made sensual comments about anyone behind their backs.  They way he could sleep with Ladybug and not be weird about it.  The way Rena would crack a slightly dirty joke, and he’d look more confused than anything.

“Huh.”  Chat stared at his boots, which he clicked together absently.  “Didn’t expect you to get that close.  I’m aromantic.  Maybe acespec too, but the aro part’s what I’m sure about.”

Nino’s eyes widened.  “Really?”  He’d been almost-right?  He’d been sure Chat would laugh him off. 

“I know, I know.  Ladybug hardly believed me either.”  Chat completely misread his surprise.  He gave a soft grin.  “I do enjoy the art of cheesy pick-up lines.  And I was never insincere—I really do want to spend forever with Ladybug.  I love her.  The way I love is just different, I think.  Does that make sense?”

“Mostly,” Nino replied.  He’d never completely get it—he was biromantic, himself—but he could see how it made sense for Chat. “I’ll make sure to only give you platonic spiritual kisses from now on.”

Chat laughed.  “Thanks.  And thanks for not being weird about it.  I’ve only come out to Ladybug so far, just because it would be a nightmare to talk about in my civilian identity.  It feels good to tell someone else.”

“Geez.  I’m sorry this is the only place you can come out, though.  You’ve got enough secrets being Chat Noir, I imagine.”

“Heh.  I’m used to it.”  He shrugged.  “Speaking of secrets, and I’m sure this goes without saying, but… don’t tell anyone else this, okay?  I’ve realized I’m aro for about a year now, but it’s still a big commitment to go public.”

“Right.  Of course.”  Nino nodded.  “I’m pretty open as a civilian about being demi and bi, but it’s probably best if people don’t connect that to Carapace.  Not like it’s a common identity.”

“It’s not?”  Chat’s brow furrowed beneath his mask.  “Huh…”

“What, you know more demi-bi dudes?”

“Just one, I guess.  Too bad I can’t introduce you, you’d get along great.  He’s the one who taught me about synths and stuff.”  He grinned and sprang to his feet.  “Which you’ve still barely played!  Come on, show me how awesome you are!”

Nino laughed and climbed to his feet. 

“Don’t get too pumped, man.  For all you know I might suck.”  His fingers twitched from nerves.  He knew he didn’t suck, but knowing Chat was watching might trip him up.

“No way.  Rena’s told me how good you are, and that was with your old synth.”

Rena?  Rena talked about him?  ...And said something nice?

He found himself blushing.  “U-uh.  Well.  I’ll, uh, do my best.”

Wayzz landed on the top of the synth, smiling encouragingly.  Nino grinned back.

He sniffed back another tear of gratitude and pressed his fingers to the keys.

XXX

Marinette heard the pounding bass from halfway across the sewer.

“Ten Euros says that’s Chat,” she sighed to Rena.

“I don’t know.  Carapace can bump his tunes pretty loud when he wants to.”

“This loud?”  Marinette raised an eyebrow.  “It’s a miracle Hawkmoth hasn’t come down and busted them already.”

It had to be one of them.  Who else would be throwing a rave in Paris’s sewer system?

“I’ve been practicing sound-based illusions.  I can set one up tonight.  Not that I think Hawkmoth is paying any attention.” 

Marinette frowned.  They could never be too careful, especially where the Miracle Box was concerned.

The padlock was already missing when Marinette felt through the false brick.  Waves of sound poured from the hidden door even before she turned the knob.  Could Rena’s Mirage mask the walls literally shaking?

...It could, apparently.  Marinette hadn’t heard her play her flute over the pounding music, but the light enveloped the wall and sucked up the sound.

“Why is your power so much cooler than mine?”  Marinette mumbled.

Rena laughed.  “I’m not the one breaking the law of conservation of mass.”

“By summoning a random object.  Yours does exactly what you tell it to.”  

Marinette pushed open the door— 

And saw flashes of light shaking and zipping around the room.  What the heck?

She blinked, and her eyes adjusted to the darkness.  Those were—those were the kwamis, wearing glowsticks like little necklaces.  The only other source of light was Carapace’s phone, which was propped up to shine on his keyboard.

“Ten Euros.”  Rena smirked.

Carapace couldn’t have let out the kwamis, though.  Where was Chat?

She stumbled farther into the room, past Pollen, who was doing her best interpretation of human dance moves.  (Was the last time she’d been out of the box in the seventies?)

Finally, Marinette noticed a brighter concentration of glow sticks.  They illuminated Chat Noir standing on the couch, chugging two Capri Suns at once.

“Oh my gosh,” Rena wheezed, already switching her flute to camera mode.

“My lady!”  His toothy grin was bright enough to light the room.  Oh no, he was not allowed to be so cute while being so completely stupid.

Carapace’s playing faltered.  The silence was more crushing than the earlier music.  Luckily, the kwamis filled it before it could feel too awkward.

“Awww!”

“Carapace, keep playing!  You’re so good!!”

“Yeah, we were having so much fun!”

“I want a cool holder like him!”

Marinette giggled as much at the kwamis as at Carapace’s dumbstruck expression.

“Ladydude—uh, Dudebug—”

Rena snickered, and his face went even redder.

“Want a Capri Sun?”  Chat interrupted, holding out one of the pouches he’d been drinking out of.

Now it was Marinette’s turn to go red.

“I would, actually.”  She stepped up and took one, winking at him as she put the straw in her mouth.  It was worth it to watch his eyes practically pop out of his skull.

Rena was practically cackling by now.  She was probably having a field day with all of these photo opportunities.  Marinette could only hope that it was too dark for them to turn out.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you playing, Carapace,” she said.  “Rena used a Mirage to keep the sound from leaking out.  The base will be safe now.”

“Oh geez—”  He dropped his head in his hands.  His elbows hit the keys, producing a dissonant chord.  “I’m so sorry, dudes.  I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey.” Rena walked over and flicked his arm.  “It’s already fixed.  Don’t get your shell in a twist, turtle boy.”

“That didn’t even make sense,” Carapace huffed.  But when the kwamis kept clamouring for him to play, he obliged.

Marinette grinned back at Chat, who seemed to have pulled himself back together.  It was hard to tell if the pink in his cheeks was just from the red glowstick around his neck.

“Where did you get these?” She asked, brushing her fingertips along it.

“Huh?  O-oh.  I always have glow sticks on me.  Don’t you?”

“No, I can’t say I do.”  She chuckled.  “Did you save enough for me and Rena?”

“Always, my lady.”  He bowed deep, nearly toppling off the couch.  Then he popped apart some of the glowing pieces of his necklace.  Once it was split, the remaining parts made three much smaller glowstick chains.

“Catch!”  She tossed one to Rena, who caught it and blew her a kiss.  She’d detransformed already and was dancing with Trixx.  Marinette should do the same, but there was something she wanted to do first.

“Will you help me put it on?”  She asked Chat, holding up the short glowstick chain.  

It was a cheesy move.  He was bound to see through her.  But maybe that’s what she wanted.  Planned confessions, elaborate schemes—all of those tended to blow up in her face.  But just being here with Chat Noir, goofing off?  That was something that always felt right.

“I’d be honored,” he replied with a brilliant grin.

She sat on the armrest, and he knelt on the couch cushion.  His hands—bare hands, uncovered by his suit—touched the sliver of skin on her neck.  He fastened the glowstick choker as carefully as if it were a golden chain.

“Ta-dah!” he said when he was finished.  

She turned back to face him.  Somehow, he’d already put on his own glowstick choker too.  He’d saved the green and blue ones for himself, while giving Marinette the pink and red ones.

“We match,” she said dumbly, because his stupid cute face took all of the other words out of her brain.

His smile turned soft.  “It looks better on you.”

“Shut up.”  She shoved him lightly.  

“What!  It does!  It matches your suit and everything.”

“We could put a bell on yours.  Then it would match your suit.”

He tapped his lips thoughtfully.  “Huh, that’s not a bad idea…”

“I was just kidding!”  She laughed.  Of course, Carapace picked that moment to stop playing, leaving her snorts echoing in the small room.  

“What?”  She asked when she saw Rena’s knowing look.

“Nothing,” she replied smugly.

Carapace finished adjusting his dials and moved back into a new song—something softer and smoother than his previous music.  Marinette could swear that was Rena’s meddling.

It didn’t matter.  Rena had been right: Marinette had all the time she needed to tell Chat how she felt.  

Right now, she was perfectly fine just sitting side by side on the couch, sipping her Capri Sun and basking in his laughter.

Chapter Text

Marinette knew that Rena was right.  She shouldn’t worry about how she was going to confess her feelings for Chat Noir.  Still, old habits died hard.

Which was why she was sprawled out over the base’s beanbags, panicking as the kwamis tried to give her advice.

“You could usssse my power to deliver the perfect confessssion,” Sass said.

“She should use my power!”  Kaalki put her hooves on her hips.  “I can take her to the most glorious destination!  They could watch the sun rise over the beach, or dance on the skyscrapers of New York.  I’ve always wanted to see the city!”

“You could use my power to hold Chat Noir still,” Pollen said, hovering close to Marinette’s head.  “Then you’d have all the time you need to tell him how you feel!”

Marinette laughed a little hysterically.  “Yep, I’m sure that will work!  Here, Chat, let me just use Venom on you, because I like you too much and I’m too stupid to just tell you like a normal person!”

Pollen and Kaalki shared a look.

“Does that mean you don’t want to use my power…?” Pollen asked.

Marinette snorted, but couldn’t help smiling at Pollen’s sincerity.  “Thanks for the offer.  It’s nice of all of you to try to help.”

They were decent moral support, even if they couldn’t understand how it felt to be in love.  Technically Chat wouldn’t completely understand, either.  They’d talked about their differing experiences with romance and attraction at length, so she knew which actions would and wouldn’t be welcome.  She could kiss his cheeks and forehead and nose.  Probably not his lips, but she'd lived without kissing him for this long. She'd survive. 

Her face heated.  Why was she worrying about kissing him when she couldn’t even figure out how to confess?

It wasn’t like she was afraid.  Rena had effectively quashed her worries that Chat would reject her.  She just wanted to be as overdramatic as he was, for once.

“You know, you could always use my power.”  Tikki smiled mischievously.  “What’s luckier than a Lucky Charm?”

Marinette blinked.  Why hadn't she thought of that?  

She sat up abruptly.  “I don’t know.  Is that cheating?”

“Marinette.”  Tikki flew close to her face.  “You know better than anyone that there’s no rulebook for love.  As long as Chat knows that you care about him, whatever you do will be perfect.  The Lucky Charm would probably just help you stop worrying so much.”

That was a good point.  It was hard to waste time worrying when she was in problem-solving, akuma-fighting mode.  Figuring out a Lucky Charm puzzle might help with that.

“Okay. Okay.” She took a deep breath.  “Tikki, spots on!”

XXX

Waves lapped calmly against the sand. Candles flickered in the evening breeze, lighting the underside of a red polka-dot tarp stretched across four wooden poles.  The other half of the torn tarp made a decent picnic blanket. A basket of chocolate-filled pastries on top of it completed the setting.

It was overdramatic. It was perfect.

"Did we do good?" Pollen asked with a hopeful smile. 

"Very good." Marinette smiled back. She'd used Pollen's Venom to immobilize the bamboo when the wind threatened to blow the poles over.

"Are you feeling better now?” Tikki asked.

“I think so?”  She adjusted her glasses.  She’d need Kaalki’s power to bring Chat here, since it had been too risky to leave a portal open.  She was still a little worried that the glasses would fall off of her nose and reveal her identity.

She was still worried about a lot of things.  But she did feel better.  Whatever happened, she wasn’t going to back down this time.

(Maybe Pollen could use Venom on her if she tried.)

The kwamis followed her back through a portal to the base.  Now all she had to do was message Chat, and— 

“Ladybug?”  Chat said through a mouthful of noodles.  He slurped them up and swallowed.  “Or should I say Horsefly?”

Marinette gaped at her partner, who was leaning casually against the kitchen counter while he ate his takeout.  That pun had been so horrible, she almost reconsidered her plan.

“Okay, not my best work.  Lady Mare?  Wait, that’s redundant…”

She shook her head and laughed.  Ridiculous puns or not, she loved him.

"Don't worry about it, kitty. And put down that cup of noodles."

"Huh?" He paused with the fork halfway to his mouth. "What, you think it's got too much sodium?"

She fought the urge to laugh again. If they got caught up in their usual banter, they'd never get to the beach, and she'd lose her nerve, and it would take her ages to set up something like this again.

"I've got something better." She winked. "It's a surprise, though. Are you ready to leave?"

His cat eyes widened a fraction, before narrowing in suspicion. "Is this some kind of prank?"

"What? Why would you think that?"

"Well there was the time you and Rena put red Kool-Aid in the shower tank…"

"That was one time!" she protested. It had been absolutely hilarious when he came out with pink hair, though. "I promise this is a good surprise."

Unless he no longer liked her. But she tried to hang onto Alya's reassurances. It was going to be fine. 

Everything was going to be fine.

"Well, if you purr-omise." He winked back.

She glared, almost tempted to retract the surprise.

"Just follow me, alley cat."

She took his hand, tentatively threading their fingers together, and he eagerly returned her touch. That was one less worry to weigh on her.

She took a deep breath, gathered all of her Ladybug confidence, and stepped through the portal.

She was greeted by a giant burst of light, and for a moment she thought she'd gotten them stuck inside of the Voyage. But the inside of the portal was never this hot.

"Uh." Chat blinked, shielding his eyes with his free hand. "Your surprise is. Surprising."

"No no no no no!" She dropped his hand and ran forward, too close to what she now realized was a giant bonfire.

A bonfire that consumed the whole picnic spread she'd laid out.

"This is a disaster!" She tried to tug at her pigtails, forgetting that the horse miraculous had replaced it with a ponytail.

"It could be worse!" Chat tried to reassure her. "We're on a beach. There's plenty of water, and it looks like the sand stopped the fire from spreading."

"That's not the point! It was supposed to be—we were supposed to—" 

She let out a pathetic, guttural noise. It was her own fault for leaving the candles unattended, but there was no time to dwell on that now. She needed to fix this.

She saw an ashen scrap of the tarp float up, propelled by the hot air. With one snap of her yo-yo, the scrap was snatched from the air. 

There was no akuma, but… the tarp had been a Lucky Charm.

"Miraculous Ladybug?" She said hopefully before tossing the scrap into the air.

The swarm of magic ladybugs swirled around the bonfire, casting glimmers of pink across the sand and waves. When they scattered, the fire was gone—but so was all of her handiwork.  The beach was completely clear.

She groaned and fell to her knees.

"That… wasn't the surprise, was it." Chat Noir knelt down beside her. 

"Me? Completely screwing this up?" She laughed pathetically. "No surprise at all."

"Hey. You're no screw-up, Bug." His hands came to rest on her shoulders. The gentle touch grounded her, stopped the swirl of worries that blazed hotter than the earlier fire. "Could you tell me what happened?"

Her eyes widened. How could she play this off? Could she play this off, try again some other time? 

Her mouth felt dry. She'd just lit the beach on fire. She'd promised a good surprise. She didn't want to lie to him, even if her plans were literally in ashes.

"I wanted to surprise you," she murmured, leaning back and pulling her knees to her chest. "You always used to do such dramatic things for me. I just wanted to return the favor."

His brow furrowed. "Well, a bonfire is dramatic."

"It wasn't supposed to be a fire! It was a picnic, with candles, and a cute tent, and we were going to eat chocolate pastries and look at the stars over the ocean and I was going to—"

She choked off, her throat refusing to say the words. She was going to tell him she loved him. That she wanted him to be her partner in more than just the superhero sense. 

But what if the bonfire had been a sign? What if her future with Chat Noir went up in flames? Maybe the universe was trying to save her from making an even bigger fool of herself.

"Going to what?" Chat asked quietly.

Without the crackling fire, the only sounds were the waves lapping at the shore, the wind rustling distant palm trees. Her own breathing, coming too fast.

"It sounds stupid now." Her face heated.

"No it doesn't." He leaned back in his palms. "Even if it went up in flames—literally—it sounds like it was going to be a nice surprise. It's the thought that counts, right?"

She sighed. Maybe he was right. He didn't seem too bothered, and this was for him.

They were still alone together. On the beach. Maybe she could still make the best of it.

Breathe. Think. She could be smooth. What would Chat say if he was trying to recover from a horrible pickup line? Wait, maybe that wasn't a the best idea to imitate.

"Hi," was the only thing that came out of her mouth. 

Well. It could've been worse. She could've asked for constipation capsules.

"Hi yourself?" He grinned back, though he looked a little confused. Of course he was confused! She wasn't making any sense!

"Oh forget it," she huffed before taking his hand. Their fingers tangled awkwardly, as he had no idea what she was doing. "I'm just going to talk and you can tell me I'm stupid, or whatever. I didn't burn down a homemade pavilion just to give up now."

He blinked, but as usual, he took her sudden intensity in stride. "Okay."

"I—I wanted to do something special for you. Because you're my best friend, and my partner, a-and… I want you to be…"

His eyes widened as she trailed off.

"My lady?" He asked hopefully.

She let out a snort. "I would be your lady. You can be my kitty, though. I-if you even still want that! I know it's been so long, and I've turned you down so many times—"

His warmth left her hand, only to return with full force as he flung his arms around her.

"I'll always be your kitty, bug." His breath was soft against the top of her head. "Always."

Her heartbeat quickened, adrenaline still pumping through her.

"Even though we're so different? It might not be easy—"

"It doesn’t have to be easy.  We’ll work through it, just like we always do. If I had any doubts, I wouldn't say yes." His thumb rubbed over the curve of her shoulder blade as he spoke. "You're the one person I can be myself with. Um, even if I can't be myself myself, like reveal my identity—it doesn't matter. I can't imagine being as comfortable with anyone as I am with you.”

“I can’t either,” she breathed, letting him rub the tension from her back, slowly thawing, melting, dissolving into him.  

She could hardly believe it.  She’d half expected a meteor to crash into her before she could get the words out, or something.  For an akuma to come hurtling out of nowhere.  For her to wake up and realize this was all just a dream.

But it wasn’t.  She was safe in Chat Noir’s arms.

A laugh bubbled out of her.

“What?” he asked.

“Just laughing at how ridiculous I’ve been.”

“The fire was pretty funny.” He snickered.  “I guess you could say you were—”

“Don’t you dare.”

“—burning for me,” he finished with a cheeky grin.

“That’s it. I’m breaking up with you.”

“You would never!  You love me.  I knew my feline charms would pay off eventually.”

She burst out into a full-on cackle.

“You’re lucky I love you for the boy under the catsuit.” She pulled back and flicked his bell. “I do think he’s pretty charming, though.”

She swore there were actual hearts in his eyes, and another piece of her turned to goo. She really needed to compliment him more often.

“This is the best day of my life,” he breathed.

She smiled and leaned her forehead against his.  He nuzzled her back fondly.  The soft, reassuring contact was more than enough for both of them.

“I guess that means the accidental arson was worth it,” she giggled.

“Definitely.”

They stayed like that for a long time.  When the sun cast its last rays over the ocean, they laid back on the sand and watched the stars wink to life one by one.  Her hand still held tightly to his, connecting them like the points of a constellation. 

As they made up fake pictures in the stars, she decided today was her best day ever, too.

Chapter Text

“Why can’t we have costumes like that?” Rena pointed to the TV screen, where Megamind was currently being clothed in the Black Mamba(aaaaaaaaaaa). 

“Speak for yourself,” Adrien said with a grin.  He wasn’t suited up right now—they always let their kwamis out for Movie Night—but if he had been, he would’ve twirled his incredibly cool belt tail.  “Some of us were just born to wear black.”

“Black is literally in your miraculous name.  You can’t take credit for that,” Ladybug pointed out.  

Her legs were draped over his lap, a position that had become normal for them over the last few weeks.  Not that Adrien would ever take it for granted. 

“I can take credit for making black look catastrophically sexy,” he said with a wink.

Ladybug snorted, but she was grinning.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Shhh, guys, you’re gonna miss the best part.” Carapace flopped his hand over Adrien’s mouth.

“Shelly, you already said the best part was the date montage,” Rena said.

“All the parts are the best part!”

Adrien restrained himself through the rest of the movie, keeping his witty comments to a minimum.  He’d seen Megamind with Nino so many times that he practically had the script memorized.  Watching it with Carapace was almost as entertaining.  It was hard to see beneath his hood, but he seemed to tear up when Minion looked like he was dying.

“I still think it would be cool to have overdramatic costumes,” Rena said when the credits rolled.  “I don’t need anything in black.  I’ve just always been into superheroes, and the suits are part of the aesthetic, you know?”

“You already have the coolest suit,” Carapace said, and Rena blushed in the TV’s dim light.  Huh.

“Fine, maybe I wouldn’t change it permanently,” she said.  “But don’t you think it would be cool to try out new costumes?  Just for fun?”

“That would be fun.”  Ladybug tapped her lips.  “It might be possible, too.  Tikki told me that our suits show the wielder’s desires.  If you’re just focused on getting the job done, they might not be too fancy, but if you put a little more thought into it…”

Rena sat up on her knees and grinned.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Ladybug sat up, reaching over Adrien and Carapace to link her hands with Rena’s.

“Miraculous makeover fashion show?” Ladybug asked.

“YES, girl!”

Adrien perked up. “Count me in!”

This would be way more fun than any photoshoot or fashion week he’d been forced to take part in.

“Sounds good to me.” Carapace grinned.  “I call using the Black Cat miraculous first.”

“Oh, so you think you can pull off the Megamind look.” Adrien smirked.  He slid the ring off his finger and placed it in Carapace’s palm.  “Good luck getting Plagg to play nice.”

“Plagg!”  Carapace called over the back of the couch to where the kwamis were floating and eating popcorn.

“Yeah, yeah, what kind of cheese are you gonna trade me?”  

“Uhhh…”

Adrien laughed.  “I’ll get you one block of the feta with the red peppers in it.”

Plagg gave a cheshire grin.  “You got a deal!”

While Carapace disappeared into the bathroom with Plagg, Ladybug sorted which kwamis would go with the other holders.

“Kaalki would really appreciate it if you’d transform with her first,” she told Adrien.

“I just know we’d make the most glamorous team!”  Kaalki said with a twirl.

“We’ll be the mane event!”  Adrien tapped her hoof with his fist.

“I’ll be busy preparing to endure more horse puns,” Ladybug deadpanned.

“Who are you and Rena pairing up with?” he asked while crossing his arms over the back of the couch.

“It’s a surprise,” Rena said with a finger pressed to her lips. A halo of kwamis surrounded her, all mimicking her serious expression.  (Except Xuppu.  He was picking his nose.)

“I look forward to being surprised then.” 

Adrien gave a two-fingered salute, then went back to the bedroom to transform.

XXX

“No peeking!” Alya hissed.

“How would you know I’m peeking unless you’re peeking?”

“I was just—wait, you peeked?”  

She opened her eyes and squinted at Nino.  She’d turned off the lamp earlier, and the only light came from the Megamind soundtrack streaming on the TV.  It wasn’t enough to make out any details on Carapace’s new black outfit.

“Someone has to peek,” Chat Noir pointed out.  “We’re the only audience.”

“Hey, don’t forget us!”  Stompp called. 

“Right, sorry.”

“How about we all open our eyes? Tikki will point the spotlight at each person when it's their turn,” Ladybug said. “We won't be able to see well in the dark, anyway.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nino’s grin was a bright crescent in the shadows.

“Yeah, yeah, flex the night vision, catboy.”  Alya rolled her eyes only because she knew he could see them.

The dragon miraculous thrummed with energy at her throat.  She couldn’t wait to show Nino what her suit looked like in the light.  And Chat Noir and Ladybug too, of course.  She and Ladybug had both transformed in the living room, but they hadn’t peeked at each others’ costumes, wanting to save the reveal for the catwalk.

Well, “catwalk.” It was just the coffee table they were going to use as a tiny stage.

“You go first, kitty,” Ladybug said.

“Me?” Nino asked.

“No, my kitty.”

“Borrowing Plagg for a few minutes doesn’t make you a catboy,” Chat Noir—or whatever he called himself when paired with Kaalki—said.  “Being a catboy is something you have to feel in your heart.”

Ladybug gave a giggling snort.  “Nice speech.  Now go strut your stuff, pretty boy.”  

“Hey, don’t rush perfection, bugaboo.”

Still he hopped up onto the table, and Tikki fixed the flashlight on him from above.  Alya had to squint at the sheer amount of sparkles on his costume.  Were those sequins?  Glitter?  Hopefully she’d be able to tell when she rewatched the video Trixx was recording for her.

“Live from the Paris underground, it’s the one, the only, Dark Horse!”  Mullo narrated his entrance.

The other kwamis whooped and hollered.  Alya could barely make out Ladybug’s silhouette biting down on her knuckle and shaking with suppressed laughter.

“He’s sporting a tight brown leather jacket, studded with pink rhinestones.  Kaalki must be feeling extra glamorous today,” Mullo continued.  “What do you think, Pollen?  Does he have the guts to pull it off?”

“I think Lord Dark Horse looks very dashing,” she said with a nod.

“Thank you, Pollen.”  Chat bowed, sweeping out an arm to show the pink tassels hanging from the sleeve.  That was definitely overkill, but Alya wasn’t about to rain on his cowboy parade.

He looked back up long enough to wink at Ladybug over the top of his glasses.

“Dang it, he’s hot,” Ladybug muttered.

Alya bit back a laugh.  “He’s your boyfriend.  Isn’t that a good thing?”

“He’s not supposed to be that hot!  I never—”  she bit her lip.  “Um.  I’m ace, I don’t really find anyone hot.  I mean, aesthetic attraction is one thing, but—”

“Hey, I get it.  My boyfriend’s demi.”  

Her eyes flickered over to Nino, who was already staring in her direction.  She really needed to come clean to him soon.  But what would Ladybug do if she knew Alya knew another hero’s identity?  Would Alya have to give up her miraculous? Would Nino?

That would have to wait.

“Anyway, you don’t have to explain yourself to me unless you want to,” Alya reassured her.

Ladybug sighed in relief.  “Thanks, Rena.  It’s not that I don’t want to, I just… don’t always know how, you know?”

“Maybe I don’t know.  But I’ll listen if you ever feel up to explaining.”  She’d be lying if she said she completely understood the aro and ace spectrums, despite being bi herself.  “Right now though I think you’ve got a show to put on.”

She winked and nodded her head towards the makeshift stage.

“Right.” Ladybug smiled back.  She turned towards the table, only to see Chat bowing with his hand extended to her, like some kind of cowboy-prince about to ask for a dance.

“Take the catwalk with me?” he asked.

“S-sure,” she stammered.

Alya watched Chat pull Ladybug up into the light.  The jewels on the back of her right hand gleamed a fiery red, clashing against the pink accents of his jacket.  The tiger miraculous.  Her purple dress was sleek like the animal, streaked with gold and maroon.  The colors shouldn’t have mixed, but somehow she pulled it off.  It reminded Alya of some of Marinette’s more daring designs.

“Joining Dark Horse is our very own Tiger Lily!” Mullo announced, but Alya barely heard her.

“I still can’t believe Ladynoir is real,” Alya said, never taking her eyes off of them.

Nino chuckled.  “You sound just like my—”

His eyes met hers, glinting amber beneath the black mask.  He hadn’t changed his sclera like Chat Noir or Lady Noire.  She’d already known his identity, but if she hadn’t, she hoped that moment would have sealed it.

“Like who?” She flashed a grin.

“Alya?” he replied in a breathless whisper.

She pressed a finger to his lips.  He could probably feel her out-of-control pulse through her fingertip.

“It’s about time, Shelley.”

“You—you knew?”

She looked up at the table.  “Dark Horse” and “Tiger Lily” danced without a second glance towards them.

“Let’s keep some plausible deniability.” She took his right hand, spinning the black cat’s ring around his finger.  “Just in case.”

Nino’s eyes flickered to the dancing couple.

“Do you really think… if they knew we knew…?”

She shrugged.  “No idea.”

“They should know.  They trust us.”

Alya bit her lip.  “I know.  I’ll talk to Ladybug, just… let’s have fun tonight, okay?”

In case it was the last chance they had.

“Rena.” Nino squeezed her hand.  “They trust us.  It’s going to be okay.”

She nodded, trying to absorb his confidence.

“Now come on.”  She tugged him up onto the table, where Tikki’s spotlight illuminated her two-piece red suit.  “I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing.”

Nino blinked, his face flushing.

“Nope.  You definitely didn’t.”

His own suit was definitely inspired by Megamind—an unwieldy but appropriately dramatic cape, thigh-high boots that ended in amber trim at the top. Alya smirked and flicked one of his black leather ears.

“You clean up pretty well yourself.”

There was only so much room on the coffee table.  It was no surprise that Ladybug and Chat Noir would notice their quiet flirting.

“Uh.” Nino looked over Alya’s shoulder and gulped.

Alya snuck a glance, but only saw Dark Horse giving them a thumbs-up.

“Eyes over here, Shelley.” She grinned back at him and placed his hand on her waist.  “If we go down, we’ll go down with style.”

Nino’s eyes softened.  He adjusted her yellow dragon-scale tie for her, then led her in a slow back-and-forth sway to the background music.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Chapter Text

“You are the dancing queeeeen, young and sweet, only seventeeeeeen,” Chat Noir sang loud enough to be heard over the running sink and Marinette’s vacuum.

She couldn’t help laughing; as talented as he was in other areas, he wouldn’t be starring in any musicals anytime soon.  That was probably for the best—she’d heard that Cats was a flop, anyway.

She finished sucking up popcorn kernels from under the couch and unplugged the vacuum just in time to hear a knock at the door.

Chat turned off the tap and asked, “Since when do Carapace or Rena knock?”

“Maybe they’re just making sure we’re not in here, um, making out or something?” Marinette blushed.  “Not that we would be! But, um, they don't know that?”

Marinette and Chat had spent the night in the bedroom after the other two left. Rena might know Marinette was ace now, but that didn't mean she knew all of their boundaries.

“I know what you mean, Bugaboo.” Chat stepped over and kissed her cheek, then flicked one of her pigtails with his still-wet claws.  (He liked to stay transformed while washing to keep his delicate hands from drying out.)

“Gross.” She stuck her tongue out at him and combed the water out with her fingers.  

“You love me.” He smiled in the way that made his eyes crinkle beneath his mask, and yeah, he had her there.

"I'm coming in, so everyone better be decent," Rena called from outside, making Marinette blush again.

“C’mon, Rena, you know us better than that,” Chat replied cheekily as Rena entered, fully transformed.  “We’re never decent.  We’re miraculous.”

Marinette snorted at his joke, even though she’d heard variations of it hundreds of times by now. 

“Of course.” Rena’s voice was dull as she entered, and the pun hadn’t even gotten a sigh out of her.

“Rena?” Marinette pushed the vacuum aside and rushed to her.  “Are you okay?”

Her mask couldn’t hide the puffiness of her eyes.  They’d all stayed up late last night, but not late enough to cause that.

“I need to tell you something,” she blurted.  

Warning alarms went off in Marinette’s mind.  Had Rena learned something about Hawkmoth? Had the stress gotten too much for her after all? Had someone found out her identity? Oh no what if they were blackmailing her with her identity and she was going to leave the team and Marinette would never see her again— 

“I-it’s not that bad!” Rena waved her hands.  “At least, I don’t think it is? But you might want to sit down…”

“Um.” Chat Noir was drying off his gloves with the kitchen towel.  “Did you want me to go, or…”

“No, I can tell both of you.  You’re both the Guardians, right?”

Marinette’s heart felt like an elevator in free fall.

“Someone knows.” She gripped Rena’s arm for support.  Too late to make it to the couch.  “Who is it?  Have they hurt you?”

“What?”  Rena’s eyes widened.  “No, it’s not like that!  Carapace would never hurt me.”

“It’s Carapace?” Chat seemed to materialize at Marinette’s side, but that was probably just because she’d blacked out for a second.

Carapace.  It was just Carapace.

But Carapace knew Rena Rouge’s identity. No one was supposed to know!  If Carapace was akumatized, then— 

Then they had worse problems.  Because Carapace knew the location of the base.  The location of the Miracle Box.

“My lady?” Chat said quietly, squeezing her hand that wasn’t busy cutting off Rena’s circulation.  “Hey, we’re going to be okay, okay? Breathe.”

She breathed. She released Rena’s wrist.

“I’m so sorry, Ladybug.” Rena squeezed her eyes shut. “I didn’t want to hurt you like this.”

All of her plans to keep their identities safe.  All the backup masks, the covers for their personal belongings—it didn’t matter.  Something had been bound to slip through the cracks.

What surprised her most was that it was Rena of all people.  Marinette had half-expected her to figure out their identities, but never the opposite.

“I know his identity too. That’s probably important to know, huh?” Rena gave a mirthless laugh.  “I actually figured him out first.  It’s hard not to recognize your boyfriend.”

Oh. No wonder they’d suddenly seemed so close last night.  They’d been in love this whole time… but thanks to Marinette’s rules, they’d never known it.

“What are you thinking, my lady?” Chat asked.  “My miraculous doesn’t let me read minds.”

Now that would be a disaster.

“Sorry.  It’s just… a lot to take in.” She let go of Chat’s hand and rubbed her temples. “Let’s sit down.”

They did.  Rena looked like she expected the couch cushion to catch fire.

“Are you going to take our miraculouses?”  she asked, flinching as if she already knew the answer.

Chat gave Marinette a sad look, as if he knew what was coming too.

They were both wrong.

“No,” Marinette said quietly.

“What?” Rena’s eyes widened, and Marinette took her hands.

“You’re part of the team.  You and Carapace both,” she said.  “I was shocked when you told me, but we couldn’t do this without you.  Right, Chat?”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, my lady.” He grinned.

“You… really?” Rena blinked.  “You’re not mad?”

Mad? No. Terrified? Absolutely.  Not for the reasons Rena might guess, though.  

If this identity reveal wasn’t as big of a deal as Marinette had feared… then what was stopping them from all trusting each other with their identities? Had she been wrong to keep them apart all this time?

“Sorry,” she forced a smile, “I’m still wrapping my head around everything. But it’s not your fault.”

“The power of love’s pretty strong, huh?” Chat glanced at her from the corner of his eye, though he directed his words at Rena. “You and Carapace must have something really special to recognize each other even with all the disguises.”

“I can’t believe it took me so long, honestly,” Rena admitted, looking away.  “And I pushed our rivalry so hard before that.  It’s a miracle he didn’t break up with me when he found out.”

“Perks of dating the turtle holder,” Chat joked, “he’s a pretty patient guy.”

They all laughed at that, and a few tears slipped free down Rena’s cheeks.

“Sorry.” She sniffed and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Didn’t mean to get so emotional on you guys.”

Marinette squeezed her shoulder gently.

“Hey.  We’re here for you, Rena.  You’ve always been here for me, and… I mean, I meant it when I said we couldn’t do this without you.  I couldn’t do this without you.”

Rena’s solid thinking and trust were like an anchor when Marinette got stuck inside her head.  Whether they were fighting akumas or talking about relationships, Rena gave indispensable advice.  Her jokes helped Marinette loosen up.  Marinette wished she could be half the person and friend that Rena was.

“You’re more than my teammate,” Marinette said.  “You’re my friend.”

“Geez.” Rena gave a wet snort.  “You really want me to cry, huh?”

“Nothing wrong with a little eye juice between friends.” Chat smiled.

Marinette gave him a look.  “You could have said literally anything else.”

“What?  You got a problem with eye juice?”

Rena burst out in a laugh.

“You guys are the best.”  

She threw her arms around the two of them—which left Marinette squished since she was sitting between them, but she didn’t mind.  There were worse places to be than sandwiched between friends.

“Trixx, let’s rest.”

Marinette let out a strangled shout, covering her eyes with her palms.  She would’ve fallen off the couch if Chat and Rena didn’t hold her in place.

“What?” Rena asked.  “If Carapace knows, you should too, right?”

“I think that’s fair,” Chat replied, giving Marinette a light squeeze.  “C’mon, bugaboo. I think you’ll want to see this.”

Did she?  Was she really ready for the responsibility of knowing another holder’s secret identity?  What if she knew her in her civilian life? What if they hated each other? 

“She doesn’t have to,” Rena said quickly.  “I should have asked first.”

Marinette took a deep breath and peeked through her fingers.

Wavy auburn-tipped hair.  A familiar flannel.  Marinette’s eyes traveled upward, until she finally saw Alya’s nervous smile.

“Surprise?” 

Marinette’s breath caught.  If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought Rena was using Mirage, showing Marinette the best-case scenario.  But Trixx flew over and pushed Marinette’s hanging jaw shut.

“Staring’s rude, y’know,” the kwami said, breaking the spell.

With a breathless laugh, Marinette pulled her best friend into another crushing hug.

“Wow,” she gasped out.  “Didn’t know you were that big a fan.”

A fan? Oh—the Ladyblog. Right.  At least Marinette had some excuse for why a giddy laugh burst from her.

“Of course Trixx picked you.  You’re the superhero expert,” she said.  

“I do have pretty great taste.” Trixx smirked, nonchalantly inspecting the back of his claws.  “I told you Ladybug would agree, Captain Alya.”

Of course she did.  Marinette couldn’t have picked a better miraculous holder than Alya if she’d tried—and she had tried.  That first day, when Marinette had been sure she’d fail, she’d almost given Alya the earrings.  It was fate that Alya would be a hero one way or another. 

“How hard has it been for you to keep all this off the Ladyblog?” Marinette asked with a knowing grin. This revelation certainly explained why Rena Rouge’s page had more photos than the rest of them.

Alya groaned.  “It’s been a nightmare.  I deserve a medal for having this much self-control.”

“I’ll get right on that.” Chat laughed.

Marinette still couldn’t believe it.  All this time, she’d thought she and Alya were drifting further apart, between akuma fights and college coursework… but she’d been right here this whole time.  Closer than ever.

One day—hopefully soon—Alya would know that Marinette had been by her side all along, too.  

For now, Marinette held her tight, and hoped she wouldn’t question why she was leaking “eye juice” too.

Chapter Text

“Can’t you just borrow Trixx from Alya and take the exam for me?” Marinette sighed, flopping back against Chat’s chest. She was glad they weren’t suited up—his red sweatshirt made a good pillow, and she didn’t have to worry about his bell jingling in her ear.

“I thought I was supposed to be the lapcat here,” he joked, but he kissed the top of her head and scooted back against the armrest to give her more space.

“You can be my lapcat for the low price of taking my final.” 

She dropped her physics textbook on her stomach. It wasn’t like she was going to get much more use out of it.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were being serious.” He combed his fingers through her hair, and she relaxed a little more. 

She was serious. But he’d never let her live it down if a Physics exam was what finally pushed her to reveal her identity—nevermind that she’d been considering telling him for weeks now.

“I’m seriously wondering why I did this to myself,” she still grumbled. If she could use Chat as a chair, maybe she’d pass. The science knowledge could flow into her by osmosis.

“Why did you take Physics?” he asked while braiding the left side of her hair. “You’re not a science major. There are easier physical science gen eds.”

Marinette blushed. She had a reason for taking Physics, but it was stupid to begin with, and entirely irrelevant now.

“Great. I’ll probably have to take one of those after I fail this final.” 

“Ladybug.” He poked her cheek. “You are not going to fail. I barely even had to help you with angular momentum.”

“But you did have to help me. Ladybug! With angular momentum!” She tugged on her hair until he gently swatted her hands away. “I’ve been using angular momentum in battle for years!”

“Yeah, but swinging around isn’t really the same as doing math about it,” he pointed out.

She groaned and rolled over, knocking the Physics book onto the ground. The braid Chat had been working on fell out of shape.

“Aww, I’m going to have to start over…” he mumbled.

“I took it because I wanted to impress a boy.” Her voice was muffled against his sweatshirt. 

She didn’t know why she bothered to say it. It didn’t matter. She guessed that since it didn’t matter, though, there was no point in not telling him.

“Come again?”

She lifted up her head and glared at his smirk. He’d totally heard her.

“I had a crush on a boy, and I wanted to impress him by being good at Physics. Happy?”

Chat laughed. “What kind of nerd would care if you were good at Physics or not?”

“...He probably wouldn’t have cared.” She propped herself up on her elbows, frowning thoughtfully. “Not that he doesn’t care in general. He cares a lot. But I just… ugh. Why am I talking about this, again?”

“Because I’m your partner and you trust me with everything, including your embarrassing secrets.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows, making the black cloth mask dance over his face. She couldn’t help letting out a giggle. 

“You know plenty of my embarrassing secrets already.”

“And you know plenty of mine.” He smiled, his eyes half-lidded. 

What she wouldn’t give to kiss him on the eyelids and let him carry her to bed. It was… midnight? One? She couldn’t see the microwave clock from this angle. Tikki and Plagg were already asleep, at least.

“I guess I do, Bananoir.” She smirked.

“You think that’s one of my most embarrassing secrets?” He laughed. “I’m not sure that would even make the top five.”

“Really?” Her brow furrowed. “You must be really embarrassing in your civilian life, then.”

“Heh. You have no idea.”

“I guess it didn’t have to do with crushes, at least.”

Chat had been devoted to her for as long as she’d known him. She didn’t take it for granted anymore, but he didn’t make a big deal out of all the times she had. He would only be more upset if she beat herself up over it.

“You’d be surprised.” He bit his lip.

Wow. He actually did look embarrassed.

She sat up, giving him room to straighten up against the armrest again.

“It’s nothing you’d be jealous of, don’t worry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It was just—man. Really stupid stuff.”

“I'm not going to be jealous, kitty.” She lightly flicked his nose. “I’m just curious about what could be more embarrassing than wearing a banana suit in public.”

“Heh. Well.” He swallowed. “I—”

“If it’s that bad, you don’t have to tell me,” she said quickly. She didn’t want him to dredge up any bad memories just to satisfy her curiosity.

“—I pretended to be a statue as a prank and then my friend kissed me.”

He finished his sentence in one breath, which was fitting, because he’d knocked the breath out of her too.

She’d been studying Physics, not Statistics. Still, she was pretty sure the odds of that happening to anyone besides her were less than zero.

“It wasn’t her fault!” Chat was quick to misread her stunned expression. “She didn’t know I was aro, and, uh, that I wasn’t a statue—maybe?” His brow furrowed. “I’m still not sure about that. I think she was pranking me back, because why else would anyone talk about being molded together in the plaster of—”

“Destiny.”

His eyes went wide. She swallowed, but didn’t break his gaze.

“What—did you…” 

“That was the most embarrassing moment of my life.” She forced a little smile. “I couldn’t forget those words if I tried. I did try.”

Her heart pounded, but for once, she wasn’t afraid. This was her kitty. Her partner. No matter who else he was—even if he was him—she didn’t have to be embarrassed. Not anymore.

“Marinette,” he breathed, breaking out into a grin. That grin quickly dropped off in favor of horror. “About the statue thing—I’m so sorry—”

“Forget it, kitty.” She smiled back and pulled him into a hug. “For the record, it wasn’t a prank. Fifteen year old me was just that stupid.”

He laughed, tangling his hands in her hair, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I was that stupid first,” he said.

“It’s not a competition. We can both be stupid.”

He gave another breathless laugh—maybe because she was squeezing all the breath out of him. She couldn’t bring herself to let go, though.

He was him. He was Adrien. After the initial lightning-shock, every piece settled into place, like it had been waiting to for years.

“Then—when you kissed statue-me—”

“You were the nerd I wanted to impress. Even back then.”

She finally pulled back, so she could watch him put the puzzle pieces together.

“Wait. You’re telling me you thought I’d like you more if you were good at Physics?”

“Okay, it’s not just fifteen year old me who was stupid.” She blushed. Maybe she wasn’t completely done being embarrassed.

“Twenty year old me is stupid!” Chat—Adrien—buried his face in his hands. “Ladybug had a crush on me for years, and I didn’t even notice!”

Marinette giggled. “I’m honestly surprised you didn’t figure it out—I mean, that I had a crush on you, not that I was Ladybug.”

“Hey, give me a break. I was stupid, but you were confusing on purpose.” He stuck out his tongue. 

“I was confusing on accident. I was just that bad at talking to you—Adrien-you, anyway.”

No wonder she’d always been enamored with Chat’s eyes while he wasn’t transformed. That same shade of green, because they were the same. And they held the same softness, which shined through as he took her hand.

“Are you going to be okay now?” he asked, his fingers slotting into place between hers. Light, careful, yet twitching with something more desperate. “It’s still me—I’m still me. I know you didn’t want to know—”

“I did,” she interrupted. “I did want to know. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but ever since Alya and Nino revealed their identities… I wanted to know you. More than anything.”

Adrien smiled, a wide open-mouthed smile that lit up his eyes. Tears welled in the corners, soaked into his mask, turned the black fabric a shade darker.

“Sorry, I just—it’s hard to believe this is happening, you know?” 

“Yeah. It’ll probably hit me tonight when I’m trying to sleep.” 

She doubted she could put off freaking out forever. She was Marinette, after all. For now, though, the early-late hour and Adrien’s arms wrapped her in a sense of peace she’d never known.

“It is tonight. And we probably should be trying to sleep,” he pointed out, then grinned. “In case you forgot, you still owe me a turn as the little spoon.”

She flushed at the memory. She’d slept with Adrien—not like that, of course, but still. She’d thought she’d never feel as comfortable in Adrien’s arms as she did Chat’s. The irony smacked her like a wet towel.

“I do, don’t I?” She grinned back. “You’re forgetting something first, though.”

“Huh? What?”

Slowly, so he could stop her if he wanted, she brushed her fingers across the edge of his cloth mask. Slipped her thumbs beneath the fabric, slid it up, over his head.

Watched his green eyes blink at her, so familiar, and yet brand new.

“Can I…?” he asked in return, and she nodded.

Heat blessed each spot where his fingertips touched her face. She closed her eyes as he lifted the cloth from over them; then cool air replaced the warmth where it had rested. Raw, open, free.

“Marinette.” The smile shone through his voice.

She opened her eyes, and finally said the name that had been etched into her heart since she was fourteen.

“Adrien.”

Chapter Text

Home. Home. The word pounded in Adrien’s mind with every step-stomp-splash of his boots across the drowning rooftops.

Marinette would understand. Nino and Alya too. He couldn’t stay there, had hardly been able to stop himself from choking-drowning when the quicksilver mask had dissolved from Hawkmoth’s face.

From his father’s face.

The rain-tears-rain stung his eyes. He stumbled his landing, retracted his staff as he scrambled into the sewer. Like a rat fleeing from a clap of thunder.

Thunder. Boom-crash-flash, sharp and hot as a knife. Loud and roaring like the water through the sewers, threatening to surge onto the concrete path, sweep him away to where he’d never be seen again.

He would almost welcome it. But he had to get home. Home.

H-O-M-E. Hands shaking, he twisted the pieces of the lock one-by-one. The padlock fell apart, clanking to the concrete, and he scooped it up to his chest. 

Home. 

Turned the handle.

Home.

Stepped into the dark.

Home.

No one was home. They were still at his not-home, picking up the pieces, handling the fallout. He should’ve been glad they weren’t here, because if they were, then he’d have to be up there, looking into his father’s-and-Nathalie’s eyes, searching for an explanation where there was none, none, that could justify the damage and horror of the past six years.

(Not even the cracked coffin in the basement, leaking out life support like a final breath.)

He collapsed onto the couch, the familiar smell of Capri Sun stains and aged cheese and Alya’s air freshener anchoring him. Maybe he’d never move. Never show his unmasked face again. Let Adrien Agreste die with Hawkmoth and Mayura. 

(Adrien Agreste had died, over and over again, from Space Cadet to Timebreaker. His father had killed him.)

He shook. He cried into the creases in the spotted couch, more blots that wouldn’t wash out. 

Distantly, he knew he should detransform. That Plagg was exhausted. But he couldn’t bring his cracked throat to speak. 

He was home. But home wouldn’t be here until Marinette-Nino-Alya were.

Somewhere between his sobs, the adrenaline must have crashed, because somehow he woke to a gentle hand smoothing his cheek.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Marinette said quietly.

He blinked crusty salt from his eyes. The lamp was on in the corner, casting a yellow glow across the room, turning stray strands of her black hair a dark gold. She was still suited, too.

Ladybug and Chat Noir. Home.

“Are… you okay?” he rasped out. The sleep hadn’t done anything for his dry throat. 

“I’m supposed to be asking you that,” she huffed affectionately. 

She squeezed onto the couch, adjusting his head on her lap. Home.

“But we got… everything taken care of, if that’s what you mean.” She looked away, her fingers twitching above his hair, but not touching. He reached up and wove their hands together.

“Thank you.” He closed his eyes again. Before he could start crying. He didn’t need to dry out even more.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know he was…”

“No one did. It’s okay.” A deep, shuddering breath. 

It wasn’t okay. What his father had done could never be okay. Marinette had given up so much because of Hawkmoth’s unyielding onslaught. Scars that went deeper than her miracle cure could fix.

“No, it’s not,” she echoed his thoughts. “You don’t have to be, either. He was—he was—”

“He was willing to kill us all, if it meant getting what he wanted.” Adrien’s fists clenched. “He’s not—he’s not my father. Not… in any way that matters.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, dude.”

Adrien’s eyes opened at Nino’s voice. He stepped through the portal from the bedroom, Alya following with the Miracle Box. None of the kwamis were inside, though—they all hovered about his friends’ heads, various looks of concern on their tiny faces. Two new kwamis were among them, who Adrien could only guess were Nooroo and Duusu.

“Alya? Nino?” Marinette blinked.

“The police have everything under control,” Alya answered her unspoken question, moving to sit on the coffee table. “I know you planned to leave the miraculouses with the temporary holders for now, but the kwamis…”

“They didn’t want to leave you hanging.” Nino smiled, though his eyes were creased with sadness behind his goggles. “And we didn’t, either.”

Adrien let out a soft chuckle. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

Quietly, they each said their detransformation phrase, releasing the last four kwamis. Four more friends who flocked to Adrien’s side, offering what comfort they could.

“Good riddance to that stinky cheese, huh?” Plagg murmured. “He didn’t age anything like a sweet camembert.”

“Plagg, be more sensitive!” Tikki hushed him. “He just lost his family!”

“No,” Adrien breathed. 

Nothing Plagg said could hurt any worse than what Adrien had already felt. And that was Father’s—Gabriel’s—fault alone.

“You guys are my family. All of you.” He squeezed Marinette’s hand. “If it wasn’t for you guys…”

“Nooroo and I would still be stuck with those awful awful people!” Duusu said, spinning a somersault in midair.

“We humbly look forward to serving your family,” Nooroo added, sounding nervous. “If you can forgive us for the evil our powers have caused.”

“Captain Alya and her friends know better than that!” Trixx said. 

“You had no choice,” Wayzz added.

Adrien held out his free hand, and after a brief hesitation, Nooroo alighted on it.

“Of course we forgive you,” Adrien said softly. “And you’re not a servant here. You are family.”

Nooroo looked up at him with wide eyes, his tiny wings twitching. How would it feel, to have wings and never be able to fly away?

“It’s not the same, I know, but I know how it feels to be trapped in that house,” Adrien added.

At least he’d been able to escape. He’d been Chat Noir, and then he’d removed one step further to the gray apartment, and then he’d practically lived Here. Home.

Marinette’s grip tightened on his other hand.

“You’re never going to be trapped again,” she said. “None of you.”

“Though, uh. You might want to lay low down here until the press calms down.” Nino rubbed the back of his head, and Adrien smiled.

He’d face the cameras and questions eventually, like he’d done for most of his life. He wasn’t overly frightened of that. No matter what everyone else thought, he would have his family beside him.

“That sounds like a good plan. I wouldn’t mind some company, in the meantime, though,” he admitted. “I mean, I know you guys are tired, you literally defeated Hawkmoth—”

“We defeated Hawkmoth. That includes you.” Marinette brushed his bangs from his face. “And you know we’d never leave you alone after that.”

“Yeah, dude!”

“I’m pretty sure we can all cram into the bedroom, if you don’t mind Trixx’s snoring.” Alya grinned.

Adrien’s chest lightened in relief. Being cramped together with his best friends sounded perfect right now.

“Marinette’s the one you have to watch out for.” He winked. “I thought the subway was crashing through the base last time.”

“Hey—!” She gently flicked his forehead as Alya and Nino laughed.

“I thought you grew out of that, girl,” Alya said.

“I’m probably just allergic to catboys,” Marinette joked in turn. “Oh well. It’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

She kissed the spot that she’d flicked moments before, and warmth spread through him.

“I guess I’ll just have to pay for some ear plugs, so we’re even.” He grinned back.

Later that night, after they had all cleaned up, they piled onto the mattress with the kwamis tucked among them. The soft chatter of their voices, of friends reacquainting after so long, was a welcome reassurance of what they’d done.

They’d saved Paris. They’d reunited a family. If Adrien’s own biological family was gone—well, Gabriel had made that choice long ago. Father hadn’t been Adrien’s home in six years, if he’d ever been.

Adrien curled up against Marinette’s side, Nino’s arm flopped over his waist. From Nino’s other side, Alya’s feet occasionally stretched out to bump his, as if to remind Adrien that she was there, too.

“You’re stuck with us like the rind on brie,” Plagg teased before falling asleep.

Adrien was. And there was no better place to be stuck than Home.