#god I live for him feeling comfortable in his skin no pressure just FEELIN HIMSELF

[pja2jae]

It’s his birthday but we’re getting the gifts! 💁🏻‍♀️🖤

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Truth and Love - Part Four (of Four)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

As they sat down to dinner, it was clear that the tension in the air remained intact, a building pressure seeking an outlet yet to be found.

The elder Ian attempted to make polite conversation and his oldest son, Jamie, responded in kind but the larger portion of the party let cutlery scraping their plates do the talking.

Claire could feel Jenny’s eyes following her every time she lifted her fork to her mouth or set it down to reach for her glass of wine. It took a great deal of self-control to keep from turning and meeting the other woman’s gaze but she knew that doing so would precipitate something that would be better handled in private. Instead Claire turned to her oldest nephew who had been baffled but warm in his welcome.

“I understand your wife and children are visiting with her mother?” Claire asked with a tilt of her head.

“No exactly. Our youngest arrived a fortnight ago,” he explained. “My wife’s mother came to help wi’ the bairns for a spell.” His face reddened sheepishly. “We heard word from Da that ye’d returned and I’ve been usin’ ye as a reason to leave the women to themselves. My mother-in-law likes me well enough but…”

“You’re not as fond of her?” Claire guessed with a smile. Her eyes darted briefly to her husband whose smiling eyes were waiting for her across the table.

“It’s no that I’m no fond of her,” the younger Jamie defended himself, “it’s that the house is… crowded… just now.”

The majority of those sitting at the table laughed with sympathy and amusement but a sudden crashing from the entryway of the house reached down the hall to grab their attention.

“Where is he?” an angry feminine voice rose at one someone near the doorway to the dining room.

Claire watched Jamie go red starting with the tips of his ears. Anger passed to fear and back to anger across his eyes before he stood with enough force to send his chair skittering back.

“Where’s that coward?” Laoghaire asked as she stormed into the dining room.

Claire looked to Jenny who was watching her and waiting to see how she would react. Claire held her sister-in-law’s gaze for several beats––long enough to see something like regret cross Jenny’s face before hardening with a surge of her Fraser stubbornness.

“Laoghaire, I dinna ken why ye’ve come barging in just now when we’re sat down to our suppers,” Jamie addressed the fuming woman, “but I’ll thank ye to stop yer bellowing and wait for me in the sitting room.”

Laoghaire scoffed. “Ye’ll no be hiding me away anymore, Jamie Fraser. Ye’ve been doing yer best of it for some time and I’ve put up wi’ it when I shouldna have done but now I hear ye’re taking up with another woman and carryin’ on as though ye’re no still wed to me…”

“In this situation,” Claire said with a raised voice as she stood and turned her attention to Laoghaire, “I believe you are the one who would be considered the ‘other woman.’”

The color drained from Laoghaire’s face and her eyes went wide with disbelief. It was a fleeting shock, however. The rage of youthful resentment and jealousy flooded her face leaving her cheeks red and splotchy where once such an emotional shift would have left her with a rather flattering flush.

“And what is’t brought you crawlin’ back from the dead? I always kent ye were a witch,” Laoghaire muttered the last under her breath.

“Disappointed your attempt on my life failed all those years ago?” Claire threw back. She caught Jamie’s hand clench suddenly into a fist at his side while the heads of everyone else at the table swiveled in her direction with jaws gaping.

Laoghaire shrank back a moment as she looked to Jamie then Jenny as though expecting one of them to object to Claire’s accusation. But Jamie’s face was filled with disgust and Jenny’s confusion.

“I thought you were just a foolish, heartsick child,” Claire lectured, “so I kept what you did to myself. But to marry my husband knowing what you did––what you did and not tell him…” Claire let all the anger and frustration that had boiled up within her as Jamie told her the night before, rise up again. She could feel the slight trembling in her hands where she leaned forward on the table. “It’s no wonder you made him so miserable.”

Laoghaire surged forward. “I made him miserable?” she shrieked.

Jenny shot to her feet. “Enough!” she cried. “Laoghaire for God’s sake, shut yer gob and get out.”

“You are asking me to leave, Jenny Murray, when ye’re the one made the match?” Laoghaire crossed her arms over her chest and sneered at the shorter woman.

“As though I needed to persuade ye on the matter.” Jenny rolled her eyes and set her hands on her hips. “Now leave before I set the dogs on ye.”

Laoghaire scoffed. “I’m no going anywhere until I’ve talked everything through with my husband.”

“I’m NOT yer husband,” Jamie said forcefully, his voice just shy of shouting. “The law and the church say I canna have two wives living and as Claire never was dead, then she’s the only wife I’ve had and that’s more than enough for me.”

Claire choked on a laugh then watched Jamie’s face turn red and the corner of his mouth twitch from the effort not to join her.

Laoghaire seemed to believe they were laughing at her.

“You are my husband!” she insisted with all the conviction of a toddler throwing a tantrum. “And ye’re the only father my lasses have left––or do ye mean to leave them fatherless again?”

“For Joanie and Marsali’s sakes, I suggest ye leave this house now,” he growled, “or I’ll no be givin’ ye anything more to help with them. It’s for their sake I’m not throwin’ ye through that door with my bare hands!” he began to rage. “Do ye mean to shame me over this now I ken what ye tried to have done to Claire? Well the shame I feel isna for puttin’ ye through all this––not anymore. No the shame I feel is for ever havin’ married ye to start.”

“Jamie,” Claire said quietly and firmly. She was watching Jenny whose hands were still on her hips. Jenny’s back was turned from Laoghaire and Jamie and she was staring intently at the empty space beside her half-finished dinner.

“Go, Laoghaire,” Jamie ordered with a tone that refused further argument. “I’ll send for a lawyer to come and see this handled properly and I’ll find a way to see Marsali and Joanie get a wee something too.”

“But nothing for me and my troubles,” Laoghaire muttered with disgust as, resigned, she turned to leave.

“I’m takin’ it as interest owed for the troubles you caused Claire at Cranesmuir,” Jamie retorted following her to be sure she left.

As soon as they were out of the dining room Jenny looked up to Claire.

“I’m sorry… I kent near as soon as it was done that it was like to be a mistake––seeing the two of them wed,” Jenny explained. “I’m sorry it was her, though I didna ken that there was anything in the past between ye. But I’ll no say I’m sorry for pushing Jamie to remarry. She wasna entirely wrong. It wasna her that made Jamie miserable––though she didna help the way I’d hoped. It was losing you did him in. And I’ll no apologize for doin’ everything in my power to help him past it.”

“I was the one agreed to the marriage,” Jamie said as he returned and overheard Jenny’s regrets. “It wasna yer place to be pushin’ me that way but it was down to me to put my foot down and I didna do so.”

“Of course it was my place to push ye that way,” Jenny retorted emphatically. “It’s been my place to look after ye that way since Mam passed. Ye’re the only brother I have left. I took care of ye when we lost Willie and Mam. I couldna help ye when Da passed but ye had Ian with ye and that was some comfort. I might not have kent where she’d gone to but I kent Claire was gone and I saw what that did to ye and it was worse than any of the others. I couldna just stand by and let that eat at ye because that would have eaten at me.”

“I was a grown man,” Jamie pressed, the lingering anger toward Laoghaire still flickering beneath the surface of his skin.

“Ye were a broken man. I hoped to find a way to hold ye together; I kent I’d never find a way to heal ye properly.” Her attention had been focused on Jamie but there was a brief flicker as her eyes momentarily darted to Claire. “Even now it doesna matter how much she heals ye, I’ll always ken where the cracks are.”

“I’m sorry, Jenny,” Claire interceded. “I should have tried harder to find a way to contact you… I was broken too. I didn’t think––”

“I can forgive ye for the grief ye caused me,” Jenny interrupted, “and there was plenty of it, Claire. Ye’re the only sister I’ve ever had and ye canna know what it meant having ye here before… But I dinna know that I can forgive ye for hurting my brother like ye did.”

“It’s no for ye to forgive her on that score,” Jamie told Jenny, the anger replaced with tenderness. “That’s for me to do as well.”

Jenny’s jaw jutted out defiantly for the briefest moment before she nodded her head in acknowledgement. “Aye well… For all ye’re bigger’n me in size… ye’ll always be the wee lad I carried about the yard because ye were too small to keep up with Willie and I hated seeing ye cry at him leavin’ ye behind.”

Jamie’s head bobbed in a faint nod. “Just so. You managed to hold me together better’n ye give yerself credit for.” He stood behind her and rested a hand lightly on her back while he bent and kissed her crown. “Thank ye.”

“Yes,” Claire agreed, rounding the table to stand on Jenny’s other side. “Thank you for taking care of him when I couldn’t. You’re the only sister I’ve ever had, too, and I’d hate to think…”

Jenny hugged Claire, cutting off the words before she could finish. “Forgiven,” she whispered low enough that only Claire could hear. “Thank ye for bringin’ him back to himself. And make certain ye bring him back here now and again,” Jenny requested. “I’ve a feelin’ ye’ll no be staying close to Lallybroch for long.”

“I will. I promise,” Claire assured her.

Fin

[marinette-sky]

Cigarettes and Leather Ch. 6

Time to spice up the story with some good ole' fashioned romance! Or, A.K.A, people who mistake their feelings of attraction as friendship! It's subtle, and it's in the context, but fear not! The build up will be worth it ;)!

I'm trying to speed things up a bit to get to the good stuff (like in the next chapter), so from here on you might see a spike in time skips to keep the ball rolling and the plot flowing.

I might have the next chapter out by next Thursday(?), or sooner depending on my mood.

Enjoy, lovelies!

Summary:  Adrien swallows his pride and asks Marinette to help him investigate the crime against Ivan and Kim. Chat Noir and Ladybug discuss the turn of events from their last meeting, and things do no go as planned.

Word Count: 4,106

Rating: T+

Adrien shifted awkwardly to one side, digging his hands deeper into the recesses of his jacket pockets. He felt out of place in the living room of the Dupain-Cheng household, his usual rugged appearance largely contrasting with the rosé and white themed décor of the space. It was a far cry from what he was used to seeing in his own home considering his father’s love for white walls and linoleum floors with black granite accents. Sabine had encouraged him to ‘make himself comfortable’, but he was almost reluctant to ruin the pleasant image of the room by claiming a spot on their champagne pink couch.

Too much has happened for me to feel at ease anyways.

He listened to the sound of Sabine banging on what had to be Marinette’s bedroom door, trying to decipher what she shouted before he heard her push something heavy open. A feminine voice responded back, and the ceiling creaked with the weight of someone moving around above him.

I came here for one reason, and one reason only…

Sabine materialized at the bottom of the stairs with a strange smile that wasn’t quite like the one she wore when she first greeted him. While he found it almost unsettling, Adrien quickly brushed the feeling aside and squared his shoulders. His main concern had just rushed past the giddy woman and stopped a few feet short of where he stood.

…Marinette.

“You’re okay…” Marinette spoke aloud with a relieved sigh, her intense stare panning the length of his body.

Adrien couldn’t help but notice the frazzled state his friend was in.

Her pig-tails were lopsided and frizzy, the red hair ties placed at different lengths on each sides. The blazer she sported was slightly off, despite the obvious effort that had been put in to iron it. Her skirt was ruffled in areas, even with the pleated design to keep it from crumpling. One of her socks had smudges of ink on it.

She looked as discombobulated as he felt.

“Yeah.” Adrien nodded, the word sounding laden and foreign as it rolled off his tongue.

Liar.

Just tell her what you came for.

Adrien glanced fleetingly at Sabine and frowned.

Marinette mimicked his expression.

“I need to talk to you. Alone.” He kept his voice low, pleading almost. “It’s about what happened.” All the bravado he had gathered on the trip here seemed to fall through the cracks of his tough exterior like sand. Just the mere acknowledgement of the incident was enough to send him spiraling into the depths of despair while simultaneously bringing his blood to a boil.

Judging by the look on Marinette’s face, she understood what he was talking about.

“Okay.” She said simply, her tone all but sepulchral.

She twisted around to address her mother, who he suspected had hung back and let them talk out of motherly politeness. The woman, now concerned by their solemn demeanor, lifted her chin to attention.

“Mama, do you mind giving us some privacy? Please?” Marinette requested quietly, holding Sabine’s gaze for a few moments.

An unspoken conversation passed between them before the ladder broke the silence.

“Of course, sweetie.” Sabine agreed hesitantly. She took uncertain steps towards them, and Adrien could practically see the worry lines in her forehead deepening.

(Who could blame her? I wouldn’t want my cute daughter to be alone with some guy they didn’t know.)

She stopped and pecked a kiss on Marinette’s cheek, squeezing her shoulder in a comforting way. Adrien knit his brows in discomfort; he was unversed when it came to witnessing such open displays of support and affection in light of the fact that he ceased receiving that luxury when his mother disappeared.

So unversed, apparently, that he flinched when Sabine patted his arm nicely.

“It was nice to meet you, Adrien. I’m guessing you’re the one who Marinette has been texting so often?” Sabine remarked warmly, catching Adrien completely off guard.

Oh. He thought, the crisis at hand momentarily forgotten. Heh.

“Mama!” Marinette hissed, turning pink. “Really?!”

The older woman smirked and whisked down the winding stairs that lead to the bakery without another word, the younger continuing to make indignant sounds after her. It was sort of endearing.

“Hell, darlin’, do you not text anyone else except me?” Adrien teased dryly once Sabine was safely out of hearing range, allowing himself a small grin. “I’m flattered!”

Marinette whirled around to face him, lips puckering into an embarrassed pout.

“No! I text everyone an equal amount, thank you very much.” She scrunched her nose meticulously and crossed her arms.

“But you still text me more, right?” Adrien chirped, removing his hands from his pockets to reveal a lighter and a cigarette pack. “Right?”

“I won’t tell. I guess you’ll have to live in suspense the rest of your life.” Marinette retorted cheekily, laying a hand over her heart. “How tragic.”

“Oh, indeed.” Adrien conceded, and just like that their banter hit a blissful lull.

Well.

The male absently knocked a cig from its encasement with his palm, holding it between his index finger and thumb. He tucked the pack back where it came from, disturbing Plagg in his hiding place. He knew well enough that Marinette would refuse if he offered her one.

I sure as hell need one right now, though.

Especially after what has happened…

Adrien began to remember his purpose for visiting and sobered up quickly. Their light-hearted atmosphere shriveled up like a leaf in winter the moment the end of the cigarette caressed his lips.

“May I?” He gestured to the lighter, waiting for Marinette’s approval. She grimaced, but nodded anyways.

Adrien took a few seconds to light the other end of the cig, sighing contently as he breathed in the smoke and watched it escape back out through his nostrils. This went on for a full two minutes before he spoke again.

“Sorry, I needed to relax a bit first. The whole Kim and Ivan situation has got me feelin’ like shit.” Adrien began roughly, coughing around the lump in his throat that definitely wasn’t residual tar from his smoking habit.

God, this is harder than I thought.

“You’re not alone, I feel just as bad.” Marinette sympathized, looking too guilty for someone who had nothing to do with the crime. For some reason, his heart ached painfully from seeing her crestfallen expression.

I should be the one wallowing in self-pity, not Marinette.

She’s too compassionate for her own good. Another voice echoed. And you’re not.

“…” He let the quiet surround them for a few more minutes, because talking about what happened was so damn hard and his request was too damn much to ask of someone. Damn his father for raising him to be this emotionally constipated for the benefit of his modeling career!

“…fuck!” He muttered, running his free hand through his already-messy blonde hair.

Chat Noir is so much better at this.

I’m just too prideful.

Gentle hands found his knuckle, curving around the underside of his fingers with the lightest of pressure. Warm skin brushed his cheek bone.

“Adrien, what did you want to talk about?” Marinette pressed, voice sharp and soft all at the same time. Under the scrutiny of her endlessly azure eyes, Adrien found the words that had refused to come out creep up his throat. When she caressed his hand fully, it all came spilling past his chapped lips.

“I have a big favor to ask of you. Like, a huge favor. Bigger than I should dare ask.” Adrien rasped, leaning into the friendly touch.

“No matter what you ask of me, I’ll still try my hardest to do it. That’s a promise.” Marinette gave a hint of a smile, giving him more courage.

Here goes nothing.

“Where Kim and Ivan were, where they were…there’s a bar near the crime scene, and I know the owner’s daughter. Can you go with me, this Friday night? To kind of investigate this mess, I mean?” Adrien rushed with his words, the hand holding his cigarette shaking from anxiety.

Marinette blinked in shock at him, her own hand falling back to her side.

“I feel like you can hold your own pretty well, and I feel I can’t ask anyone else to do this with me…and I just trust you for some reason. It’s no coincidence that Kim and Ivan were targeted, and I think I might have to do with me.” He took a quick puff of his cig to calm him nerves, accidentally blowing the smoke in his friend’s face; yet, she didn’t seem fazed.

“I-I…well, what about Ladybug and Chat Noir? Don’t you think you should leave stuff like this to them?” Marinette asked in a weird tone, her stare painstakingly neutral. Adrien noticed that whenever the topic of Ladybug and Chat Noir came up, Marinette became a different person; her shoulders tightened and she tended to avert her eyes from whoever she was talking to. Adrien thought it was odd to behave that way about individuals who saved lives on a day-to-day basis, but always chalked it up to shyness.

Not the time! A voice in his head admonished.

“Unless Ladybug or Chat Noir themselves demands that I stop, than I don’t think we should worry about them right now.” Adrien answered lightly, trying to divert attention away from his alter-ego.

Marinette brought a pale finger to her bottom lip, tapping on it thoughtfully. Where she compressed the plump skin, there was an obvious red mark left in her immaculately rounded nail’s wake.

“Why me? Why not ask Nino, or heaven forbid, Chloé to help you? I know Lila knows a few things about what happened, too.” She argued, forcing Adrien to look up from her lips.

What the hell would Lila know? Adrien made a mental note to pester his sly friend later.

“Because.” He motioned vaguely, cigarette smoke following closely behind his hand.

“Because what?” She was trying to be modest at this point.

He grinned wryly.

“Like I said before, darlin’, I trust you. My crew would just fuck things up, or anger the wrong person. I know you won’t make their mistakes, you’re too cunning for that to happen.” Marinette pinked at the ears from his compliment, fighting to keep her mouth from upturning in embarrassment. Adrien allowed himself to be pleased at the sight.

“Besides, you said yourself you would do your best to help me. Are you going to go back on your word?” He ventured so far as to tease, holding his cig between his teeth masterfully.

Marinette made a face at him.

“No, I like to keep the promises I make, thank you very much. I’ll help you, since you put so much faith into me.” She threaded her fingers in her air, sighing. “And even if not for you, my sense of justice would want to do it for Kim and Ivan. They may have gotten under my skin more times than I can count, but those two didn’t deserve this.”

“Agreed. For Kim and Ivan.” Adrien echoed solemnly.

A chasm of silence opened between them as they looked at each other, both mute with hidden thoughts that could not be voiced.

Adrien continued to smoke his cig, feeling slightly guilty for the scent that would settle on the furniture when he would eventually put it out.

Marinette peered over him in that curious way of hers, and he briefly wished that he was a mind reader if only he could know what she was thinking.

“Anything happen at school today? Didn’t have it in me to be in that hell hole this morning.” Adrien broke the quiet, shaking himself of inappropriate misconceptions that his train of thought would lead to.

Marinette appeared visibly exhausted at the mention of school, leaning towards him in the familiar way that Nathalie would whenever he bothered to ask her how an interview with a troublesome client went. Through the cloud of nicotine-smelling fog, he caught the whiff of freshly baked cookies that most likely clung to her uniform based on the fact that she lived above a bakery.

“Where do I even begin?”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow in dry humor.

“That bad?” He questioned.

“That bad.” Marinette nodded before diving into the shit show that was their homeroom earlier that day.

Tuesday Night

Chat Noir, for once, was early for patrol that evening.

He hovered on the outskirts of the rooftop of their meeting place, pacing back and forth before ultimately deciding to settle criss-cross on the ledge until Ladybug arrived. The harsh bite of uneven concrete dug into his rear, but Chat ignored it in favor of watching the moon usher away the lingering signs of the previous day. Although the night sky was overhead, brightly colored streaks of amber and violet chased the horizon line in lieu of the setting sun.

Adrien loved this time of day, when the moon became more prominent and the sun became a flurry of hues and contrasted the midnight sky with reds, oranges, and purples. And on any given patrol, he would try to savor such a relaxing and mesmerizing sight.

Yet…

With what has happened as of late, not even a bird’s eye view of the city and the sunset could calm the waves of anxiety in his head.

School had been terse and lonely, even with Nino and Chloé glued to his side practically the entire day. Alya, who finally realized he had developed a friendship with Marinette, had attempted to comfort their sad group (though to no avail). Everyone was on edge, understandably, because what happened to Kim and Ivan; plus, the perpetrator was still at large, so it could any one of them next.

But, the final nail in the coffin was when other students questioned where Ladybug and Chat Noir were, and why they didn’t stop the attack. This occurred in his philosophy class that he shared with Chloé, Alya, and Marinette.

Naturally, Alya and Chloé fought off the mounting accusations fiercely, defending their hero’s pride and credibility in a shocking moment of team work.

(“Ladybug and Chat Noir has saved us all countless times! Countless! They have gotten hurt for us! How dare you doubt their loyalty as the saviors of France!” Alya roared, slamming a fist on her open philosophy textbook.

“Ladybug and I are basically besties, and my bestie would have definitely stopped that criminal if she knew! Lowlifes like you have as much bravery combined as she has in her fingernail! You don’t deserve to talk about her that way, and Chat Noir too!” Chloé screeched at the class, the fire in her eyes ready to reduce anyone who made eye contact to ashes.

Adrien exchanged a look with Marinette, who smiled secretively to him, like if she herself was Ladybug, and was proud to have such vehement supporters.)

Guilt constricted Chat’s lungs upon remembering the fear and remorse on his peer’s faces, wishing with all his might that he could have prevented the attacker from ever existing. It was his duty, his required destiny, to keep the citizens of France safe. Ladybug and him were very serious about the burden put on their shoulders, which is the reason why an accident like this hasn’t come about in months.

Is it a coincidence that the people close to me were hurt? Should I really be that naïve?

If a thug had done this, the Mayor wouldn’t have been so freaky about publicizing the incident.

Could Hawkmoth know something about my identity…

He had voiced his concerns to Plagg, but his kwami brushed him aside quicker than usual, blabbing about how he was too paranoid.  Adrien suspected Plagg knew more about the situation than he was willing to let on, but didn’t pester him anymore after that. Though it had only been a few days, he felt there was something much bigger in the works between the rising tension in his kwami and the inactivity of Hawkmoth.

He could only hope Plagg would tell him what exactly has been going on before it’s too late.

Soft footfall behind him indicated that Ladybug had arrived, along with the scattering of gravel beneath latex soles. He sensed her every move as she padded towards him, seating herself on the ledge as well. Their shoulders touched, and Ladybug gently slipped her hand in his for comfort. Embarrassed heat spread across his chest, yet Chat chose to ignore the fire in his stomach for now.

When he looked at her, the stare she gave him was startling intense.

“Chat Noir, we have a problem.” Ladybug began, “I trust you’ve heard about Lê Chiến Kim and Ivan Bruel?”

“I have, yes.”  More than you know, he almost said.

“And have you watched the news lately?” Ladybug inquired, expression and tone anomalous. He dully noted that the iconic pig-tails she sported were messy and uneven, deviating from the normal stringent style he was used to.

Huh?

“Well…uh, yes? Kind of…father only lets me watch certain channels.” Adrien could only ever watch political debates and educative programs carefully selected by Nathalie that were Gabriel Approved™.

“…oh. So you haven’t heard, then?” Ladybug, in the dying light of day, paled so much that the tan dusting of freckles on her nose were starkly noticeable. “Chat, Nadja Chamack is building a story around us as the prime suspects of the crime. She did a briefing on Monday night, that damned woman making me look like the bad guy in out interview.”

His heart skipped a beat out of fear.

“Interview?”

“God…okay, let me fill you in on what happened to me the other day.” Ladybug then went on to recount her run in with Nadja Chamack, and their unsettling interview. Chat felt chills run down his spine when she told him about a mysterious outside source, flashes of the Copycat akuma haunting his vision. Additionally, she informed him of the Mayor’s sketching actions and the downward spiral of faith the populace had in them. Stuff he already knew, but details nonetheless.

But, this sounds different…could someone, like a civilian, be trying to frame us?

What is their motive?

By the time Ladybug finished her encounter, Chat’s head was spinning. How could so much change in the span of a single day? His talk with Marinette had left him hopeful, sure that her brain and brawn paired with his nefarious connections to underground Paris would upheave some dirt on their target. This entire ordeal would just make things harder for him.

“Ladybug, you don’t think anyone would fall for this ploy again…would they?” He whispered, the ice in his veins refusing to thaw.

“They have once, and they will again. At first, I thought it was some petty crime corporation that did this…now I don’t know what to think. The night that it happened, my kwami acted strange. She keeps telling me that she doesn’t know anything, but I know she’s withholding information.” Ladybug fondly caressed her earrings, tone downtrodden and worried. “What could be so dangerous that she can’t even tell me?”

“I don’t know, but my kwami has been acting like that, too. Whatever is going on, I have a sick feeling it’s all connected to Hawkmoth.” Chat thumbed his ring, pressing on the steely surface with conviction.

“I thought so, too. I did a lot of thinking yesterday, and I have reason to believe that Hawkmoth has teamed up with a willing akuma candidate. You know, civilian by day, akumatized by night? It could explain his radio silence for the last week.”

By god, she might be right.

“Yeah, you could be right!” Chat exclaimed, suddenly excited by the realization. “Heck, that mysterious source that Nadja Chamack has been talking to could be the accomplice! Ladybug, you’re a genius!”

Ladybug threw him a cheeky smirk.

“I know. Nice attention to detail yourself, because now we have a lead in this whole mess. Let’s make sure that bullshit story Nadja is building never sees the light of day!”

“Agreed, m’lady! You’ll be happy to hear that I’ve already committed to investigating outside the mask with someone.” Chat beamed proudly, the awful atmosphere from before lifting.

Our kwamis may not want to help us, but that didn’t stop Lady and I from coming up with a solid answer!

Ladybug perked curiously at his revelation.

“Really? Do you trust him? And is he trustworthy?” She prodded, leaning in slightly.

Chat couldn’t stop the blush from rising to his cheeks at her wrong assumption.

“W-Well, she’s pretty brave and kind, so yes I trust her. She’s almost as trustworthy as you, in fact. If you could meet her, I think you two would get along well.” Marinette’s gentle, but stern face bubbled to the top of his mind as he spoke. It was easier to think about her as Chat Noir than it was as Adrien, and he allowed himself to feel vulnerable as a result; the sensation was nice.

I wish Adrien could cope with emotions as well as Chat Noir.

Ladybug abruptly ripped her hand away from his, and Chat looked up just in time to catch the raw expression on her face.

What?

“She sounds dandy, but I would never want to meet her.” His partner declared coldly, standing up. “It could put both of our identities at risk.”

Chat jumped up, something dreadful curling around his heart.

“M’lady, it was just a thought. Don’t take it too seriously.” He watched as she briskly put space between them, assiduous in hiding her face from his.

She was fine when she thought Marinette was a guy…

Is she upset that it’s another girl…no, Ladybug would never be that petty…

“I would hope so! Since you trust her so much, I can only imagine what you’ve revealed to her so far.” Ladybug huffed, and crossed her arms slyly.

Did she just…

“What are you insinuating, Ladybug? That I would throw my secret away that easily?” Chat was beginning to get angry, something he never got with Ladybug. For the amount of respect and awe he held for her, he simply could not allow that reverence to overshadow the fact that she had just disrespected him.

“You said it, not me.” Ladybug sniffed.

Chat’s already short fuse became nonexistent.

“How dare you! I would never do that, not to myself, and not to you! Despite what you believe, I care about protecting who I am just as much as you! I can’t believe you have so little faith in me.” Chat was shouting, and didn’t care that someone might hear him. “What’s worse is that you don’t even know my friend, but you think she would tell everyone about my secret if I were to tell her! How can you judge her like that if you don’t know firsthand how much she reminds me of you!”

“Don’t you compare her to me, dammit!” She spun on her heel, jabbing a finger in his direction. “I’m just worried, okay?! We need to be on our guard after all that’s happened.”

Ladybug appeared as if she was about to cry, and from what Chat did not have the privilege of knowing.

“Yeah, well, it seems to me like you’re more concerned about yourself and how my actions could affect you. For someone who acts so selfless, you sure know how to be selfish.”

Ladybug stiffened at his comment. In the moonlight, he swore he saw something shiny fall from her eyes.

“Chat Noir, I think we should start patrol before both of us say something we might really regret.” Her voice was wavering, but the threat presented itself loud and clear: if he wanted to leave unscathed, this would be the time.

I see how it is.

“Fine. Run away from our problems like you do best, see if I care.” Chat waved his hand dismissively, gripping his baton in the other. “Maybe on Saturday’s patrol, you’ll be over this.”

She swiped at her watery eyes, sniffing loudly before turning her back to him. With her yoyo in hand, Ladybug leaped into the night air and promptly vanished from his line of sight.

Chat Noir did the same, vaulting in the opposite direction. Guilt pricked at his heart, though as Nathalie had told him countless times, ‘there’s no use crying over spilled milk’. Let bygones be bygones, he supposed.

 Little did he know that Ladybug wasn’t crying because she was angry at him, nor from the fact that they had a petty fight; on the contrary, she was merely suffering from a broken heart.  

Ahahaha...so not sorry for that ending. Just like canon Adrien is oblivious to Marinette's feelings, Chat Noir with canon Adrien's personality is oblivious to Ladybug's feelings for him (honestly Marinette and Ladybug in the show have a thin membrane separating their personalities, so they act the same in my eyes).

Next chapter will be centered around Adrien and Marinette's visit to the bar and crime scene, possibly with Marinette still feeling hurt over Chat's lady crush ;;;)))