#in my mind emma fell in love with paris after she visited there with her family

[lewismccartneys]

rikki left the gold coast after her dad’s death without looking back and emma stayed in england after graduating from university. neither of them expect to find each other again in paris

[cilldaracailin]

The Show Must Go On

Hello my Tumblr Lovelys!

Random thing today but it was on the news that the dolphin I saw in Kerry last week was missing for two days and they presumed he had died... Turns out he hadn’t and was spotted this morning by a fisherman. Glad to hear he is still around! 

Anywhoo, I am back with the next story in the Robyn and Taron series.

Hope you all enjoy this one!

Suze x

*Disclaimer - I don’t know Taron and this is just fiction and for the purpose of the story, anything medical related, I research thoroughly before using*

1

“There is a great difference between worry and concern. A worried person sees a problem, and a concerned person solves a problem.”

Robyn was worried. When she stepped off the podium after giving her presentation on the Irish curriculum for Early Years Education at the childcare conference in Paris, she automatically checked her phone to see if Taron had messaged her about their possible dinner plans for the evening but instead of a message from him, she had five missed calls from Lyndsey and immediately rang her back. Once Robyn managed to talk to Lyndsey after her third attempt to call her, she heard the anxious tones of his publicist’s voice.

“He is hiding it from me Robyn but I know him too well and he has been burying it for at least two if not three days.”

Taken aback by how troubled Lyndsay was, begging Robyn to come and see Taron for herself, as he refused to listen to anything Lyndsey had to say, getting nothing but angry at her for even suggesting that he was sick. Robyn had apologised to Emma, explaining that something was wrong with Taron and she had to go. Thankfully Robyn knew once she had completed her obligatory presentation, she wasn’t really needed for the rest of the afternoon and Emma had told her to go, her manager knowing she wouldn’t have been able to stop her work colleague when it came down to anything to do with the Welshman and satisfied she had fulfilled her obligations for the Saturday conference, Emma was happy to let Robyn go.

Robyn wished she had worn her converse and not heels as she sat in the taxi on her way to the hotel where Taron’s current interviews were taking place as she had literally run from the conference centre to a main road in Paris to try and hail a taxi and now her feet were killing her and with her knees shaking with nervous anticipation, it wasn’t helping her poor feet. Neither was the dark navy pinstripe suit she wore and she was feeling warm and overheated in the back of the car, the Spring weather in Paris warm and muggy but the formal wear was necessary for the presentation she had been a part of and she wasn’t taking a detour to get to her hotel first so had to make do with the warm suit and high heels to go and see Taron.

She had followed Taron’s travels and promotion very closely through social media but also by talking with him as often as they could. The time difference when he arrived in Japan, had woken her during the middle of the night twice, Taron apologising profusely when he realised she had been sleeping but Robyn was happy to talk to him, listening to his excited tones which only increased as he finally got his hands on some fried chicken from Korea when his tour moved there.

He was even more elated when they visited China and the movie had received a wonderous reception from the critics and fans, telling tales of more food he had tired, hilarious games he had taken part in and staying up drinking sake and singing karaoke, which he paid dearly for the next day.

He was just as excited when he got to visit Sydney again and had filled Robyn in on all of the antics himself and Matthew got up to, even Colin joining in with the laughter during the trio’s day of interviews, Robyn smiling as she heard the happiness in his voice. Sure, he sounded a little tired but he was always in good form and full of animated chat, not even noticing at one point that once again he had woken Robyn up with the time difference until half way through their call.

She had watched every interview that had surfaced and laughed at his escapade’s with Colin, the older man rolling his eyes as the younger made a few jokes at his expense and frowned when some interviews focused on her relationship with Taron. During one particular table panel in L.A as a question was asked about them, she saw his eyes change colour so quickly and the pure annoyance he was feeling clearly on his face, she thought he was going to storm off the stage. It was a horrendous and inappropriate question he was asked about their sexual involvement and if the CPR was just an act to cover for their long-term hidden personal relationship. With the way the panel had been cut together, Robyn was sure it was Lyndsey or Taron himself who put a halt to the questions immediately, the person who had asked the question completely over stepping their boundaries, as in the next part of the interview, Taron had taken his jacket off whereas before he was still wearing it. Robyn knew Taron was more than willing to talk about their relationship, even telling him to do it herself and not avoid the question but there was a point where even Taron felt under attack with questions he was asked and when he had spoken to her on the phone once they figured the time difference out, she could hear the frustration and irritation in his voice. She managed to get his mind off it by talking about her impromptu flour fight in work with the children, making him giggle and talk about the one they had had together which completely lifted his mood by the time they ended the call.

Naturally the travelling and constant working showed on his face and once the tour had moved to America, she could also hear the strain in his voice at one point ending the phone call she had with him because his voice sounded overworked and extremely tired and it wasn’t long before that over tiredness appeared on his face and although he tried to hide a yawn behind a cup in one interview for Good Morning America, Robyn easily caught it. It was his traveling around Europe during the end of his second week of promoting the movie that his change in mood and persona really and obviously transformed.

It was easy to know which interviews happened on the same day, Robyn using Taron’s clothes to judge which ones happened one after the other and the day he wore his blue cardigan and white t-shirt was the beginning of his complete personality turn around. It was before they had travelled to France, the tour stopping in Germany for a night. The once happy Taron became withdrawn and quiet, the dark circles under his eyes which were expected, now deep crevices on his cheeks making his whole face look hollow and almost sickly looking. Robyn knew Taron still gave his all even when he was thoroughly exhausted and always managed to keep smiling or make a smart remake, a laugh or a joke but he was giving nothing except robotic like answers, leaving a lot of the talking to Matthew as they sat together and he was constantly drinking from a bottle of water. Nothing new for Taron, the endless talking easily dried out his throat but the fact that he wasn’t talking and still milling the water into him was out of character for him. When Robyn had tried to call him, he didn’t answer the phone but text her back explaining he was completely caught up with interviews and promised to call her back when he could, though he never did, another text coming through apologising saying he fell asleep or got caught up with a photoshoot or question and answer session. Even their contact that day had been through text although it was pretty one sided as Taron had yet to answer her back about their dinner that evening. It had been three days since she had actually spoken to him and heard his voice.

So when Lyndsey had contacted her to tell her that Taron was sickest she had ever seen him, to the point where he was almost keeling over with a cough and not eating or drinking, Robyn didn’t hesitate to get into a taxi to go to him.

“He is cranky as fuck, refusing to listen to me and pretending everything is ok and while he acts like it is for the camera, off camera I can see how he is lying to me. He won’t listen to me, won’t stop to take a break, insists on ploughing through but his whole body is held in this stiff position where it looks like if he even moves an inch, he will crumble. I have seen Taron go through a lot, but I am really worried Robyn. He is pale, sweating, breathing hard and his voice is desperately hoarse.” Lyndsey took a quick breath. “There is only one person in this world who Taron will listen too and that is you.”

Robyn could hear the desperation in Lyndsey’s voice and the not so subtle hint that she really needed her to go and see Taron because he was being stubborn and surly and a typical man. When Robyn told Lyndsey that she would be there within the next forty-five minutes, Lyndsey was silent in shock for a few seconds before she thanked her profusely, telling Robyn she would be waiting outside the hotel for her and to ignore the fans outside.

Robyn had never even factored in the possibility of fans or the media waiting outside the hotel and as the taxi pulled up to the hotel, Robyn had no idea how she was going to pick Taron’s publicist from the crowd or even see her over all the heads in front of her. After paying the taxi driver, Robyn got out of the car and stood back allowing it to leave before she figured out her next move. There were security guards positioned at the doors to the hotel and the black cars out the front were obviously the ones laid out for the cast but as far as Robyn was aware this hotel was actually the same one that Taron was staying in that night, Lyndsey taking away some travelling for him by booking him into the same hotel where the interviews were taking place, even though it might not be the most luxurious one, it gave him more time to rest up after a full day of press.

As Robyn stood behind the crowd, she took a breath and walked around to the left edge of the footpath and gathering of people, hoping to find a gap that she could get through so she could try and get a glimpse of Lyndsey but she was having no luck and as she manoeuvred through the fans and group standing outside the hotel, even though she didn’t speak French, she could understand the points and stares that were coming her way and was starting to feeling slightly uncomfortable at being noticed, really feeling at a loss of not seeing Lyndsey immediately and becoming more desperate to get to Taron. She was normally comforted by his hand when she was in a crowd like this, especially a crowd that was becoming more aware of what she looked like and who she was and the fact that she was standing there in the open made her heart flutter a little with nerves and she could definitely hear her name echo through the all the people standing around her. It was only when she blinked as a flash went off that she realised not only was the assembly of people filled with fans but with some press and media and another blinding flash went off in her direction. That flutter soon became a harder thump and she could feel herself getting uneasy as more people started to recognise her and whispered her name, more photo’s being taken of her as she stood frozen on the footpath.

She jumped a little as her phone rang. She pulled it from her large handbag and was glad to see it was Lyndsey.

“Hey I am outside.”

“Me too. I can’t see you.” Taron’s publicist still sounded distressed; her words spoken fast.

“I am behind the crowd.”

“Come around to the right side of the fans and media and I will get you through.”

Robyn listened to the end call tone and with Lyndsey ending the call so quickly, Robyn was beginning to fret now too. Lyndsey always appeared with a calm and collected persona, her focus on her job but now she sounded completely frazzled. Robyn made herself walk calmly around to the right side of the crowd again and managed to squeeze herself in through the people, ignoring the looks of animosity she was receiving from the young girls and the whispered of French around her, standing right in front of the barrier that blocked everyone from the hotel entrance.

“Robyn! There you are!” She looked up to see Lyndsey practically running towards her with a security guard on her heels.

He got the crowd to move back quickly, speaking rapid French and once there was enough room, opened the barrier to let Robyn in, Lyndsey grabbing her hand and pulling her hard away from the crowd and towards the hotel, without even a hello or hug as she normally greeted Robyn with. Even with her back turned to the throng of media and press, Robyn could see the flare from a camera flash roll over her and hated that her picture was being taken in such an underhand way but as Lyndsey had a very tight grip on her hand she didn’t really have a lot of time to think about it too much, especially when Lyndsey started to speak in hurried words to her.

“I have never seen him like this. Sure, I have seen him run down and ill. Always comes with the promotion but he is just so withdrawn into himself, almost forcing himself to hold in how shit he feels. I couldn’t tell you the last time he ate something and in-between interviews, his whole body is completely consumed by this horrible cough. He won’t listen to me and actually bit my head off this morning when I told him he needed to skip today and rest up but he was having none of it.”

Lyndsey was still pulling on Robyn’s hand as she spoke and Robyn was finding it hard to keep up with the pace, her heels clip clopping loudly as they rushed in through the doors of the hotel, past the reception and towards the lifts.

“Ok Lyndsey, slow down.”

“He is really sick Robyn and I am so worried about him.”

“I know that but you need to take a breath for a second. You are starting to panic.”

“He won’t let me help him. Taron always lets me help him. Always.”

Robyn turned to face the older lady and placed her hands on her shoulders, seeing in her eyes the concern as clear as day. “And you know how stubborn he can be especially when it comes to his work and please take a breath for me.” When Lyndsey gave her an exasperated sigh, Robyn frowned. “Do it.” She said a bit more sternly, glad to feel her shoulders rise under her hands. “One more.” Robyn insisted and when the lift doors opened, Lyndsey had calmed down considerably.

“Sorry.” Said Lyndsey as they stepped into the lift and she pushed four on the keypad.

“You don’t have to apologise.” Robyn moved to stand beside her in the lift. “I know how much you care about him, so naturally when he acts out of character you are going to worry about him.”

“He normally listens to me.”

“What about Matthew?”

“No luck either. Got the same very angry and irate answers back. I am hoping maybe you can get through to him. You don’t know how glad I am that you were able to come, that you are here at the same time as he is. You were ok to leave work?”

“Yeah it is fine. I was finished my presentation so I could leave.”

Once the doors of the lift opened, they were met with another three security guards but as Lyndsey flashed her pass their way, the two were let through and Robyn followed the publicist down the carpeted hallway following the signs for conference room four.

“They are in the middle of an interview but due a break afterwards for some food before they continue again.”

“How long has he been working today?”

“Since six this morning.”

“Six this morning?” Exclaimed Robyn. “It’s nearly five in the afternoon. Please tell me it’s not been constant!”

“Mostly. They had an early morning TV show followed by interviews, then a photoshoot for a magazine and then himself and Matthew have been here since eleven going through the French press one by one. There are others here from other European countries too so it is pretty full on for him.”

“What time is he due to finish?”

“It should be seven but everything is running behind because some of the interviewers needed help with translation and they are taking up extra time.”

“Did he sleep last night?”

“My gut feeling is no but of course he told he me did.”

“Of course he did.”

Lyndsey stopped outside a pair of double doors, another security guard standing outside on watch. “She is with me.” Once they were through the door, Lyndsey gestured to Robyn to keep quiet and they walked to a screen behind which they could stand to watch Taron and Matthew who were sitting in the middle of an interview.

Even though Robyn knew she had to keep a low profile and not be seen, she still side stepped a little so she could see him better and immediately her heart dropped out of her stomach. It was the worst she had ever seen Taron look and that was including the first time she met him. He looked thoroughly exhausted, his face completely miserable even though he was trying to hide it with the fakest smile she had ever seen on his lips and the laugh he gave was so forced, it made Robyn cringe. She had never heard him laugh like that before and as he lifted the bottle from between his legs to take a sip of water it was either to avoid answering the question that was asked or as Lyndsey had said, to hold in the cough that was desperate to leave his body and his shoulders shook with the struggle of keeping the cough in. She could also see how Lyndsay had explained how he was holding himself too and Taron sat so straight in the chair, it looked so unnatural and uncomfortable. After holding the bottle to his lips but obviously not drinking, Taron eventually took his turn to answer the question, his voice quiet and Robyn could hear the scratchiness with which he spoke and how gravelly he sounded.

“See what I mean?” Lyndsey whispered to her. “Not himself at all.”

Robyn nodded. “But is doing a very good job of trying not to show how shit he actually feels.” Her eyes were glued to Taron. She knew the tour was going to be tiring on him but she couldn’t get over how wretched he looked, incredible black rings under his eyes, eyes which normally had a little sparkle, were dull and lifeless and she could see the effort it took him to answer an easy question, the short breathes he took to counter the cough he was covering. His cheeks were not the rosy red she loved to see when he was slightly embarrassed but more red raw from a high temperature which she was sure he had as along with his red face, there was a clear and obvious sheen of perspiration of his skin. Robyn wasn’t surprised to see the heat on his skin as he was dressed in a leather jacket, jumper and she could also see the collar of a shirt peeking through.

“How long until they are finished?” Robyn turned to Lyndsey.

“About another five minutes or so.”

“Anyway I can interrupt it and stop it?”

Lyndsey smiled sadly. “Wish you could and would love to let you but it’s best we let them finish. He is already going to be mad at me for ringing you to come over.”

“Let him be mad. I can handle him.”

“And that is why I knew I could call you. He needs you Robyn. He will always need you.”

Robyn didn’t answer but turned back to Taron and just wanted to walk over and hug him tightly against her until he gave in and accepted that he was quite obviously ill, just as Robyn predicted he was going to get back on St Patrick’s Day and it hurt her so much that he felt he had to hide how crappy he felt and put up a front for work, to keep working and not even attempt to take a break, to give himself a break, only working himself past the point of exhaustion and pure illness putting his body completely to test.

As Taron sat in the chair half listening to the questions he was being asked by an interviewer from somewhere in Europe, he couldn’t quite remember where, he shivered violently. He had been feeling cold all morning and even after he had pulled on his jacket, he was still frozen. He had been desperate for a coffee to try and not only wake himself up but warm his body up but he couldn’t stomach it or even attempt to swallow it. His throat felt like it was covered in razor blades and every swallow was painful. He had been feeling a bit rough since Wednesday and he woke up with a headache and scratchy throat and although he had been eating paracetamol to try and lift his cold, it hadn’t been helping and now he felt ten times worse, his whole body filled with aches and pains and what was making everything hurt even more was the horrible chesty cough he had been cursed with. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before, up most of the time coughing uncontrollably and every time he lay his head down on the pillow to try and sleep, his whole chest seized up once more and he had to physically get out of the bed and stand up, hoping it would help ease his cough but it never did and at one point he was holding onto the desk in the room as he tried to catch his breath, his whole body convulsing painfully. In the end he had to sit up in the bed and sit up straight and it was uncomfortable for sleeping. During the day he had tried his best to hide the cough, swallowing it down or making an excuse to go to the bathroom where he hid in the cubicle until his fit of coughing was done but it left a sting in his ribs and any deep breathe only brought the cough on so he did his best to avoid any movement that would rustle his upper body, keeping his posture held tight and firm.

He knew he had been a rotten mood since yesterday and felt awful for taking his sulkily temperament out on Lyndsey but the tour was so important to him even more so because the filming had to be halted due to what had happened to him in Florida in the first place and he wasn’t going to miss any interviews because of a small cold. Lyndsey had been on his case since that morning about taking the day off and staying in bed but he couldn’t do that. He had too many responsibilities to follow through with and after he had taken more pain killers, which scraped and burned his throat horribly, he put on a brave face and used his best acting skills to hide how rotten he was truly feeling.

He had such an amazing time on his promotional tour before he started to feel sick and had enjoyed every moment, even the travelling which would normally bring him down when he was over tired and severely jet-lagged didn’t bother him as before. He was putting it down to the fact that every day, even if he got the time difference wrong, he spoke to Robyn and filled her in on the excitement of the day or his annoyance at the nerve of some of the interviewers asking certain questions about their relationship, really overstepping their privacy boundaries. He had laughed and joked and been as proud as punch promoting his new movie, both himself and Matthew bouncing off each other as they sat on early morning TV shows and Q&A sessions and panels and the whole tour had been absolutely perfect.

That was until he started to feel absolutely shit and the more he sat on the chair under the heat of the lights which normally made him sweat, he felt bitterly cold and found it more difficult to concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing as he worked on repressing the need to cough.

“What would you do Taron?”

He had been focused on trying to rub some heat into his frozen hands, he missed the question asked to him and looked up.

“Sorry?”

“If you were faced with the same situation liked Eggsy where he had to shoot his dog? Do you think you could do it?”

While Taron’s mind cursed the question, he forced himself to smile and try to be good natured with his answer. “Definitely not but if it was a life or death situation or to save a family member or a friend, then I guess I would.”

“Even Robyn’s?”

“Sorry?” Taron couldn’t help the edge to his voice, his pounding head and pain behind his eyes not helping him even try to act professional as her name was mentioned.

“If Robyn’s life was in danger, would you shoot the dog.”

“What kind of a stupid fucking question is that?” He spat angrily, taking both Matthew and the interviewer by surprise. “What do you think? She saved my life but I would give up hers for a dogs? Fucking bollocks.”

“And that is time on the interview.” Lyndsey walked over to stand in front of Taron. As soon as she heard the complete change in Taron’s voice, she knew he had had enough of the interview and needed to see a friendly face in the form of Robyn, Lyndsey praying the Irish woman could help him see sense. “You did get the little memo beforehand about the questions about Robyn.” She said to the interviewer. “And your time is actually up. Thank you very much.” Lyndsey turned to look at Taron and he was scowling at her. “Get that look from your face Taron. I know you feel like shit but there is no need for the attitude you are giving me.”

“I am fine.” Taron retorted, his blocked nose making it hard for him to fully pronounce the word ‘fine’. “And if they are going to talk about Robyn like that, I am going to react.”

“First off Taron, you are not fine and secondly you cannot get up on your high horse and go off on one whenever her name is mentioned. You know this.”

“Fuck off Lyndsey. I am fine. Just need some air from all of this shit.”

“Taron!” Robyn had been listening behind the screen and nodded to Lyndsey when she walked away to quickly to put an end to the interview. Inside her heart had soared to hear him talk so protectively about her even though she knew she probably should have been mad at him for his reaction and how he responded to the question but when she heard his angry words to Lyndsey, she wouldn’t have him treat his publicist in such a way and Robyn being Robyn couldn’t help herself and had to interfere, marching around the screen and over to where he was sitting, standing right in front of him. She immediately saw the surprise look in his tired and blood shot eyes, his features changing quicker than a finger click from infuriated to disbelief. “You do not talk to Lyndsey like that.”

Everyone in the room froze, when the young woman walked with purpose right onto the make-shift interview set up and stood in front of the lead actor with her hands on her hips, a definite scowl on her face and not only because of her sudden appearance but because they knew who she was.

“Robyn!” She could hear the pain it took him to exclaim her name and how gruff it sounded, his voice completely losing its tone before he had finished speaking.

Taron’s whole face switched from anger to surprise to relief as Robyn stood in front of him, dressed in another stunning fitted pants suit and he suddenly forgot what he was angry for but seeing the look of disappointment on her face, his head hung to his chest, remembering how he had spoken to Lyndsey feeling completely ashamed with himself. As he let his body flop a little back in the chair, he wasn’t holding himself as he had been and the strength at which he had been using to cover the cough left him and his whole body crumbled forward with fatigue as he was hit with a severe and brutal fit of a burning cough from his chest and as he over balanced on his chair, finally fully giving into how he truly felt, he expected to hit the floor but instead a strong pair of arms caught his left arm while a very familiar pair went to his shoulders to help keep him upright.

Robyn knew her sudden presence had the people in the conference room talking to each other in quiet French but when she dropped to her knees to catch Taron before he fell forward off the chair, she had definitely heard the gasp from those around her, glad Matthew had also reacted quickly grabbing Taron’s left arm to keep him upright too.

“I’m sorry.” Taron spluttered through painful spasms of coughing. “Lyndsey I am so sorry.”

“Shhh don’t talk.” Robyn gave his shoulders a slight rub, feeling them violently shake under her hands as he coughed. She thanked Matthew as he helped to make sure Taron was sitting by himself and she knelt up, in-between Taron’s legs putting her right hand straight onto his forehead and immediately became more concerned than she already was. As she predicted he had a temperature and as she moved her hand around to the back of his neck, Taron’s skin was on fire with an obvious fever and not only was his skin over heated, it was definitely covered in a layer of perspiration and Robyn wasn’t surprised as he was dressed in more layers of clothes than she had ever seen him wear.

“Robyn?” Lyndsey came to hunch down beside her, so glad that Taron already seemed to be admitting defeat to how he was feeling, immediately letting Robyn in to help him but she saw the look of worry increase on her face.

“I need help to get this jacket off him.” She answered moving her hand from his neck and as she went to slide the leather off his shoulders, Taron’s whole body was stricken with another horrible wave of coughing and within seconds, his face had turned red and Robyn could see the pain in his shattered facial features. “Shh Taron shh.” Instead of trying to take his jacket off, Robyn wrapped her arms around his body and pulled him to her, taking all of his weight as he slumped against her, his arms by his side, as she gently rubbed his back round and round in soothing circles. “Shh Taron.”

Matthew had stood up and was standing behind Robyn, ready to catch her in-case she lost her balance as she held Taron but she looked extremely steady on her knees, so he moved to stand beside Lyndsey.

“She came.” He said to the woman who stood with her eyes glued to Taron and Robyn. Lyndsey had told Matthew in-between their interviews that she as going to call Robyn and although he couldn’t say he was surprised to see her, the woman having flown to New York for Taron, he was definitely relieved. He had watched Taron suffer in silence over the last three days and though had tried to talk to the younger man and help him, he was being his usual stubborn self and refusing to listen. Thankfully there was one person, apart from his mother, who Taron listened too and she was currently holding him tight in her arms, whispering to him.

“Of course she did.” Lyndsey confirmed. “She would do anything for him and I knew as soon as he saw her, he would do this.” Lyndsey didn’t really know what to do as she looked at the two in front of her, if she should go and help Robyn but with the two locked in a tight embrace, more so Robyn holding Taron, she didn’t want to move them until Robyn was ready to.

They both watched as Taron finally let go of everything he had been holding in and he sounded terrible, even worse than Lyndsey had imagined. She had never known Taron to be so secretive about his health before, always being open with her if he had a headache or needed an extra shot of expresso to keep him awake because he had slept badly the night before but for some reason he felt the need to keep it to himself how sick he was really was and as she watched Robyn whisper to him, Lyndsey was so thankful for the Irish women who held Taron’s heart in her hands.

Taron felt like he was dreaming and found it so hard to believe that his wonderful Robyn was in front of him. He literally collapsed into her arms and had nothing but trust for her to catch him and she did and he clung to Robyn, his head on her shoulder and he couldn’t even bury his face in his usual comforting spot on her neck as he was consumed by the pain in his chest and ribs from coughing and he was so caught up in how dizzy and poorly he felt that he hadn’t even properly processed how she was in front of him holding him but there she was, rubbing his back with one hand, her other at the base of his neck.

Robyn could feel her legs shaking as she took all of Taron’s weight but she didn’t dare let him go or ask him to move. As he leant against her she could feel how the horrendous cough travelled through his whole body and not only feel it but hear it too and the rattle in his chest was worrying to her, especially at how long it took for the current bout of coughing to end. Once he had caught his breath, she felt him almost throw his face into her neck and she could feel the laboured gasps for air he made against her skin. She moved her right hand into his hair and cupped the back of his head. “Don’t take deep breathes Taron. Just little shallower ones. Too deep and you will cough all over again.”

Taron always trusted Robyn and followed her advice, concentrated on doing the opposite of what he was used too when he was feeling panicky or his anxiety rise and the quick little intakes of air helped him a lot. As he closed his eyes and breathed Robyn in, he felt her hands move from the outside of his jacket and right under his clothes, her hands on the bare skin of his lower back above the waistband of his jeans and belt and the cold of her hands felt so wonderful on his skin and he moaned when she took them away.

“I need to get you out of this coat.” Robyn pushed her hands up and under his clothes as far as she could and once on his bare skin was met with a little dribble of sweat that dripped down his spine and his body was over heated and temperature ridden as it fought whatever bacterial virus it had picked up.

“I am freezing.” He whispered hoarsely into her neck.

“You have a temperature Taron so while you feel cold, your body is on fire. I need to get some of these layers off.”

Robyn looked to Lyndsey who was standing to her left and nodded with her head, glad that Lyndsey understood that she needed some help. Together, with Matthew helping too, they managed to slide Taron’s jacket down his shoulders and off his body, Robyn feeling a shiver run through him as he still leant against her.

“And jumper. Hun, I am going to have to get you to sit back on the chair.”

Taron moaned in protest at being moved but with no energy at the moment, he couldn’t object as he felt his body being gently moved back in the seat. He looked up to see Lyndsey beside him and he reached over to grab her hand. “I am sorry.” He croaked.

“You can make it up to me when you are not a pathetic sweaty mess and I can say I told you so.” Lyndsey gave his hand a squeeze. “You are bloody lucky to have Robyn in your life and I am glad you listen to her. You are never to let yourself feel this ill again Taron, do you hear me? This could have been sorted three days ago if you had of just been honest with me. You are so much more important to me rather than the bloody promotion and your health comes first before anything.”

With a pitiful nod, Taron brought his hands to cover his mouth as he took another fit of coughing and as his cheeks turned red once more, Robyn could feel his friends starting to panic. Without a doubt, Taron was very ill but he didn’t need to see those around him with worried faces.

“Lyndsey does he have a spare t-shirt or shirt?” Robyn was glad to see her nod. “Can you get it for me please.” Once Lyndsey had walked back behind the screen, she turned to Matthew. “Any cold water around?”

“Cold bottles ok?”

“Perfect.”

Once Robyn was sure Lyndsey and Matthew were distracted for a few minutes, she turned her attention back to Taron who was sitting slightly hunched forward with his eyes squinted closed. Now that he was finally given a break from coughing, she could hear once more how laboured his breathing was and the raspy rattle that was coming from his chest.

“You are a disaster,” She said to him, smiling slightly as he managed the tiniest of nods. “Do you know how mad I am at you?” He nodded again. “Is this why you haven’t actually called me since Thursday?” Another miserable nod came her way. Robyn shook her head. “Can I take this jumper off now?” Taking his next nod as permission, Robyn reached forward and holding the bottom of his jumper started to pull it up his body. “Arms up.” She instructed him, Taron listening to her and lifted his arms up above his head, giving Robyn the space she needed to get the jumper off him. Throwing it to the side, she couldn’t help the sigh that came from her lips. “And the shirt too.” He wore a light blue shirt under his jumper and Robyn deftly opened the buttons and pulled it down his arms and threw it to the side with the rest of his clothes. “Jesus Christ Taron. I am fit to kill you.” Robyn’s eyes glanced over his white t-shirt, sighing at the wet patches from where he had been sweating in his layers. She brought her hands to his face and once her hands touched his cheeks, he immediately leaned into them. “I am glad your mother can’t see you like this.”

Taron groaned, cringing as another cough filled his lungs, his throat on fire, his head feeling like it was going to burst. He could feel his body being guided into Robyn’s again and he couldn’t help but lean against her once more, relishing in the coolness of her neck against his right warm cheek but he shivered, feeling cold in the large conference room. He could feel Robyn’s hands running up and down his back and he felt too unwell to even care that the back of his t-shirt was soaked with perspiration or to even feel embarrassed when her fingers creeped under his top and ran in such delicate circles down his spine. He was exhausted in every possible way and his body was making it very clear that he had taken hiding how ill he was too far.

“Here Robyn.”

Matthew walked back over with two cold bottles of water.

“Thanks so much. You can just leave them on the ground beside me.”

“Here is a clean shirt for him too.” Lyndsey knelt beside Robyn with a fresh crisp black shirt in her hands. “What can I do for you.”

“I would really like to try and cool him down a bit. He is running a desperately high temperature.”

Lyndsey looked to her. “You can tell that just by holding him?”

Robyn smiled a little. “Kinda but if you feel his forehead, the back of his neck and then feel your own you will feel the difference immediately.” When Lyndsey hesitated, Robyn encouraged her by taking her hand and guiding it to the back of Taron’s neck, both Taron and Lyndsey reacting to the difference in temperature that they felt. “Now feel the back of my neck.” Robyn bent her head forwards a little and with her hair twisted up in a plait, Lyndsey had easy access to her skin.

“Jesus Taron is so hot.”

“I knew you always had a thing for me.”

It was a laughter that broke up some of the tense atmosphere around them but unfortunately the laughter turned silent as Taron was consumed by another round of coughing, moving completely away from Robyn and back into the chair as he brought one hand to his ribs and one to his mouth. He could feel Robyn’s hands on his knees which he was very thankful for.

“Robyn what can we do for you?” Asked Matthew.

“He really needs a doctor.” Robyn summarised quickly.

“No.” Taron spoke through a rough cough.

“Taron…” Warned Robyn.

“No doctor. I will be ok. Just need to…” He never got to finish his sentence and bent over with his head in his hands as a sharp pain pricked him behind his eyes and once again, he was catching his breath, rasping sounds coming from his chest. “No.” He said as firmly as he could manage. “I just need to sleep it off.”

The three stared at him before Lyndsey and Matthew turned to Robyn. In her heart, she knew he needed to see a doctor, the intensity of the cough she was sure would only be helped with an antibiotic but if Taron was already refusing to even talk about going to see a doctor, Robyn wasn’t going to waste time to convince him, Taron needing to accept that fact for himself.

“Right ok then well let’s get this t-shirt off.” Robyn had lifted her hands to the hem of his top but stalled and looked around the room to the crowd who had gathered around them. She hadn’t really noticed them before but now as she went to physically strip Taron, she could feel every pair of eyes staring at them. “Any chance we can have the room to ourselves for ten or fifteen minutes? Just to make a start on cooling him down? He doesn’t need a crowd around him.”

Lyndsey got to her feet and walked straight over to the event managers to have a quick word, while Matthew knelt beside Robyn, as Taron sat back in the chair again, taking some shallow breathes with his eyes closed.

“Do you have some magic or something? Maybe some fairy dust from the leprechauns? Can I borrow some for when we film the new movie?”

Robyn looked to him. “Magic leprechaun dust?” She questioned, reaching forward to hold Taron’s hands in hers. “What on earth are you on about?”

“You have this way about you when it comes to Taron, I am wondering if you give him something when he goes to visit you.”

“I do have a fairy fort in my back garden so I have access to fairy dust and magic mushrooms whenever I want. I slip some into the cookies I bake for Taron when he comes to see me.”

Robyn grinned when she saw confusion cross Matthew’s face and feeling a squeeze on her hands, turned to look at Taron who had a small smile on his too.

“Really?”

“Sure Matthew.” Robyn shook her head. “Fairy dust in the cookies,” She turned back to Taron as he cleared his throat a few times, watching as his eyes creased at the side. “Can you take a drink for me?” She asked him, frowning as he shook his head a little. “If you are going to refuse to drink anything for me, this is not going to work and I will be calling for an ambulance, never mind a doctor.”

Taron didn’t even need to look at Robyn to know how serious she was about calling the ambulance. “My throat is so sore.” He winced.

Robyn let go of his hands and placing her thumbs on his jaw, moved her fingers to his neck, feeling the swollen glands of an obvious sore throat. “Of course it is and yet you still won’t go and see a doctor.” Robyn picked up one of the bottles of water Matthew had brought her. “Small sips. You don’t take any water in; you end up in hospital.”

Reluctantly, Taron took the bottle from her which she had opened for him and bringing it to his lips, took the smallest of sips, his throat painfully dry.

“Is there anything other than water around?” Robyn asked, knowing the water probably tasted horrible to Taron at the moment. “Anything like a Lucozade?”

“I think they have something like that, hold on.”

While Matthew stood up and walked over to the refreshment table, Robyn took the bottle of water from Taron, much to his delight and as she screwed the lid back on, Lyndsey walked over.

“We have twenty minutes to ourselves. They are asking when the interviews are going to continue.” She spat shaking her head. “Absolute nerve of them.”

“And you did tell them they aren’t right?”

“I told them as politely as I could that these interviews would not be going ahead with Taron, today or tomorrow.”

“What?” Croaked Taron. “Lyndsey no. I have to do them. I need to promote the movie. Especially after the rush to get it finished on time.” The more Taron spoke, the more awful he sounded and Robyn could hear the ache in his voice. “I will change my shirt and continue on.”

Robyn knelt back on her heels, staring at him. “Are you actually serious?” She questioned him.

“What?” He asked, looking to her, wide troubled eyes looking back at him.

The extreme tiredness was so evident on his face and his scowl made it look so much worse. “You want to sit through another five hours of interviews when you feel like complete and utter shit, can barely talk, are crippled with a horrendous cough and have a banging headache?”

“The movie needs to be promoted.” He insisted, trying to hold in another cough that wrecked his chest.

“Taron you’re about this close to collapsing on the floor from exhaustion and how ill you are.”

“I have managed so far today without anybody’s help. I can keep going.” He insisted.

“I give up.” Robyn stood up.

“Robyn?” Taron asked, his voice breaking as he said her name.

“You know I love you and will always support you, but not this. I can’t watch you sit here hunched over in agony, barely able to drink anything or talk. You are sick Taron and incredibly sick with a stupidly high temperature that could easily become very serious but if you want to put your body through more interviews and answering questions by all means go ahead and do it, but I won’t stand or sit here and watch you do it.” With a quick turn, Robyn walked away from him and headed back towards the door she came through with Lyndsey.

“Robyn!” Taron got to his feet and though he was very shaky as he stood, walked after her as she strolled away from him, pushing past Matthew and Lyndsey who tried to stop him. “Please don’t go. Not again.” He took to a quick jog, every movement hurting him. He caught up with her and grabbed her hand. “You can’t leave me, not like this.” He coughed.

Robyn shook his hand away. “When you are finished the interviews, call me and I will come back.” Robyn picked up her bag from where she had left it on the floor. “I am going to sit downstairs in the bar until you are done.”

“You are serious about leaving me again.” Taron rasped.

“You seriously want to sit through another five hours of this feeling like you do?” Robyn turned sharply to him and gestured to the set up for the interview. He didn’t answer her, his eyes going to the floor. “I know how much this movie means to you and I understand how much pressure you felt for this promotion, how important it was for you to get it perfect. The filming was halted because of Florida but something happened that you had no control over and yet you feel so guilty over that and getting through these three weeks and doing it thoroughly and properly is everything to you at the moment.” Robyn took his hands. “I understand it Taron but it doesn’t mean that I can watch you do it, not when you are this sick and ill and I care about you way too much to watch you suffer through it. Another five hours of this and I guarantee that you will be in a hospital bed, on an IV line. You know where I will be if you change your mind.”

Robyn let go of his hands and turned on her heels away from him. It was a drastic and very unfair move to make on him but her reaction needed to be severe for Taron to see that she was deadly serious about walking away from him when he needed her. She had her hand on the door ready to push it open when he called for her.

“Robyn please.”

It was the hopeless and grave voice with the deep broken tone she had expected to hear and she quickly turned around to face him and dropped her bag onto the floor, her arms out to catch him as he stepped over to her and crippled over from tiredness. This time Robyn wasn’t able to keep herself and Taron standing and she didn’t know how she managed but eased the two of them to the floor, Taron’s face buried under her chin as they sat in a ball together on the floor, Taron’s hands gripping her arm tight.

“Don’t leave me.” He cried unhappily as he dug his face into her shoulder.

“I am not going anywhere.” She assured him as she stroked his left cheek. “Except to get you to bed.”

It was a tight cuddle, one that Taron needed desperately and as his body was crippled with another cough, Robyn laid her cheek on his head, feeling Matthew and Lyndsey stand close by waiting and watching for what was going to happen next. Robyn continued to soothe Taron with hushed words and feather light caresses on his cheek as he held her tightly. It was an awkward and uncomfortable position for both as Robyn knelt and Taron was half sitting and half kneeling against her and once Taron caught his breath, Robyn nodded to his director and publicist and the three got the exhausted Welshman to his feet and back onto the chair.

“Reverse phycology at its best.” Robyn explained to his publicist and director as they questioned her moves and words. “Works like a charm.” She pulled at the hem of his t-shirt and as Taron lifted his arms above his head, finally got the sweat ridden piece of cotton off him.

“Always were good at it.” Taron whispered as he shivered, now in just his jeans, goosebumps covering his upper body. “I am sorry and you are right. I need to go to bed.”

“And you had better remember that and no need to say sorry again. Let me cool you down a bit first before we move you to your room.” Robyn slipped off her own suit jacket and placed it on the ground beside her. She picked up one of the cold bottles of water and poured it over his white t-shirt, squeezing the excess water out so it dribbled onto her jacket and not all over the floor. Once she was satisfied with her home-made cold compress, she knelt up between Taron’s legs. “This is going to be cold Taron but it will immediately help to get this temperature down.”

“You mean how hot I am?” He asked hoarsely.

Robyn grinned at his attempt to smile. “We don’t need to fix that, just your body temperature.” She placed her left hand on his right cheek and placed the folded t-shirt on his forehead, seeing Taron close his eyes at the initial touch, feeling the shiver that ran through him. She moved the t-shirt down to his right cheek and then around to the back of his neck, Taron’s chin moving to his chest to give Robyn more space to cool him down. “You ok?”

“Cold.” He answered.

“Not hot anymore?” Robyn joked.

Taron’s slight laugh turned into a cough and his hands went to his chest and ribs. “Don’t make me laugh. It aches.” He closed his eyes as Robyn moved his wet t-shirt down his back and up to his neck once more before she took the t-shirt way from him. He then lifted his head and looked at her, Robyn’s focus completely on wetting his top again. She was wearing a light blue blouse with a V-neck and if he didn’t feel so rough and rotten, he knew he would be feeling something other than tired and ill. As she knelt in between his legs, once again looking after him, he couldn’t quite believe that she was there for him when he needed her the most and hated her way of making him see that he couldn’t carry on with the interviews and desperately needed to lay down and rest but she did it so well and he knew it was her way of showing she cared. His eyes still did a quite roam over her and his heart jumped as it always did, but he moment of joy was soon overshadowed by his cough and he brought both his hands to mouth. He felt Robyn’s wet hands on his shoulders and as always, he felt comforted by her touch.

“Just let me go over you once more and then we can get you settled in your room.”

Taron wished he had the energy to return a smart comment to her and his chin went back to his chest as she placed the wet t-shirt on the back of his neck again.

“Robyn what do you need?” Asked Lyndsey. Herself and Matthew had been keeping quiet, just watching Robyn look after their friend. Of course, they had heard the stories from Taron about Robyn, about her actions in Florida but to see it first hand, both gave each other a knowing look. There was definitely more than friendship between the two. Lyndsey walked over and crouched beside the Irish woman. “I can make a run to a pharmacy for you.”

“Please.” Robyn gently pushed on Taron’s shoulders, getting him to sit back against the chair and moved the cold compress to his forehead. “Paracetamol and cough bottle for a chesty dry cough and lots of tissues and where the nearest doctor is.”

“No doctors.” Taron murmured.

“And where the nearest doctor is and if they do call outs on the weekend.”

“No doctors.” Taron repeated though he knew he was being ignored as his publicist and best friend spoke in hushed whispers. Through tired eyes, he saw Lyndsey walk away from them.

“I got that drink for you too Robyn.” Matthew now crouched beside her.

“Perfect.” Robyn thanked him. “Not that he is going to drink it.”

Taking the wet t-shirt from his head, Robyn threw it to the side and picked up the black shirt Lyndsey had left on Matthew’s chair for him. She draped it over his shoulders and helped Taron to get his arms in. Once the material was fixed on his frame, she buttoned it for him.

“Best we just get him to his room.” Robyn said to Matthew. “What floor is he on?”

“Seventh.”

Robyn groaned. “Of course, he would be.” She looked at Taron as he sat with his eyes closed, taking short breathes through his open lips. “And how many people would we meet along the way?” She asked herself. “You have a hat?”

Taron shook his head before he started to cough again, the throbbing behind his eyes increasing with each painful cough.

“Ok shh Taron.” Robyn placed her hands on his cheeks, feeling the heat on his skin and left them there until he had stopped coughing. “You poor chicken.” She said quietly. “Really putting yourself through hell.” She turned to look at his director. “Would you help me get him back to his room?”

“Of course.”

Robyn left Taron to grab her handbag and she stuffed her suit jacket and Taron’s clothes into it, actually slipping his leather jacket on herself. “Maybe this is something else I can add to my wardrobe.” She joked but when once again Taron didn’t take to laugh, she knew he was definitely feeling very unwell. She dropped in the bottle of Lucozade type sports drink that Matthew had given her into her bag too, needing something other than water for Taron to drink. “Anything else belonging to you around here?” She asked Taron, who was just sitting in the chair sad and completely deflated.

“No my phone is in my pocket.”

“Ok so let’s go then.”

Robyn looked to Matthew and they nodded to each other and taking an arm each, got Taron to his feet, who was very glad to have the support either side of him, even happier when Robyn slipped her arm around his waist, her grip on him tight and firm. He felt himself leaning more into her than Matthew and once again was so thankful for her in more ways that he could describe.

@fuseburner​ @hitmeonmytspot​ @primaba11erina​ @turkish276​

[kmomof4]

Of Darkness, Vampires and Soulmates Ch. 3 The Family Desmoulins

We’re back y'all! Thank you all so much!! Your response to this fic has brought me such joy! I know we’ve had a lot of pain so far, and we still have a lot of story left to tell, so thank you all for coming on this journey with me and for the trust you’ve gifted me with! I hope that you’ll agree that it was worth it when we reach the end!! I hope that you continue to enjoy!!

All the love and hugs in the world to @profdanglaisstuff​ for her outstanding beta services, @hollyethecurious​ for her encouragement and willingness to listen to me spitball, brainstorm and whine whine and whine some more, the CSSNS and CSMM discords for their encouragement and help with a title, and finally to @spartanguard​ for her INCREDIBLE and PERFECT art!!! I could iterally stare at all of it for HOURS!!!!

Chapter Summary: Over a century has passed and Killian makes his way to Pre-Revolutionary France.

Rating: M (Violence and smut)

Words: 4.4K of 41K total

Tags: Vampires, Soulmates, Reincarnation, Prophecy, Black Death, French Revolution, Magic, True Loves Kiss

Prologue | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ao3 chapter link | Ao3 fic link

Tag list: @hollyethecurious​ @winterbaby89​ @snowbellewells​ @stahlop​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @jennjenn615​ @kingofmyheart14​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @branlovestowrite​ @thisonesatellite​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @flslp87​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @let-it-raines​ @shireness-says​ @kymbersmith-90​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @bethacaciakay​ @searchingwardrobes​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @teamhook​ @aprilqueen84​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @superchocovian​ @artistic-writer​ @donteattheappleshook​ @doodlelolly0910​ @seriouslyhooked​ @tiganasummertree​ @lfh1226-linda​ @nikkiemms​ @xsajx​ @klynn-stormz​

Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

Under the cut unless Tumblr ate it.

A/N: While the chateau is made up, the description is based off of the Chateau de Montsoreau in the Loire Valley of France.

1786 France

Killian was finally making his way toward Paris after an inexplicable longing to come to the city had overtaken him while at sea ten years before. In his day, Paris had been one of the most prominent cities in all of Europe, but due to the religious wars between Catholics and Protestants, he and Liam had never been to the city. Why this compulsion had come upon him so unexpectedly, he had no idea. However, other priorities had prevented him from acting on that desire for many years. As the years passed, and the  preoccupation wouldn’t leave him, he eventually found himself docking in Marseille and turning his face toward Paris. He was about a day’s ride outside the city, when he stopped at a small village in the Loire valley for the night. Once he settled down in his bed, memories he hadn’t thought of in years poured over him.

After discovering his Swan’s death, he stayed with David, doing what he could to help and support his friend in their mutual loss. By the fall, David wanted to leave London to see how the rest of his family had fared during the outbreak. Returning to the family farm, David discovered that his father had passed not long after he and Mary Margaret had left, and that his siblings had not survived the dreaded disease. As much as losing Mary Margaret and Emma had affected him, with the knowledge that the only family he had left in this world were a few nieces and nephews that he had never known and their families, Killian was not at all surprised when he finally came down with and succumbed to the pestilence upon returning to London. With the blood tears in his eyes, Killian laid his friend to rest beside his beloved Mary Margaret, Emma, and Granny. Saying a quiet prayer over the family that he had come to think of as his own, Killian turned away and left London, never to return. Arriving back on the continent, he had wandered aimlessly for a few years, before the call of the sea again drew him back to his beloved Jolly Roger and life on the open water.

Why these memories crashed over him now, Killian couldn’t tell. He fell into dreams with the blood tears in his eyes.

~*~*~

After staying in the village for two weeks waiting on a new wardrobe, Killian awoke to bright sunlight pouring into his room. Rising from his bed, he made his way over to the wash basin near the door and splashed the cool water on his face. After dressing, he came down the stairs of the inn and greeted the proprietor.

“Good morning,” he said, seating himself at a table. A bar wench laid the standard breakfast, consisting of bol de cafe, a large cup of coffee with milk, and pain au lait, a rich breakfast bread, before him and hurried away. He dove into the hearty meal as he planned out his day. Upon arriving in the village, he decided that before heading into the city, it’d be prudent to obtain some new clothes. He may not be a prince anymore, but he thought it’d probably be better to be taken for a member of the nobility rather than a rogue and a scoundrel that his pirate attire attested to. Gold, for a pirate captain, wasn’t a problem, so he had ordered a completely new wardrobe. And today was the day it would be ready. He meandered down the center of the village, simply enjoying the cool spring morning and the sunshine. He could just see beyond the simple buildings in the town to the surrounding green landscape of the valley. The beauty was enough to take his breath away.

As he arrived at the tailor’s, a petite noblewoman, dressed in a gown of burgundy silk that brought out the hints of auburn the sunlight gave her dark hair, was just stepping down from her carriage. He held the door open for her as her eyes took in his appearance.

After a brief nod, she swept past him through the door. He followed her in to see her speaking animatedly to the tailor’s apprentice.

“No, young man,” the condescension dripping from the woman’s lips raised Killian’s ire. There wasn’t much in this world that made him angrier than people thinking themselves above others. “I have no objection to you showing me new fabrics and so on, but I must insist on your master being the one to take my measurements and personally make my dress. This is for a party at Versailles.” Killian may have once been a prince, but from his earliest days, his father had taught him the value of working among and serving the people of their kingdom. That everyone, regardless of station, was made in the image of God and was deserving of honor and respect. The difference between the attitude of the royal family in his kingdom and the nobility of France astounded him.

“Yes, Vicomtesse,” the man acquiesced. “But Monsieur Marco will be occupied for the next hour or so, outfitting the Prince d’Épinoy,” he gestured at Killian, “in the wardrobe that he has prepared.” The woman turned toward him with a more appraising eye this time than what she had bestowed on him earlier.

“Oh, don’t mind me, August,” Killian began, swallowing his anger, “I’m in no hurry. I can wait while Monsieur Marco takes Vicomtesse…” he trailed away, holding his hand out in invitation toward the woman.

“Vicomtesse Desmoulins,” the woman answered, placing her gloved hand into his. He raised it to his lips and brushed them along her knuckles.

“While Monsieur Marco takes Vicomtesse Desmoulins’ measurements,” he repeated.

The woman’s high cheekbones flushed pink with his declaration, and she dropped her eyes. “Prince?” she asked, a little breathlessly.

“Aye,” he replied, “At your service, Madame.”

“Thank you so much for your concession, Monseigneur,” she cooed before turning back toward August. “Well?” she questioned the young man again, “Where is Monsieur Marco? I insist on seeing him at once! I’m on a bit of a schedule.”

“R-R-Right away, Vicomtesse,” he stammered, turning toward the back of the shop. Killian stood stoically, his internal displeasure at the Vicomtesse’s attitude well hidden. As soon as August had departed behind the curtain, she turned toward him again. This time with an appraising glint in her eye that Killian didn’t appreciate one bit.

“So what brings you to our fair village, Monseigneur,” she purred, moving closer to him. Killian prided himself on being a good judge of character, even before his meeting Rumplestilskin. And now, living as long as he had, that skill had only been honed further. There was no doubt in his mind that the woman before him was a siren, beautiful to look at, and yet deadly if you get too close. Not wholly unlike himself.

“I’m on my way to Paris, Vicomtesse,” he answered her, with a small bow of his head, holding his ground. “I’ve never visited and I thought it was time to change that.”

“Oh, yes, Paris,” she exclaimed dreamily,  “Then I must insist on you coming and spending some time at our Chateau Havre-de-brume before joining us at Versailles. I’m sure that I could secure you a place at court.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Killian tried to protest.

She waved away his objection. “Oh, nonsense,” she pooh-poohed. “It’s the least I can do after you so graciously allowed me to see Monsieur Marco first about my measurements. We leave for Versailles in a week’s time and you can join us at the Chateau until then, then travel with us to court.” It was clear that the woman was accustomed to getting what she wanted, and Killian was finding it difficult to contain his amusement at her assumptions. If only she knew exactly WHAT she was inviting into her home, he chuckled under his breath. “We will expect you this afternoon at 4 for tea, Monseigneur. Dinner will be served at 9 precisely.”

Just at that moment, Monsieur Marco came out from behind the curtain. “August informs me that you’re willing to wait for me to measure Vicomtesse Desmoulins before collecting your wardrobe, Sieur.” Killian nodded at the old man. “Very well, I’ll be ready for you after 2.”

“Until then, Monsieur,” he said, with a bow. “Vicomtesse Desmoulins, I’ll be pleased to join you at your home when I’ve concluded my business with Monsieur Marco.” With another bow toward the Vicomtesse, he spun on his heel, and left the shop.

~*~*~

Killian dismounted his horse later that afternoon and handed the reins along with a brief introduction to the lad that waited to attend to him in front of the Chateau Havre-de-brume, not far from the village. After seeing Monsieur Marco about his wardrobe, he had returned to the inn, changed into his new attire, and departed for the Chateau. He had no objection to spending a week with Vicomtesse Desmoulins and her family if it gave him a free place to stay and would make his entrance into Paris and the court of King Louis XVI easier.

A servant wearing the livery of the chateau opened the door. “The Prince d’Épinoy, I presume?” he asked.

“Yes, my good man.” Killian said with a small bow.

“Vicomtesse Desmoulins has been expecting you. Follow me please.” He turned from the door and led the way to a spiral staircase. Killian couldn’t help but notice the excellent stonework and ornamentation that lent an air of beauty and leisure to the chateau as he followed the servant onto the main floor and into the salon where his hostess waited. The salon was extremely large with huge fireplaces on either end of the room to keep the spring chill at bay. The large windows flooded the room with light as he approached the Vicomtesse, flanked by who could only be her husband and daughter.

“Ah, Monseigneur the Prince d’Épinoy,” she began, “allow me to introduce you to my husband, Vicomte Desmoulins and my older daughter, Regina.”

Killian gave a small bow of his head as he reached out his hand to greet the much older man, by appearance anyway, before him. “A pleasure to meet you, Vicomte.” He turned toward the young lady on the other side of his hostess. The beautiful young woman dropped into a curtsey before laying her hand in Killian’s outstretched one as he bowed over it, brushing his lips over the back of her hand.

Her cheeks flushed with pleasure as her eyes skittered away from his piercing blue gaze. The assessing gaze of her mother had a small smile ghosting across his lips as he straightened again before them. He had no doubt that the Vicomtesse was already contemplating a match between him and her daughter. She couldn’t be much younger than what he appeared to be- eighteen, nineteen, twenty at most.

“Please, be seated, Monseigneur,” his hostess invited. “Tea will be served momentarily.”

As Killian settled down where the Vicomtesse indicated and the Vicomte and Regina took their seats, the doors burst open when a girl of about nine or ten came blowing in with the force of a whirlwind, followed by a rather short and rotund woman clucking her tongue at the child.

“Maman, Papa,” she cried, “Johanna said that I couldn’t join you for tea today! Oh,” she exclaimed, as Killian turned toward her. “I- I’m sorry, Maman, I didn’t realize we had company.” She curtsied before him and Killian felt his mouth go dry. It was Emma. It was his golden haired Swan. Obviously younger than she was when he knew her, but the features were the same. The high cheekbones, rosebud mouth, button nose and pert chin, not to mention the long blonde hair and green eyes. But, how? Snapping his jaw shut, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the child. As she rose from her curtsey, her mother motioned the child to her side.

Gathering her in her arms, the Vicomtesse spoke gently to her. “This is Monseigneur the Prince d’Épinoy. You may call him Monseigneur.” Addressing Killian again, she continued, “Allow me to present my younger daughter, Emma.”

Dumbfounded, Killian extended his hand toward Emma. “It is a pleasure, Mademoiselle.”

“Generally, she would not join us for tea when we have visitors,” she gave a slightly disapproving look to her daughter, who looked sheepish in return while cutting her eyes toward her gouvernante, “but since she is already here, she may join us. Just this once.” She smiled indulgently, as Emma’s face broke into a grin to rival the sun.

Killian desperately tried to keep his turbulent thoughts hidden, as the tea was served. Soulmates unbound by time. Since his time in London, he had memorized every word of the prophecy and so easily recalled the line that had baffled him a century ago. He cut his eyes at Emma as she settled herself in her own seat. If he needed any further confirmation, he got it when he spied the birthmark on her neck. The same birthmark she had in her first life back in London. It was a second chance. They could have a second chance. He would have to bide his time until she was of marriageable age, but remembering what happened the last time he left her, he was reluctant to go that route. On the other hand, he had to keep her safe from Rumplestiltskin, too. There was still no doubt in his mind that the monster wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if who she was to Killian was revealed. He would have to keep his distance from the family, but close enough to satisfy himself that he wasn’t leaving her alone. Remaining at Court in Versailles would be perfect.

~*~*~

The week at the chateau passed by for Killian very pleasantly. Mornings were spent touring the estate with either the Vicomtesse or Mademoiselle Regina. Emma was too young to spend most of her day among the adults of the chateau, but when she didn’t join them for tea the next day, he made his desire for her presence known to the Vicomtesse. Since then, Emma was a daily participant in the afternoon ritual after her daily rest. It was a few days after he arrived at the chateau that he realized the compulsion to visit Paris, first felt all those years ago, was the soulmate connection. He was acutely aware of Emma’s presence whenever she was nearby, and when he was actually with her the connection he felt with her filled him with a joy that he hadn’t felt in a century. It must have come upon him shortly after her birth, but as something he’d never felt before, he didn’t recognize it for what it was.

As the days passed, the Vicomtesse found more and more reason to remove herself from Killian’s company and employ her daughter in the entertainment of their guest. Killian had trouble hiding his smirk as for the third day in a row, the Vicomtesse was suddenly pulled away on urgent business at the chateau leaving him to tour the stables with Regina, who couldn’t hide her eye roll and rosy blush as they continued toward the stables.

“Hmmmmm,” mused Killian, leaning in closer to his guide, “Do you think that perhaps your mother might be trying to get us to spend some time alone together?”

Regina’s blush intensified as she rolled her eyes again. “She’s very old fashioned in her thinking and is trying desperately to make me a suitable match. Which she obviously thinks you are.” Killian pulled open the door to the stable for his companion. She ducked her head in embarrassment, but was unable to hide the spark of excitement in her chocolate brown eyes as she proceeded him into the stables. As he entered behind her, they were quickly approached by a young man, about his own apparent age. Brown hair, neatly cut for a stable hand, swooped back over the crown of his head. He was a handsome man with fine, strong features. Arriving by Regina’s side, he had to clear his throat in order for the two young people to snap out of their own little world and acknowledge his presence. He couldn’t help his chuckle as Regina’s blush deepened even further and the young man before her looked startled at the addition of a third to their meeting.

“Daniel, may I present the Prince d’Épinoy. He is a guest at the chateau before we return to Versailles at the end of the week.”

Killian gave a small bow to the man before him. “It’s a pleasure, sir.”

Regina turned back toward him, while keeping her eyes on Daniel. “Daniel is the stable master and will be preparing the horses for us this morning.”

“Ah, yes,” Daniel began, “You must be the owner of Nox. I must say, he is a magnificent animal, Sieur.” He turned away from them and led them toward the far end of the stables. Killian couldn’t help the pride that swelled in him at the high praise the stable master had for the animal. Daniel chuckled to himself. “He wouldn’t let anyone near him except me. Not that I mind. It’s a privilege to work with such an exceptional and beautiful horse.”

“Thank you, monsieur.” Killian looked around the immaculately kept stable and took in the obvious good health and well being of the other animals in their stalls. “That is high praise coming from someone of your obvious expertise.” Killian followed him until Nox poked his head out of his stall and whinnied in greeting. Killian reached into his coat pocket for an apple that he had brought from the kitchens as he began stroking the lustrous midnight black coat of his prized stallion. He nickered in pleasure as he chomped down on the tasty treat as they waited for Daniel to attend to Regina’s horse, Rocinante. Once Regina was mounted and ready, Killian opened the door of the stall and Daniel led Nox out with the lead rope.

Once he was mounted, Killian and Regina left the stable. Killian’s thoughts turned toward the young woman at his side. It was quite obvious to him that Regina loved Daniel. And Daniel certainly seemed to return her affections. But he was perceptive enough to know that the Vicomtesse would never approve of such a match. Not with the way she was doing all in her power to foster affection between himself and her daughter. She obviously loved both of her daughters very much, but she was also shrewd and calculating. A suitable match for Regina would be someone of the nobility with a high status at court. Anyone deemed lesser than their own station would never be considered.

“Tell me, Mademoiselle,” Killian began, hesitantly, “just who is the stable master to you?” He looked over as a soft blush colored her cheeks. He waited patiently as she seemed reluctant to share. After her earlier revelation, he wanted to make sure that she knew that he had no interest in her mother’s machinations to secure a match between them. Thoughts had already begun to tickle the edge of his mind of how he might be able to help the young lovers, if she deigned to trust him.

Regina cleared her throat as they cantered along. “Why do you ask, Monseigneur?”

“I’m simply observant, lass.” Killian clicked his tongue at Nox, changing their direction as Regina led them on a more southeasterly track toward the chateau’s vineyards. “I couldn’t help but notice the way you both looked at each other when we first entered the stable. As if you two were the only ones in the world.” He fell silent for a moment as memories washed over him. “I’ve only seen that kind of look once before. On the faces of dear friends who were very much in love. True Love, if you ask me.”

“Were?” she asked, looking at him.

“Aye, were,” he replied, sadly. “They’ve been gone many years. Taken far too soon.”

“How old were you,” she asked, softly.

Killian immediately realized his mistake. Speaking of the close friendship he had with David and Mary Margaret in the past tense, when he only appeared to be in his very early twenties, would naturally confuse Regina.

Killian scratched behind his ear as he scrambled for what to say. “Ah, let’s just say,” he began, nervously, “that I’m much older than I look.”

Regina laughed. “Well, how old are you then?”

Killian waggled his eyebrows at her. “Older than I look. That’s all you need know.”

Regina huffed. “Okay, fine then.” They continued their ride through the green of the valley. Before they had gone much farther, Killian tried to draw her out again.

“You never answered my question, Mademoiselle. Who is the stable master to you?” He looked at her again as she struggled to hide her thoughts from his perceptive gaze. She glanced toward him, her dark eyes piercing, clearly trying to see if she could trust him. Perhaps he should give her a reason to. “As I said, Mademoiselle, I am much older than I look. I have traveled far, seen and done many things. Dark things. Things that could prove advantageous to your particular situation.”

Shock plainly registered across her features. “What do you mean? What situation?”

Killian stopped his horse and looked directly at the young woman. “A situation where you feel trapped.” She cast her furrowed brow down toward her lap. “I am not far off the mark, am I, when I say that your mother would never approve of a match with your Daniel. That she would forcibly keep you right here, controlling you, making you into a carbon copy of herself, with all her ambitions for a higher station at court resting on your shoulders.” His piercing gaze rested on her as she lifted her gaze to him again. He watched the blood drain from her face.

“How could you possibly know all that?” she whispered.

He reached over and gently took her hand in his own. “I am not of this world, Mademoiselle. Trust me when I say that I can help you. I have the means and the desire. But, you must trust me.”

~*~*~

Regina looked down at their joined hands. The confusion, and yes, fear, she felt at their guest’s revelations were hard to rein in. Not of this world. What did he mean? He had only been at their home for a short time, but in that time, he’d been nothing but a gentleman toward all the members of her family. His clear affection for her beloved younger sister was particularly gratifying. Somehow she knew that she could trust him with this secret, but that didn’t make it any easier to actually tell him.

“Yes,” she whispered, looking up at him again. “I love Daniel. And he loves me. His father died last winter, leaving him as the stable master. He’s been here with me as long as I can remember. He’s the one who taught me to ride.” She lowered her gaze again as she felt her cheeks flush at the memories that now poured from her lips. “We’ve been friends our entire lives. But last spring, that changed. We’ve had to be very discreet in our liaisons so that Mother wouldn’t catch us.”

She looked up at her companion again. His gentle gaze and soft smile prompted one of her own. “We’d love nothing more than to be together, but with Mother trying to force us together, Versailles imminent, and his new position here at the chateau, I don’t know how it would be possible,” she cried.

He released her hands and knickered to his horse to get them moving again. “You leave that to me. I’ll play the dutiful suitor between now and then, culminating with a fake engagement,” he ruminated, waggling his eyebrows at her, prompting a giggle from her. ”When we return to the chateau to plan a wedding, I’ll have all the arrangements made for you and Daniel to be together. Now, how can I help you between now and our journey to court?”

She cantered briskly to catch up with him. “You’d help me? Help us? Why?”

He laughed. A bitter, brittle thing that told of pain and despair beyond measure. “Let’s just say that I have a soft spot for those trapped in circumstances that they have no control over.” She couldn’t see his face, but she could imagine the storm clouds covering his visage with that statement. It was so desperate, so hopeless, that she felt her own heart go out to him. What kind of circumstances did he feel trapped in? Somehow she knew that she would never be privy to that information.

She caught up with him and gently placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you. But if there’s anything that I can do for you, you need only name it.”

His lips lifted in a soft smile. He patted her hand and looked up into her eyes again. His blue eyes were clear now. Clear as a summer sky. “Thank you, my dear. As we will be spending some time together in the coming months, fake courting and all, I would like for you to call me Killian.”

She could feel her cheeks flush again. “Then I must insist on you calling me Regina. It will make Mother think that we are getting closer. Which can only be good for keeping Daniel a secret from her.”

“Indeed. I’ll arrange for you to be my guide and companion for these last few days before we leave for Versailles, and you can meet Daniel without fear.”

The joy that exploded in her heart at his words could not be contained and a girlish giggle erupted from her lips. She dug her heels into Rocinante’s sides and took off toward the vineyards at a gallop with her new friend galloping behind, laughing along with her.

[chocoluckchipz]

Unexpected Surprise: Fanfare

A bonus one shot to Unexpected Surprise

Read it on A03, WattPad, FF.net

“Here you go.” André stretched out his hand to offer an ice cream cone to Adrien. “Chocolate for a brown mop of hair, blueberry for the eyes that will entice, crème Brule for the sun-kissed skin. The little lady is just a child, but destiny is already smiling upon her.”

“Thank you, André.” Adrien nodded, taking the cone. “Now I know who to look out for. Emma,” he called, turning to his side, “Here’s your ice cre-”

The words stuck in Adrien’s throat. He turned around. Emma was nowhere to be seen. In her place, Louis, her three-year-old brother, enjoyed his oversized cone of strawberry vanilla ice cream alone.

“Emma?” Adrien looked around, panic slowly gripping his insides because, for everything she was, Emma wasn’t the one to just wander off. Especially, not when there was an ice cream cone waiting for her after they’d spent almost an hour searching for André’s cart. Picking up Louis, Adrien called his daughter’s name again. No answer followed. Frantically, he looked around for Marinette, but she and baby Hugo didn’t seem to be back yet.

Don’t panic, Adrien tried to calm himself down, scanning the area more thoughtfully. There was an open square to his right. Emma wasn’t there. A busy street flooded with cars was behind them. Adrien shifted his sight to the left—Emma was smarter than to wander into the traffic. To the left, there was a park loitered with people and filled with rides.

“Emma!” Louis laughed and pointing somewhere into the park. Adrien’s gaze snapped towards the area. His breathing hitched, eyes widening the instant he spotted his ten-year-old daughter.

“Emma, no!”

Forgetting the ice cream, Adrien held Louis tighter as he sprinted towards his daughter, naively helping out an elderly man in a Hawaiian shirt to stand up. It took him only a few seconds.

“I respect you- Master Fu, but- you can’t do that—” Adrien blurted out as soon as he’d reached the duo could, “Master Fu- she is just ten. She is too young. Please, don’t-Don’t you already have a perfectly capable pair of adult superheroes? As her father- I can’t allow this. Why would you want her in the first place? There has been no threat to Paris since we took down the Hawkmoth.”

“Nice to see you again too, Adrien,” the man calmly smiled and stretched out his hand. “You seem to be doing well. Though, I remember you being much more relaxed and calmer back in the days. You should take care of yourself, young man; stress isn’t good for you.”

“You don’t say,” Adrien replied, shaking Fu’s hand. “Glad to see you are still doing well, Master Fu.”

“You know him, Daddy?” Emma asked.

“Yup,” Adrien nodded. “Master Fu used to- teach me Chinese?”

“I did,” the older man smiled satisfactorily. “And your father, little lady, was one of the best students I’ve ever had. We haven’t seen each other in a long time, though, right, Adrien?”

“Yeah. Probably since a few months before I left for New York City. So, a little over eleven years? You didn’t age a day, though, Master Fu. You look amazing.”

“Oh, I did. I certainly did,” Master Fu replied with a sigh, leaning onto his cane. “It might not show it, but I definitely started to feel the years recently. That’s actually a part of the reason I’m here-”

“Master Fu,” Adrien interrupted with a sigh. “With all due respect, let’s be reasonable - I was fourteen, so was Marinette. Emma’s still a child, and you already have older students doing their work perfectly fine. You don’t need her, and even if you did, you could wait a few years.”

Amusement was hard to miss in Master Fu’s smile. “You don’t even know what I’m here for exactly and you already refusing?”

“Yes,” Adrien stated firmly, looking at a very confused Emma. It was incredible she’d kept quiet as long as she did, but the frown on her face and slightly parted lips meant it wouldn’t last much longer. “As her father, I cannot allow this at her age.”

“Allow what, Daddy?” Emma finally inquired.

Adrien took his time setting Louis down on the ground as he pondered on his answer. “A job? Hard, grown-up job.”

“But it’s a fun one, isn’t it, Adrien?” Master Fu inserted with a grin. “You had the best time of your life working this job as you say, didn’t you?”

Emma’s face brightened. “I want a fun job. School is boring. A fun job sounds better.”

“That’s not even up for discussion, young Lady,” Adrien narrowed his eyes at her. “Legal working age in France is fourteen, and you’re a few years younger than that. And even then, you’ll require permission from Mamma and me, and I doubt she’d like that idea.”

Emma pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “I work with Grandpa Gabriel,” she murmured. “We design clothes together.”

“That isn’t really a job,” Adrien replied. “Grandpa Gabriel just lets you mess around in his office.”

“That’s not true,” Emma pouted “He likes my ideas and-”

“And we won’t tire Master Fu with our argument, Emma,” Adrien inserted. “You’re too young for the job right now. Come back when you’re older.”

Emma puffed, crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. A moment later Louis poked his ice cream cone into her face and murmured something about her being happy instead of sad. A few pokes later the girl laughed and pulled a handkerchief out of her little purse to wipe her face.

“Why don’t you and Marinette come visit me?” Master Fu offered. “I’ve just received a package of exceptionally rare green tea straight from China. You should come by. Say, this evening?”

“Master Fu?” Marinette came up from behind with a stroller. Her face brightened. “You look fantastic. So nice to bump into you here. How is everything going?”

“He fell, and I helped him up, Mommy,” Emma beamed.

Marinette froze, the smile disappearing from her face.

“I think she is too young, Marinette,” Adrien inserted, shrugging his shoulders. “Paris has a lot of other older candidates if they’re needed at all. Maybe consider adults for once? Because this is quite a heavy responsibility. No one should just hand it over to a small child. And, frankly, what’s wrong with the current pair? They’ve been doing fine, no?”

“Is there a new threat?” Marinette asked instead of letting Master Fu answer Adrien’s question.

The older man shook his head. “None that I’m aware of, but that isn’t why I’m here. I just wanted to invite you two for a cup of tea tonight.”

“Right,” Adrien quirked a skeptical eyebrow. “And that’s why you fell so Emma could help you out?”

“What can I say?” Master Fu smiled, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “I’m getting old.”

“We can come for tea, right, Adrien?” Marinette turned to her husband and whispered, “Don’t you want to see them again?”

Adrien’s eyes widened for just a fraction of a second before he shifted his gaze to the side. “Aren’t they with their new wielders?”

“Not anymore,” Master Fu replied. “He got a job proposal from abroad they couldn’t refuse, especially because she’s expecting their first child. Moved away to Norway about a week ago.”

Marinette smiled. “Are they together as well?”

“They’ve been married for a few years now.”

“And you want us-”

“To visit me for a cup of tea.” Master Fu interrupted with a smile. “We’ll talk then.”

Adrien glanced at Marinette. She nibbled at her lower lip, glancing at him.

“I want to see them,” she mouthed to him.

“Okay,” Adrien agreed. “What time would be the most convenient for you, Master Fu?”

“How about six?”

“Six works for us,” Marinette nodded. “We can drop children at my parents for a few hours.”

“Good.” Master Fu nodded. “Bring the young lady with you. She promised me some ice cream.”

“She had to be extra,” Adrien mumbled. “Simply helping would’ve been just fine and without a food offering.”

Marinette laughed. Standing up on her tiptoes, she placed a kiss on Adrien’s cheek. “She is your daughter, you know.”

Before Adrien could reply, Louis suddenly darted away to chase a pigeon.

“We’ll discuss that later — in detail,” Adrien blurted and with a wink at Marinette ran after Louis making quite a show out if capturing the boy to the collective laughs of his family. No one noticed when and how Master Fu disappeared.

The massage parlour looked just like Master Fu– it hadn’t changed the tiniest bit. Marinette creaked open the familiar door and stepped inside, followed by Emma and Adrien. Master Fu stood up from his place behind a low table in greeting.

“Welcome.” The older man bowed his head and prompted the pair and their daughter to come inside.

“Good evening, Master Fu,” Marinette greeted, echoed by Adrien.

“Nice to see you again,” Emma added, tightly holding onto her father’s hand.

They spent a few more minutes on pleasantries before settling down around the table. Once seated, Emma placed a decently sized tub on top.

“I promised you some ice cream, Master Fu,” she said and pushed the treat towards an older man. “That’s my favourite flavour–strawberry cheesecake. I hope you’ll like it.”

“Thank you,” Master Fu smiled at her. “Do you mind if I share it with someone who would absolutely love it?”

“Not at all,” Emma beamed. “Who do you want to share it with?”

“One of my little friends you’ll soon meet.”

Adrien glanced around, a question threatening to slip off his lips.

“They’ll be here shortly,” Master Fu chuckled. “I’m sure Plagg can barely stay away considering you brought him a treat.”

Marinette giggled. “I see I’m not the only one who can smell it a mile away?”

“I’m old, not senseless.” Master Fu replied. “I could smell that cheese as soon as you entered.”

Adrien pouted. “It isn’t my fault Plagg has a weird taste in food.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate the gesture, though,” the older man smiled. “However, there is something I wanted to discuss with you before they join us.”

Both Adrien and Marinette nodded, their full attention now focused on Master Fu. Emma was taking in her surroundings, side glancing the pictures on the wall.

“Emma,” Master Fu addressed the girl. “Have you ever heard of Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

The girl’s eyes sparkled. “Yes! Of course, I did! They are my favourite superheroes, Master Fu.”

The man nodded. “Good. But did you know that your parents used to be Ladybug and Chat Noir a few years back?”

“Wait,” Emma’s smile vanishing as she turned to her parents. “So you weren’t lying?”

“Nope.” Adrien proudly shook his head, a satisfied grin on his face, longing in his eyes. “That was one of the best times of my life.”

“That’s how we met.”

“And fell in love.”

“But I thought—”

“We would never lie to you about something like this, kitten,” Marinette added, giving her daughter’s shoulder a squeeze. “Especially not bringing you here.”

Emma squeaked. “Wait- so then… a snarky, cheese-obsessed cat and a giant ladybug with huge eyes and biggest, sweetest tooth ever are real?” Her eyes sparkled. “Can they really fly? And how do they give super-powers? Will I meet them? Daddy said this-” she frowned, trying to remember.

“Plagg,” Adrien helped.

“Yes! Plagg! Daddy said Plagg was the best despite his smelly obsession.”

“Huh!” Plagg suddenly appeared right in front of her eyes, grinning. “Behold, kid, amazing and awesome, the best, one and only god of destruction at your service.” He bowed dramatically and immediately switched his attention to Adrien. Almost drooling, he closed his eyes and sniffed the air. “Do I smell Camembert in your bag? And my favourite brand too.”

“Plagg! We were supposed to wait until Master Fu called us!” Tikki flew out of her hiding spot.

“I sincerely apologize, Master Fu,” Wayzz followed her. “I couldn’t contain him any longer.”

“That’s alright,” Master Fu replied with a chuckle. “I’m surprised Plagg stayed away for as long as he did anyway. He was so eager to see Adrien again.”

“I was not,” Plagg grumbled. “I’m just hungry! Super hungry. Starving, in fact!”

Adrien chuckled and pulled a few round boxes out of his bag. “Nice to see you again, little fellow.” He gently scratched the kwami’s chin a few times. Plagg closed his eyes, barely containing the purr; then snapped them open and dropped onto the table right by the cheese offering.

“Nice to see you too,” the kwami purred, hugging the boxes. “My long-lost love. My lovely, gooey, deliciously smelly goodness.”

Master Fu laughed as Plagg opened the first box and immediately swallowed the contents. “You ate ten minutes ago, Plagg.”

“And those ten minutes were an eternity,” the kwami grumbled. “Especially because it was one measly wedge, not even a whole wheel. “At least my Chat Noirs know how to treat such a powerful god as me.”

“Happy to be of service.” Adrien chuckled and glanced at Marinette. She was already offering her kwami a box of freshly baked chocolate chips cookies. Their reunion was different though: the box stood unopened at the table as Tikki and Marinette hugged, nudging each other’s cheeks and whispering each other something for their ears only. From the looks of it, his wife was on the verge of tears despite her delighted smile. Emma watched everyone with widely opened eyes and a slightly opened mouth.

“This is so cool,” she whispered to no one in particular.

“Of course, I’m cool,” Plagg commented between devouring the second and third boxes. “I’ll have you know that I’m the coolest kwami around.”

“Kwami?” the girl echoed, leaning closer, her hand reaching forward to poke Plagg’s belly much to his annoyance. “Is that some kind of fairy? Or maybe a genie?”

“I’m not a fairy,” Plagg puffed, chewing on his cheese. “I’m a powerful god.”

“Kwami is an abstract creature,” Master Fu explained. “You’ll learn the specifics later, but for now all you need to know is that kwamis give superheroes their powers. Plagg here is the kwami of destruction and he gives Chat Noir his powers. Tikki—” the mentioned kwami flew closer to Emma and waved, “—is the kwami of creation-”

“She’s a ladybug,” Emma squealed, putting her palms together for Tikki to sit on. “So cute!”

“Hello, Emma,” Tikki smiled at the girl and looked at Marinette. “Your daughter is lovely, Marinette.”

“I bet she already has a transformation routine ready, just like her Dad,” Plagg smirked, flying closer, the last piece of Camembert in his paws.

“She inherited her father’s bravery and her mother’s creativity,” Master Fu added. “Emma has a lot of potential for what I have in mind for her.”

Adrien frowned. “Not to sound ungrateful and rude, but have you been stalking us?”

Master Fu laughed. “I need not stalk someone to see their essence, Adrien, and Emma’s wide on display. With the right training, she’ll make a fantastic Guardian.”

“A Guardian?” Adrien and Marinette echoed in unison, matching, perplexed expressions downing on their faces.

“Yes, a Guardian.” Master Fu nodded. “I’ve got another decade or two in me, but, unfortunately, I won’t be around forever, and someone would have to take over.”

“What’s a Guardian?” Emma interceded.

“Master Fu,” Adrien ignored her question. “Emma is only ten.”

“Which is a few years already too late,” the older man sighed. “I should’ve started her training at around the age of seven or eight, but the timing wasn’t right, so I delayed it.”

“What makes the timing right now?” Marinette joined the conversation.

“Mostly, having Chat Noir and Ladybug miraculouses back in my care,” Master Fu explained. “To be honest, I should put them back in stasis since you two defeated Hawkmoth and the last pair tracked and retrieved the peacock miraculous for me. With no new threats on the horizon, there is no need for a new pair of Chat Noir and Ladybug. However,” the man sighed. “I am getting old, and while I can teach the new Guardian the wisdom they need, I won’t be any good with physical combat education. You, on the other hand,” he pointed to the pair, “with your experience and youth, you would be the ideal candidates.”

“You want to give us back our miraculouses?” Adrien asked, his breathing considerably slowing down.

“If you accept my proposal, yes,” Master Fun confirmed. “Emma has the needed potential, which is rare in this age. As her parents, you would be in the best position to support and supervise her training. There will be no need for secrecy inside your family which will lessen the strain of the burden for her. And I’ll have a piece of a mind that the next Guardian is in safe hands, well protected by her experienced parents.”

Adrien looked at Marinette. Her face serious, she looked back at him. They watched each other for a few moments, considering Master Fu’s words before Marinette asked, “We should ask Emma what she wants.”

Adrien nodded. The next few minutes the trio tried their best to explain to Emma the ins and outs of the offered job.

“Seriously?” the girl squealed at the end. Unusually quiet until then, she was watching everyone with wide eyes, taking in every word. “I can be the Guardian of all superheroes in the universe???”

“No, not all of them.” Master Fu chuckled. “Just those under my care here in Paris.”

“Do I get to be a superhero too?”

“Yes,” the older man nodded. “You’ll be able to choose a Miraculous for yourself to help you on this journey.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Can I be Chat Noir?! I’ve always wanted to be Chat Noir!”

“Told you I’m the coolest,” Plagg snickered, giving Tikki a half-lidded, satisfied glance.

“I’m afraid Plagg is already taken,” Master Fu shook his head. “So is Tikki, but there are plenty of others-”

“Oh! Who else do you have?” the girl’s eyes lit up. “Do you have a dragon? Or a unicorn? A sabre-toothed tiger? Or maybe a panda? Baby pandas are so cute! Oh! Jellyfish??? They’re so beautiful and you can see right through them!”

“Master Fu,” Marinette interrupted. “This is a big decision.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “I realize that. That’s why I came to you, instead of going directly to Emma.”

“What are you talking about?” Adrien grumbled. “You fell and waited for her to help you out. Reminds me of something.”

“I was just making sure my choice was right,” Master Fu smiled. “I would’ve never asked her directly without your involvement.”

“Do you mind if we take a few days to think about it?” Marinette asked. “This is something that will permanently change not just her life but ours as well. Even our other children’s lives will never be the same. We need to consider it carefully.”

Master Fu smiled. “You were always wise, Ladybug. I didn’t expect you to agree without carefully considering everything.”

Plagg grumbled. “What is there to think about? Just-”

“Hush, you,” Tikki interrupted him. “Marinette’s right. It’s a big decision and needs to be considered carefully.”

Puffing, Plagg frowned and mumbled under his breath something about dreaming and a fridge full of chewy goodness that Adrien had always kept nice and stocked for him.

“And here I thought you actually cared for me.” Adrien chuckled.

“I do care for you,” Plagg replied. “For you and the cheese you come with.”

Glancing at the clock, Marinette interrupted, “I think it’s about time we depart, Master Fu. We needed to pick up the kids from my parents’ house about five minutes ago.”

“Right.” Adrien nodded and stood up. “We should go. Thank you for the tea, Master Fu.”

“Thank you, Master Fu,” Marinette bowed her head, standing up as well. “We’ll take a few days to consider everything and will call you back with our decision by the end of the next week.”

“Of course.” Master Fu smiled, bidding the duo farewell. “I’ll be awaiting your call.”

A few days later they still hadn’t come to a concrete decision. Tangled in the chaos of everyday lives, Adrien and Marinette had barely discussed the subject that was constantly on their minds. Unlike them, Emma couldn't stop asking questions, ranging from silly ones to quite serious neither Marinette nor Adrien could answer. What do kwami eat? Do they sleep? Do they use a bathroom? Do they need a bath? How are they born? Do they die at some point? Will she live as long as Master Fu had?

The week neared its end and their self-imposed deadline was closing in: delaying the answer was not an option anymore.

“Not reading today?” Marinette asked, entering the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom after a shower. It was her favourite part of the day - the kids were fast asleep, and the pair could enjoy each other without constant interruptions. Whatever it was a simple conversation or a steamy make-out session didn’t matter: Adrien made every minute special for her.

“Got my head way too occupied for that,” her husband murmured as he lay in their bed, his eyes focused on the ceiling, arms behind his head.

Silently, Marinette got in beside him. Placing her arms on Adrien’s chest, she rested her head on top of them. “I think it’s about time we talk about it.”

Adrien shifted into a position where he could look at his wife as he spoke, his arms loosely wrapping around her body pressed to his chest.

“I feel like I’d be a bad father if I allow Emma to be a Guardian. It’s a dangerous job.”

“Yet, you are still thinking about it?”

Adrien closed his eyes, groaning. “Unfortunately.”

Marinette chuckled. “It has its perks.”

“If there weren’t any, I’d refuse straight away, but-” Adrien felt quiet for just long enough for Marinette to pick up his line.

“-but being Chat Noir was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you’re thinking maybe it wouldn’t be so awful for Emma to experience something similar, right? Not to mention that we’ll get our kwamis back as a bonus.”

Adrien looked at Marinette. Gently, he ran his hand through her hair, fingers relishing in the smooth texture. “Being Chat Noir…” he echoed quietly. “That and meeting you were the best things that ever happened to me. It changed my life, it changed me. You changed me, Marinette.”

His hand glided down to tenderly cup Marinette’s face. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes.

“You’ve made me the man I’m today, Mari. The way I was raised, without you in my life, I’d still be an oblivious, socially awkward drama queen.”

Looking at him with a smile on her lips, Marinette protested. “You give me too much credit, Chaton. You weren’t that bad. You were unfortunate enough to be sheltered your whole life from the real world, which, may I point out, isn’t your fault at all. But you did a great job catching up to us regular folks, though. In your own time.”

Adrien fell quiet. His hand returned to Marinette’s back as he thought. “It was worth all the danger in the world,” he murmured a little while later.

“What exactly?”

“Our time together,” he clarified. “Everything we’ve been through, all the akuma fights, all the danger… it was all worth it because that’s how I got to know you… Every little moment we’ve shared… Our patrols, our banter, our silly or serious conversations on random rooftops, even our arguments… I’ll never be able to forget any of it… It was life-changing,” Adrien sighed, his arms tightening around Marinette’s figure, bringing her closer. “So, I did think, maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to let Emma experience that…”

“But?”

“But,” Adrien groaned. “I can’t willingly sign her up for such a dangerous job right now. She’s still just a kid. In a few years–maybe? But at ten? I don’t know… I’m not sure.”

Marinette didn’t reply. She lay her head back on Adrien’s chest and closed her eyes. His arms around her seemed to tighten with every passing minute as they lay in silence.

“Do you want to consider pros and cons?” Marinette finally spoke after a while, “To help us decide?”

“It’s dangerous.” Adrien started. “I know there are no super-villains around right now, but what if they will appear in the future?”

“Being the Guardian, she’ll have the means to defend herself,” Marinette countered. “It’s better than idly running away, hoping that someone will save you.”

“Like mother, like daughter,” Adrien chuckled. “You never liked to be the damsel in distress, and I’m afraid Emma isn’t the type either.”

“Exactly,” Marinette nodded. “With her character and attitude, she’ll be running into a battle heads first, having an ability to help or not. Being the Guardian might just be safer for her since it’ll give her at least some agency and training before anything happens. She’ll be well prepared, unlike us.”

“What if people will come after her, seeking the Miraculous?”

“I think the risk of that is low since so little people know about their existence. Master Fu will soon reach two hundred, and in all those years he’s only had issues a handful of times.”

“We can’t really consider his experience to be an average, though,” Adrien objected. “People change; so do times. Just think about it - if only a few chosen ones knew about the miraculouses before, now the entire world has seen superheroes. Someone somewhere is bound to look for the source of their powers.”

“True,” Marinette agreed. “But if Emma keeps a low profile, she should avoid any suspicions. Master Fu’s done that for years, and it worked pretty well. Plus, she’ll have the ability to summon a whole team of Miraculous holders to help her if needed. And, don’t forget we will protect her as long as we can.”

“She also has two brothers,” Adrien added, smiling at Marinette. “I’m sure, they’d love to support her as well.”

Marinette nodded, adjusting her position, so she could not only rest on Adrien’s chest but also draw shapes on his bare skin. A muffled pant escaped Adrien’s throat as soon as Marinette’s fingers touched him. He closed his eyes in delight.

“I think we, as no one else, know that it’s a hard and responsible and dangerous job,” Marinette voiced her own thoughts. “And I am scared and hesitant as well…”

“But?” Adrien asked not opening his eyes as he savoured her fingers’ gentle ministrations on his skin.

“But I think Emma can do it,” Marinette said confidently. “For some inexplicable reason, I feel like that’s what she’s meant to be.”

Adrien sighed before quietly adding. “That’s exactly what stopping me from plainly refusing it too. I don’t know why but there is this feeling- and I consider it but-”

“But then your rational and overprotective side steps in, and you hesitate,” Marinette finished.

“Exactly.” Adrien agreed, catching Marinette’s gaze. “Though, I’d be lying if I say I’m not surprised you are so fine with it. You’ll give me a run for my money in the overprotectiveness department.”

“That’s when you try to steal my sweets, Chaton.” Marinette laughed.

Adrien chuckled. “You’ll think a loving wife would be willing to share her macarons with her dear husband,”

“Well, I would if my dear husband wouldn’t eat his own share and then try to steal mine. Don’t blame me for kicking his ass for that.”

“Wouldn’t even dream of that.” Adrien laughed, squeezing Marinette closer and whispering against her hair. “Love you so much, Mari.”

“Love you too, Chaton,” Marinette smiled, relaxing into his hold. In a moment she added, “But seriously, I think Emma can do it. Plus, she isn’t asked to fight. She’s asked to take Master Fu’s wisdom and carry it on. Fighting can always be done by someone else.”

“True,” Adrien sighed. “And she really wants it. She hasn’t stopped talking about it ever since we’ve come back. The amount of questions she has is overwhelming, and it hasn’t even occurred to her we might refuse.”

Marinette lifted herself a little above him to catch his gaze. “Oh, really? You think you’ve got it bad? She keeps asking me about all the kwamis every time we are together. I think I’ve already told her everything I know about them at least three or four times. So many questions; I was ready to escape and hide somewhere a few times already.”

“Seems like she’s already trying to decide which one she wants to choose.”

“Most likely.”

“Her eagerness is scary.”

“You can’t blame her.” Marinette poked his chest with her finger. “She’s the daughter of someone so eager to get into action he didn’t even finish listening to his kwami’s instructions before transforming and running off to save Paris.”

“You, on the other hand, didn’t want to be a superhero in the first place,” Adrien retaliated. “Why couldn’t she inherit that? It would’ve made our decision so much easier.”

Marinette chuckled. “Would you have liked it if I’d quit that first day, then?”

Adrien laughed, pulling Marinette closer. “Not in any of my nine lives. You were meant for this, Marinette. Plagg told me you were one of the best Ladybugs he’d ever worked with. Master Fu made a great choice.”

“He made an excellent choice with you, Chaton,” Marinette replied, placing a light kiss on his lips. “No one would’ve been able to protect me better than you. Master Fu does have an exceptional sense for choosing a wielder.”

They both paused, watching each other and without words understanding what that last statement meant regarding Emma. Their daughter not only inherited their best qualities but at her early age was already showing signs of deep connection to things most people knew nothing about. After all, she predicted pretty accurately how she would meet her father. Working with ancient knowledge and kwamis seemed like the perfect job for her, and they both knew it.

“Should I call Master Fu tomorrow?” Marinette asked. “We can always try it and see if it works.”

“Sure,” Adrien nodded and pulled her back to himself, burying his face into the crook of her neck. Marinette’s gentle touch as she got her fingers into his hair soothed him. Soon he was already purring–his amazing wife knew exactly how to calm him, she knew every single one of his sensitive spots and which strokes made him feel safe and loved and assured that everything would be all right - Emma would be a great Guardian and they would keep her safe until she could take care of herself.

“Don’t forget to ask about the aging thing, though,” Adrien murmured. “We need to know how it works exactly.”

“Sure. I’ll try to remember.”

“I hope you know how much I love you,” he whispered into her skin, tightening his grip on her petite frame.

“How can I forget? Marinette smiled. You tell me that only a thousand times a day.”

“Which is a million times too little,” Adrien replied. He pulled back to look in Marinette’s eyes. “Seriously, Mari. I feel so lucky you’ve waited for me. So lucky you fell in love with me in the first place.”

“I can say the same thing to you.” Marinette cupped his cheek, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. “I’m the lucky one here.”

Adrien didn’t reply. Instead, he flipped them over so he could hover over Marinette. He watched her without words for a few moments before leaning down and capturing her lips in a kiss full of adoration, full of appreciation, full of tenderness and love. When breathing had become impossible, he pulled away for air and whispered, “I love you too much to express with words.”

“I love you too,” Marinette replied quietly. “Always did and always will, Chaton. And just so you know—” she smirked, “there are other ways of expressing affection.”

A matching grin overtook Adrien’s face. Longing in his eyes, his voice husky and low, he murmured before leaning down to catch Marinette’s lips in another kiss, “And I know the perfect one for right about now.”

“Welcome back,” Master Fu opened the door of his parlour and prompted the three of them inside. To their surprise, the table was already set for tea, four mugs taking their respective places.

“You knew we were coming at this precise hour?” Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “Even though we’ve never specified the time apart from some time closer to the evening?”

Master Fu nodded. “I know a lot of things, Adrien. I also know you’ve decided to give it a chance to see if it would work or not, which is a wise decision to make for parents of a young lady. And before you ask, no, I do not spy on you or your family.”

Adrien shifted his eyes to the side. “I said nothing.”

Master Fu laughed. “You didn’t have to. Your expression told me everything. Now, come on in. We have some wonderful tea waiting for us.”

“I hope you understand, Master Fu,” Marinette said, settling at the table. “As much as we’d love to get our kwamis back and for Emma to experience that as well, it’s a huge responsibility, and she is only ten years old. A trial run seemed like the perfect solution.”

“I can do it,” Emma said, her eyes shining brightly as she continued. “I’m learning three languages–French, English and Chinese, so I can easily learn the cipher code or a grimoire to read all kinds of secrets. And I’ve been helping Mama taking care of my baby brothers so I can take good care of all the tiny kwamis. I’ll protect them.” She made a serious face. “Daddy also promised to sign me up for a martial arts class, so I can be brave and strong just like him.”

“You’re already strong and brave, Emma,” Master Fu replied with a smile. “Not only in body but in mind and spirit too. That’s why I chose you, young lady.”

“Before we formally agree to anything, though,” Adrien interfered. “We’d like to know what being a Guardian will include specifically and what kind of training you’d have Emma go through.”

Master Fu nodded. “Shall we review everything over a cup of tea?”

Over the next half an hour, the four of them discussed the details of what was to be Emma’s role - from weekly lessons with Master’s Fu to physical training in combat she was to receive from her parents and any other outside sources they would deem necessary. She was to learn the grimoire, and as her knowledge would increase, to read scrolls and books Master Fu had on him. A lot of her education would involve handling kwamis, getting to know their strengths and weaknesses. As she got older, she was to study psychology and learn to discern people and their intentions to aid her natural instincts. Her training would start little by little, the load increasing with age and capabilities, so to not interfere with her everyday life and responsibilities.

The aging concern Marinette and Adrien had was dealt with when Master Fu explained that his extraordinary longevity was a side-effect of his turtle kwami.

“Just like Chat Noirs can purr and Ladybugs feel fatigued during the colder seasons,” the older man clarified. “Emma’s particular side-effect will depend upon her kwami. So, unless she chooses Wayzz, there is nothing for you to worry about.”

Unlike them, nothing worried Emma, though. With every word, her eyes sparkled brighter as she translated everything into her own language: she would learn a lot of secrets and cipher code (which was so cool she didn’t have the right words to express it); she would be able to see right through people (which would come in handy at school); she’d get to know adorable kwamis and play with them all she wanted (that alone made it all worth it). But most importantly, Emma would get to be a superhero with her parents — a dream she’d never even dared to entertain.

“I guess everything sounds good,” Adrien concluded, looking at Marinette. “What do you think?”

Marinette nodded. “I think the set up seems fair and manageable, so if Emma still wants it, I won’t oppose.”

“I do! I Do! I DO!” Emma as good as jumped in place. “Mama, please? Please, Daddy? I really, really want to be a Guardian.”

“You do understand that it isn’t all fun and games, Emma?” Marinette asked. “It will be a lot of hard work on top of everything you already have to keep up with. Can you handle it all?”

“I can!” she grinned. A moment later she looked with hopeful eyes at her parents. “And if I fall behind in anything, you’ll help me, right?”

“Of course, we will.” Adrien ruffled her hair. “That’s what we’re here for.”

“And don’t forget us,” Tikki and Plagg appeared in their midst. “We can also help.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Plagg yawned. “But I can keep out of the way if you feed me well.”

Agrestes laughed. Master cleared his throat. “So, if we are all in agreement, why don’t we see which kwami will choose Emma?”

“A kwami will choose me?” Emma frowned. “I thought I’d be choosing a kwami, not the other way around.”

“That’s not how it works, young lady,” Master Fu responded. “The Guardian chooses a kwami for a wielder, but it is kwamis who choose the Guardian. Don’t be afraid, though - you’ll get the best kwami for you. They can sense your essence and abilities, and the one who will fit you the most, the one with whom you can reach the most potential will feel it and come forth.”

“Something like a predestined bond?” Marinette asked.

“Something like that,” Master Fu smiled. “From my experience, I’m pretty certain that if Emma were to choose, she’d be inclined towards the same kwami that will choose her. But since kwamis are more perceptive than ten-year-olds, we give them the right of choice.”

“Makes sense,” Adrien agreed.

“Shall we proceed then?” Master Fu stood up to get the box which he dedicated his life to protect. He placed it in the middle of the table, said something in a language no one could understand and opened the box. Everyone held their breath as the compartments opened, revealing miraculouses. Only Marinette realized that something unusual was going on because along with the miraculouses all the kwamis appeared as well. Emma could hardly contain a squeal.

“Step forward, Emma,” Master Fu prompted the girl to stand in the middle of the room as he turned to the kwamis. “This is your new Guardian-in-training, kwamis. Look deep inside yourself and her, and see who will be her partner in this journey.”

With his words, little creatures whispered excitedly between themselves, one by one flying over and circling around Emma until they all surrounded her. With her eyes wide open, her mouth slightly ajar, and her breath hitched, Emma looked around herself from one kwami to the other. They watched her back with unhidden curiosity.

“She’s pretty,” Mullo, the mouse kwami, whispered.

“Smart,” Sass, the snake kwami, added.

“Loyal,” Bark, the dog kwami, noted.

“She knows how to have fun,” Fluff, the rabbit, mentioned.

“She’s got sass,” Trixx, the fox, smirked.

“She’s a queen,” Pollen, the bee kwami, stated.

“I can sense fierceness,” Longg, the dragon kwami, added. “A lot.”

Emma’s eyes locked on a tiny peacock who similarly couldn’t take her eyes off her.

“She’s all that and more,” Duusu finally spoke. “Loyal, fierce, smart and pretty. She is a born protector, but most importantly she has an acute connection to the supernatural and mystical, and to us, kwamis, beings not of this physical world. Not only is she open to everything most people are skeptical about, but she embraces it. She was always good at sensing people’s true nature; however, she has the potential to see into the deepest parts of their hearts.” Duusu flew out of the circle and stopping in front of Emma bowed, “You are my beautiful and poised Peafowl, my Guru, and my Master, my Bella Pavo, Emma Agreste.”

As in awe, Emma stretched out her hands and let Duusu land on them. “You are so pretty,” she whispered and smiled. “I like you too.”

“The choice has been made,” Master Fu announced, and the kwamis erupted in cheerful shouts.

“We have to commemorate it with a song,” Sass announced and circling Emma and Duusu once more the kwamis started to sing. A tiny ray of light formed by each creature as they sang, slowly heading towards the two standing in the middle until a bright hallo enveloped Emma and Duusu.

“So, a peacock?” Adrien asked, watching his daughter interact with a tiny creature. “Wasn’t it broken?”

“One of the Guardian’s many abilities is to repair Miraculous,” Master Fu reassured him. “Don’t worry, it’s a brand new Miraculous.”

“What powers does it have exactly?” Marinette inquired.

“As a peacock miraculous wielder,” Master Fu explained. “Emma would be able to summon a guardian or a protector representing their emotions for anyone, including herself. A good choice,” he added. “A fitting one, I’d say, seeing how perceptive your daughter is.”

“She did always sense people’s true nature unusually well,” Marinette said quietly, remembering all the troubles she went through with Emma’s babysitters. Now that she thought about it, even as a baby Emma used to resist only those people who weren’t particularly thrilled about watching over her or even those who didn’t care much for it. Yet she happily stayed alone with those who always enjoyed her company. That explained why apart from her family, Emma had no issues staying with Mme Bella, their elderly neighbour: that woman had adored Emma to pieces. That could also explain why Emma had instantly accepted Adrien, a complete stranger to her back then: he was way too eager to spend time with his newfound daughter, and somehow, she felt it.

“That’s good,” Adrien interrupted her train of thought. “She won’t have to fight herself.”

“She would still benefit from combat training,” Master Fu countered. “No matter what miraculous they hold, all guardians need to muster some kind of self-defence art. For obvious reasons.”

Marinette agreed, looking at Adrien. “It only makes sense; wouldn’t you say so?”

He nodded in agreement before whispering, “Also, what exactly is going on with this song? I don’t remember Plagg singing me anything when we first met.”

“You can say they are strengthening a bond between Emma and Duusu,” Master Fu said observing the ceremony with a smile.

“I thought you said the bond was already there?” Marinette asked.

“The bond was there already,” Master Fu confirmed. “But unlike a wielder of a Miraculous, the Guardian needs a much deeper connection to his kwami right from the start.”

“What’ll happen if we decide that this isn’t for Emma?” Adrien questioned, worry in his eyes. “I had a hard time letting Plagg go as it was, but if Emma will have a much deeper connection to her kwami-”

“Don’t worry,” Master Fu assured. “Somehow I have a feeling that everything will work out just fine, but if it doesn’t, know that magical bonds forged by kwamis can be broken by them as well.”

“Memories will remain though, won’t they?”

“They can,” Master Fu nodded. “Though rare, but there were cases when the bond between a Guardian and their kwami had to be broken. Some remembered nothing, others had scattered bits of memories remaining. It all depends on how hard the person wants to remember or forget.”

Adrien swore under his breath, running his hands through his hair.

“It’ll be alright,” Marinette took his hand. “Let’s hope it won’t come to that.”

“Memories can hurt,” he replied. “Memories can ruin lives and make one miserable.”

“So does a lot of other stuff,” Marinette said, moving her hand up his arm and onto his shoulder, gently drawing circles on it to calm him. “We can’t protect her from getting hurt, Adrien, but we can help her get through it when something happens.”

“When? Not if?”

“You know it better than I do.” Marinette nodded with a sad smile on her lips and glanced at Emma. “But this can be the best experience of her life, just like it was for us. We can’t protect her forever, and she isn’t the type to enjoy monotonous living. She’ll be looking for her own troubles, so, won’t it be better for us to let her go a little now where we can look over her and help her out, instead of having her run away and be afraid to trust us when something worse happens?”

Adrien sighed, placing his palm on top of Marinette. “You’re right. In everything; especially regarding her ambitions. I mean she already designs clothes with Father at ten, what will it take to make her happy when she’s older?”

“This could be it,” Marinette smiled at him.

“It could.” Adrien nodded. “Still, so weird to think about, though. I wanted to be a normal kid at her age, but Emma-”

Plagg couldn’t hold in a grumble. “Your ‘normal’ life was boring, kid. Admit it, I brightened your days; only while being Chat Noir you really enjoyed your life.”

“Well, not exactly,” Adrien responded. “I enjoyed going to school and making my first real friends, and that’s considered a ‘normal’ kind of life.” Seeing as Plagg pouted, he added, “But yes, meeting you and being Chat Noir made everything a lot better.”

“See? I told you I don’t destroy everything I touch.” Plagg turned to Tikki.

“I never said you did.”

“I make everything better,” Plagg continued.

“That sentence is up for discussion,” Tikki mumbled.

“We all differ in our opinions on all kinds of matters,” Master Fu interfered. “Therefore, to uphold peace, we should focus on finding what we have in common and hold on to that.”

“Right,” Tikki nodded. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“I’m fine with anything as long as I get my cheese,” Plagg mumbled.

“Quills up!” a daring command suddenly zoomed across the room.

“Emma, wait,” Marinette and Tikki gasped in unison as a bright light enveloped the girl.

“My daughter,” Adrien proudly mirrored his kwami’s grin, his arms crossed over his chest.

When the glow settled they all held their breath. Emma’s outfit, gradually going from light turquoise at the top to royal blue around the waist and into black onto her feet, shimmered with all the shades of the rainbow. A mini skirt around her thighs was embellished with peacock feathers. Her hands, mirroring the feet, were clad in black gloves. A turquoise and white mask covered her face. Hair was gathered in a high ponytail a little to the side with the miraculous serving as a hair accessory at its root.

“So pretty,” Tikki whispered.

“Like father, like kid,” Plagg commented with a smirk. “I told you, Sugar Cube, that she would have a costume and a transformation routine ready to go.”

“That’s so cool!” Emma squealed looking herself over. “Mama, look! Daddy!” She spun around showing off her outfit. “I even have a fan,” she added, detaching the matching to her costume accessory from her waist at the back. “Can I try it out?”

“Emma-”

“You can,” Master Fun smiled. “But not now and not here, and not before Duusu will explain to you how it works.”

“All right,” Emma agreed, her obvious disappointment being too much for Tikki to handle.

“Maybe she can take a quick run around the Paris, Master?” the kwami suggested.

Master Fu thought for a short moment before shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t see why not? She must go out eventually. Why not now?”

Turning to Adrien and Marinette, he stretched out his hand, a ring and a pair of earrings in his palm. Adrien’s eyes widened. He picked up the ring and without hesitation put it on. Marinette followed his suite.

“Before we transform, I have a question,” Marinette asked, putting her earrings on. “Can you redesign my costume, Tikki? I noticed that the last Ladybug had a far more interesting outfit than me.”

Her kwami nodded. “I don’t design your costume, Marinette. I only look into your heart and mind and use whatever I see there. The only reason your costume was so plain is because you were scared and hesitant and reluctant when initially transforming.”

“In that case—” Adrien glanced at Plagg, “Can get an upgrade too?”

“Not a fan of giant bells anymore?” his kwami smirked.

“Not necessarily.” Adrien grinned, looking at Marinette. “But my wife happened to design a few Chat Noir outfits recently. Purely for fun, but there was one I believe she’d love to see me in.”

He winked. Marinette blushed. “You mean that one?”

Adrien grinned wider. Marinette’s lips trembled as she tried to pout while failing to suppress a smile. She turned to Plagg. “Whatever he’s thinking, but with a working zipper because someone—” she glanced at her husband, “—forgets that we’ll have a child with us.”

“Fair enough,” Adrien laughed and took a stance. “Plagg, claws out!”

There was nothing more liberating than to hit the roofs of Paris again as the tree of them raced to the Eiffel Tower. Wind in her hair, a familiar yo-yo in her hands, amplified strength in her muscles, Marinette couldn’t get enough of the thrill she’d stopped dreaming of ever experiencing again years ago. Although, running atop Parisian houses wasn’t as effortless as Marinette had remembered it: lack of practice and fitness she’d figured. Adrien, though, seems to be faring better despite having to carry Emma on his back, his regular workouts giving him a fair advantage.

“I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed this,” Marinette whispered once they’ve reached the top. She looked around and sat down, dangling her feet from the edge, just as they used to do during their patrols back in the days.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Adrien echoed, settling by her side.

“It’s so pretty,” Emma whispered tackled between them, her eyes wide opened as she tried to intake the view before her.

Marinette couldn’t help but smile seeing the awe written all over Emma’s face. She also couldn’t help but worry. Not because they gave it a go. No. Marinette was confident they’d made the right choice by agreeing to Master’s Fu proposal. However, a part of her wondered if it were their selfish desires that got the best of them in making that decision, not Emma’s best interests. A reassuring touch stirred her out of her reverie as Adrien lay his hand on her shoulder.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispered.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he smiled, leaning down to press his forehead to hers, a quiet rumble raising from his chest.

Marinette smiled, placing her hand to the source of the sound. “I missed your purring. It’s soothing.” She lingered for a few moments, indulging in calming, reassuring sound, before adding, “Maman and Papa will say we are crazy. So will Alya and Nino.”

“We can always not tell them.”

Marinette snickered. “I’d love to see you trying to keep this a secret from them. For one – they’ll figure us out pretty quickly, considering they all know about us being Chat Noir and Ladybug in the past. Two - we have to tell them because we need babysitters for Louis and Hugo when all three of us would like to do this. And three, if Louis and Hugo know and they will, it’s only a matter of time until Zoie knows, and you know that little firecracker: she’d spill the beans to her mother as soon as she would be able to.”

Adrien laughed. “Fair point. Then—” Adrien winked, “—do we tell my father as well?  You know, he’s always looking for an opportunity to have them over. That would come in handy when we need an emergency babysitter.”

Marinette shivered. “Please, don’t joke like that.”

Adrien laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not particularly longing to be murdered in my sleep for endangering the future of his company.”

Marinette didn’t answer, glaring at him. “You aren’t funny today, Agreste.”

“I’m quick, though,” Adrien smirked, standing up. Bringing Emma up with him, he asked, “Want to show off your new outfit to your Grandmama Sabine and Grandpapi Tom, Emma? I bet we can make it there faster than Mama.”

“Adrien?” Marinette’s eyes widened. “What are you thinking?”

“We have to pick up the kids from them anyway, right?” Adrien shrugged, Emma already climbing on his back, honouring their agreement that she would start her exploration slowly and under the constant care of either Marinette or Adrien, trying anything new only after their approval. “Come on, Mari,” Adrien smiled at her, getting ready to depart. “It’s almost eight; they’re expecting us. Last one to their house does the dishes.”

Marinette quirked an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, a smirk playing on her lips. She had always been faster than Chat Noir, and even out of practice she was confident in her abilities, especially since Adrien had to carry a ten-year-old on his back. He had no chances to win against her. She wasn’t sure if he even hoped to win for real or was it all just his usual banter - today was his turn to do dishes, anyway. In either case, the only question here was - should she show off or should she let him look more or less decent by allowing him to not lose by much?

Marinette closed her eyes and breathed in. The air was fresh, with a barely noticeable floral aroma hitting her nose. She listened to the noise of people and cars beneath her. The ambient sound calmed. Opening her eyes, she caught the colours of the sunset. It mesmerized. Tears welled in her eyes. It was nice to be back up here again. Incredibly nice. Such an unexpected turn of events. Just as surprising as a lot of things in her life were - their love, their child, his identity and their reunion. And now this. Something that’d change their life for the best. Something they’d cherish and protect and share. Marinette smiled to herself, zeroing in on her husband’s figure disappearing in the distance. A playful smirk split her lips as she took the yo-yo off her waist. The fire in her eyes ignited, and a moment later Ladybug headed off towards her husband, towards their children, towards her family and friends, towards more unexpected surprises with a battle cry, “Prepare to wash the dishes for a week, Chaton!”

That's it, guys. Hope you've enjoyed this little adventure just as much as I had. As always, a big shout-out to my betas @edendaphne and @kryallaorchid for helping me whip this story into shape, and I hope I'll see you reading my other stories. <3

Fun fact: an alternative title for this work, courtesy of one and only, magnificent @kryallaorchid - "Unexpected Surprise: One Cock to Rule Them All."

Also, please, note that there will be no sequels or additional one-shots for Unexpected Surprise, so, please, refrain from asking. I feel like this story is finished and wholesome the way it is now and doesn't need anything else. However, if it inspires you to write drabbles, by all means, please, do so and give me the link so I can enjoy it too.

Now, I'll be off attending to a bunch of my other amazing stories, awaiting me to write them.

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Unexpected Surprise - 13

Read it on A03, WattPad, FF.net

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A little past midnight New York City was more awake than Marinette had expected. Bursting with noise, the streets drowned in lights, displays and billboards, roads - plagued with cars, sidewalks - with people rushing about as an array of their voices filled the night. Life was buzzing around and seemingly no one was planning to retire for the day.

Marinette couldn’t either.

Somewhere across the ocean, Paris was waking up. Emma was probably already helping her grandfather bake a fresh bunch of croissants for the morning crowd. Her colleagues most likely were battling through the morning traffic on their way to work, soon to fill the offices of Gabriel and start creating. She, on the other hand, stood by the John F. Kennedy International Airport’s front door and looked around for a chauffeur that Nathalie had said would be waiting for her.

“Mlle Dupain-Cheng?” a man in a black suit and a picture in his hand approached her in a minute. When she nodded, he smiled. “Welcome to New York City. My name is Thomas and I’ll be your driver for this visit. Please, follow me.”

Taking her luggage, the man led Marinette to a black car parked nearby.

“Where to?” he asked her once they settled in, and Marinette couldn’t help but bite into her lip. Adrien was so close. She could practically feel him. Right there. In the same city as her. Once she arrived at her hotel, they’d be on the same street. Just a few buildings away and all she had to do to see his gorgeous, sleepy face was to tell Thomas Adrien’s address. So incredibly tempting…

“Here,” she sighed and passed him a card Nathalie had given her. As appealing as seeing Adrien right away was, that was something that Marinette had firmly decided not to do. First of all, she wanted to surprise him but that wasn’t the main reason for her decision. During the past few weeks, Adrien had constantly been exhausting himself day after day, trying to shorten his stay in NYC. When he wasn’t modelling, he was working in the office, and when he was done with that, he attended meetings he’d committed to. What little free time he had he spent chatting with her and Emma on their phones. He needed those few extra hours of sleep to function, and if she were to come around, she doubted there would be any sleep at all. Adrien was so close, but Marinette had already waited for weeks. Another few hours shouldn’t be a problem, especially because after a stressful day and a long time, she could use some rest as well.

The next morning, Marinette could hardly find it in herself to regret it. Check-In at an upscale hotel was almost effortless, and soon she was already peacefully snoozing in a king-sized bed. The heavy sun-blocking curtains ensured she hadn’t woken up until almost noon, but the much-needed rest had made an enormous difference. Marinette felt rested and uplifted. Gone were the fuzziness in her head and dark circles from under her eyes. A shower erased all the evidence of a long journey; breakfast renewed her physical strength. Marinette put on one of her best outfits - a knee-length dress, fitted at the top and flared at the bottom in a colour she knew Adrien would appreciate – Ladybug red. It was simple but sophisticated, subtly emphasizing her best features. A slightly messy lower bun hair-do and a few simple accessories, including a pair of her favourite sandals, and Marinette was ready to knock Adrien off his feet. The only obstacle between them remaining was a twenty-minute ride to the location of his photoshoot.

As a fashion designer, Marinette had frequently visited photoshoots. This particular one took place at a building similar to many in Paris. Nothing inside, apart from the language used, seemed to be really different from her usual experiences – people running around, carrying clothes, equipment, coffee cups and folders, models lingering sparingly here and there, make-up artists and seamstresses making last-minute adjustments. Nothing out of the ordinary for her. Nevertheless, Marinette felt like she was about to faint, hardly able to breathe as she walked the hallways. She persisted, ignoring the jitters relentlessly quivering in the pit of her stomach and soon reached her destination.

As usual, the lights were turned off on the perimeter of the room, with only the center being brightly lit. Marinette’s eyes darted there immediately in search of the one who enticed her. She thought she knew how much she’d missed him. At that very moment, she understood how wrong she was.

“Adrien!” A male voice speaking in French somewhere closer to the center of the room caught her attention. “Sensual. Do you know what that means, my boy? Look at me. Imagine I’m a hot, sexy girl, and you want me. Unleash your inner man. Where is that wild predator in you? You want to devour me, to take me away and kiss me senseless-”

Heartfelt laughter filled through the room and even Marinette giggled, watching an ageing man at the front trying to seduce the model she couldn’t see yet.

“Come on, Adrien!” the man continued. “I know you are at the end of your stick, but I need you to handle a few more shots for me. Okay? You want to go back to Paris at the end of the week, don’t you? So, work for it!”

“I’m sorry, Richard—” her heart skipped a bit at the sound of loved and very much missed voice sounding so close, “—but it’s kind of hard for me to think of you as a hot girl.”

“Okay, fine!” the man grumbled. “If I’m not sexy enough for you, do it for your other love - Lucia will cook you your favourite dish if you cooperate.”

The man lifted his camera and started to shoot. Marinette moved closer.

Just a few more steps.

Just one more…

There he was – standing in the middle of a lighted scene, clothed in all white Adrien seemed to glow. A few of his locks strayed away and fell onto his forehead, but it only made him look that much more handsome. Mischief played in his smile, echoed in the lights of his eyes as Adrien chuckled at a man in front of him and his hand reached out behind his neck in a painfully familiar gesture.

“Oh, come on,” the photographer frowned. “Don’t tell me that even my Lucia’s food doesn’t do it for you anymore.”

Adrien apologetically shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “Sorry.”

“Okay, fine! Then imagine that girl you won’t shut up about. What’s her name? Mary something?”

“Marinette. Her name-” Adrien shifted his sight to the side just as Marinette stepped into the light. Stopping in her place, she waved him hello. Barely breathing if any at all, Adrien froze, his eyes widened as he stared at her dumbfoundingly. Slowly, his lips melted into a soft smile, and without any words Adrien left his place to wrap her into his arms a moment later, his hold soft but firm as he pulled her to himself.

“Hi,” Marinette whispered into his chest, melting against him.

“Hi.” Adrien barely breathed out. He clutched her tighter for a few moments before leaning back a tiny bit. Lingering tears in his eyes, he let her name quietly slipped from his lips before capturing hers into a kiss. Everything around them - sounds, people, lights and colours - everything ceased to exist. Only them and only this moment and only their kiss. Just the feeling of finally being together. Their touch and the warmth of being close. Marinette couldn’t remember if she had ever felt so enraptured with only Adrien’s arms anchoring her to reality and keeping her standing on her feet as a single desire overwhelmed her mind – let this moment last forever; let her be in his arms for eternity; let him kiss her every second she had left. Let them never be apart again.

Drowning.

Yes, Marinette was drowning when Adrien pulled back to catch a breath.

“I was afraid it was just my imagination,” he whispered against her lips, slowly leaning his forehead forward to rest it against hers. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” Marinette whispered back before Adrien pulled her in again, capturing her lips once more. This time much gentler and softer. Much shorter also, because the man with that same French voice that was just ordering Adrien around a few moments ago intruded into their little bubble.

“And here I thought you were a lost cause, kid,” Richard loudly laughed, striking Adrien’s shoulder so hard, Marinette felt the impact on her body. The tremor brought her back to the reality, though, and with horror she realized that they weren’t as alone as it felt just a second ago - the lights were on them, people were shamelessly staring and echoes of excitement, clapping and whistles were going around the room. Adrien’s photographer was tapping on his shoulder and smiling widely at her. “He isn’t half bad, huh?” he winked. “May I assume that this is the legendary Marinette?”

“Legendary?”

“Of course,” the man laughed. “A person who could make our saint Adrien give up his chastity vows is bound to be a legend around here - partly a reality, partly a fairy tale.”

“Richard.” Adrien glared at the man, trying to sound annoyed but failing to suppress a smile. He pulled Marinette closer to himself, protectively shielding her on his chest. “I’m no saint and have told you a million times Marinette’s real.”

“I suppose then your little daughter isn’t fake as well?”

A chuckle and a puff of air escaped Marinette as Adrien frowned at the photographer. “We aren’t doing this again, and I’ll take a ten-minute break if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, but I do mind.” Richard’s mouth slowly spread into a grin. “Excuse me, Mlle Marinette, but this is a golden opportunity for me and as a highly qualified professional I simply cannot afford to miss it. Adrien—” he turned to face the young man. “—back on the stage. Now.”

“What? No!” Adrien protested. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll do everything you want.”

“Nah-nah,” Richard shook his head. “On the stage now or I’m cancelling the shoot because obviously ten minutes won’t be enough for you and after those ten minutes you, most likely, will be in no shape for modelling so there won’t be any point in continuing, not to mention there would probably be marks and we would have to redo the make-up, and, as a result, you’ll be stuck here for an extra day- oh wait- an extra week because I won’t have an opening to redo this shit until the following Friday.” Richard stopped, inhaled and slyly smiled. “Your choice, kid.”

Adrien tensed, a low growl rumbling through his chest as he tightened his arms around Marinette.

“Should I count or will you obey willingly?”

Marinette felt Adrien go slack against her as he murmured something into the crook of her neck.

“That’s okay, Adrien,” she whispered back. “I’ll be here waiting for you.”

Hesitantly, Adrien sighed an apology and a promise to be done as soon as he could before placing another kiss on her cheek and letting go. Glaring at Richard, he shuffled back to the scene of the photo shoot.

“I’m really sorry to cut you reunion short, Mlle Marinette,” Richard said quietly, escorting her up front right after Adrien and showing her to a chair. “But desperate times call for desperate measures, and I’m a desperate man in a desperate need of your heavenly-sent assistance. Would you mind helping me a little?”

“Not at all. What can I do?”

“Not much at all. Just sit here, be fabulous and look at that idiot over there—” Richard pointed to Adrien, “—in such a way that he would lose his mind and drool all over that floor. Can you manage that for me?”

“I can certainly try,” Marinette glanced back at Adrien and his misery-stricken face. “Not sure how effective my help would be, though.”

“Oh, believe me,” Richard chuckled. “From what I’ve seen and know about him just your presence will do miracles, and miracles are precisely what we need right now. Just sit back, relax and enjoy.”

“Alright,” Marinette nodded and settled in, putting one of her legs over the other.

“Perfect.” Richard’s smile vanished as soon as he turned back to Adrien. “Let’s continue, people. Break’s over.”

The next hour or so she would never forget. Overly polite towards her, Richard’s compliments for Marinette didn't cease as he was continually assuring her that she was immensely helping everyone. He also, depending on where he wanted Adrien to look, kept moving Marinette around the room all while mercilessly teasing the hell out of the model, shamelessly using his affection for her to his advantage.

“Look at her, Adrien,” he would croon. “Look at your woman. So beautiful. So gorgeous. So close, yet so far. Just look. She is all dolled up for you. For you, Adrien. All you have to do is to give me what I want and you can have her. And I want to see a desire in your eyes, Adrien. Yes! Just like that. Good. Desire and desperation, all in the same gaze. Nice! Now, let's move Mlle Marinette over there. Yup. Perfect. Now, Adrien, I need you-”

After the initial, short-lived resentment and a pouting period, Adrien fought back, bantering with Richard just as much as the man did with him, their chat – if you could call it that – soon resembling more a playful quarrel between a pair of old friends than a professional conversation between a photographer and his model.

Much to Marinette’s surprise, Adrien seemed to be enjoying the whole thing just as much Richard. Not only did he play along with his teasing and demands, but Adrien made sure to model so excessively dramatic that even Marinette wanted to dump a bucket of cold water over his head, mostly because she was the one on the receiving end of his antics. Teasing glances, playful winks, longing looks and sighs, seductive poses and knowing smirks - Marinette had to repeatedly remind herself that as a grown woman she should be able to keep her jaw off the floor and her drooling in control. Jumping his bones right there and then wasn’t a viable option either.

However, the attention that Adrien and Richard were lavishing her with wasn’t the only benefit Marinette was getting. As weird as it sounded, but during that photoshoot she was being reacquainted with Adrien all over again, and that was way more important to her than any flirting ever could; because regardless of what Marinette had told her parents, she was thinking about their relationship seriously, and she wanted to get to know this new Adrien better before committing to anything serious. This trip seemed like the perfect opportunity for that, mainly because the only “instructions” Gabriel had given her in that letter were to remain by his son's side and see to his emotional and physical well-being… just worded in a much more official language. This photoshoot provided her with the first opportunity to glimpse into this new Adrien in a situation familiar to him with people who, judging by their interaction, knew him very well.

So far, Marinette loved what she saw – Adrien was just as fun, kind, generous and sweet as she had remembered him. She clearly saw her partner Chat Noir. Her former classmate and friend Adrien Agreste was there as well. There were a lot of familiar qualities in this man, but there was also something new, something she'd have to explore later-

“That was an absolute pleasure, Mlle Marinette,” Richard’s voice cut through her train of thought. “You may not realize it, but you’ve saved us all today.” Dramatically, he bowed down before her and taking her hand placed a kiss on the top of her hand. “I’m simply obliged now to repay you somehow-”

“I wonder what Lucia will say about that.” Adrien chuckled, coming closer.

“She would wholly agree with me,” Richard retorted. “You were insufferable today, Adrien. In fact, you were absolutely useless for the last couple of shoots. I was asking for longing, desire, sensuality and what were you handling me? Sadness. Misery. Impatience to get out of the studio! If not for Mlle Marinette appearance, we’d all be stuck here for who knows how long. We absolutely must thank her somehow. She just shortened our work day by a few hours at least.”

“In that case, I’ll think of something,” Adrien said, hugging Marinette from behind and placing his chin on her shoulder. Tilting his head slightly, he kissed her earlobe and with his eyes half-lidded and focused on her added. “I know of a few things she likes. Right, Princess?”

“Geez.” Richard made a face and shooed Adrien away. “I’m too old and prudish for this stuff, boy. Go turn back into a pumpkin and we’ll see if she still wants you then.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m a gorgeous pumpkin, and Marinette loves me even in my pumpkin shape,” Adrien teased but obeyed. He quickly planted another kiss on Marinette and walked away, promising to be back soon.

“I apologize, I might appear a little rude at times, but that kid is such a doofus I can't talk to him normally,” Richard chuckled. “We love him anyway, Lucia and I. Oh—” he settled in a nearby chair and faced Marinette. “Speaking of doofuses, I have the most amazing collection of Adrien’s super-secret Model Mishaps pictures. Want to see?”

Eagerly, Marinette nodded and for the next ten- or fifteen-minutes Richard proudly showcased Adrien’s less than graceful moments on his laptop that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Adrien’s sneezing, Adrien’s making faces, eyes-half-open Adrien, slack-mouthed Adrien, pouting and grumbling Adrien - there seemed to be no bounds to the awful shoots of Adrien this man had been about to capture. He even sent Marinette a few of her favourites for her newly-formed, proposed by Richard, “Blackmail Adrien” folder.

Most of the pictures weren’t made at a studio, though and quite a few featured a young man and a woman about their age.

“Ed and Sofie,” Richard proudly explained. “My kids, your doofus’ unofficial siblings. You are a bit of a legend to them, Mlle Marinette. Heck, you are to all of us because any girl who could finally manage to capture our Adrien’s heart and make him happy would-”

“Why do I feel like I need to save my Princess from a dragon who would soon bore her to death with his tales?” Adrien interfered, coming up from behind, protectively wrapping his arms around Marinette and kissing the top of her hair. “Has he told you his whole life story yet?”

“Is that what you think about me?” the man chuckled. “For your information, I focused only on embarrassing you this time.”

“Uh-oh,” Adrien faked the scare. “Then I guess, I’ll be stealing Marinette away from you right about now before you scare her away from me.” He reached for Marinette’s hand, walking over to her side. “Shall we go, my Lady?”

“Of course,” Marinette smiled, standing up. “It was a pleasure meeting you, M François.”

“Call me Richard and the pleasure is all my, Mlle Marinette.” The man smiled at her and turned to Adrien. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, kid, right? The last shoot.”

“Yes, I’ll be there.”

“If Mademoiselle is still around, don’t forget to bring her,” Richard winked at Adrien. “We might save ourselves a few hours again.”

“I’ll be staying until the end of the week,” Marinette answered. “I’d love to see another of Adrien’s photoshoots.”

“Then you also absolutely must come with Adrien to our house on Friday,” Richard said with poorly-hidden eagerness just as Adrien seemed to tense by her side. “We’re throwing him a ‘Farewell, Bon Voyage’ party.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Adrien murmured.

“C’ mon.” Richard laughed. “We’ll behave. I promise.” Turning his attention to Marinette he added, “My family would be absolutely delighted to meet you, Mlle Marinette. Don’t listen to this kid - we might be loud and lack filter at times, but we have fun and don’t bite. Do come to the party. We’d love to have you with us.”

“I’d be honoured to attend,” Marinette replied with a smile. “Thank you.”

Adrien sighed but couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, now, if you don’t mind, Richard-”

“Of course, of course.” Richard nodded. “Go away already and enjoy your day, kid, but, Adrien?” he waited until the blond model looked at him and only then whispered, “No marks, please, or at least reserve them for the places I can’t see.”

Her cheeks flooding with crimson, Marinette barely suppressed a squeak, while Adrien quite calmly replied with a smug look on his face. “I’ve been saving you that trouble for long six years, Richard. I think I deserve for you to finally put all of those make-up artists to work. See you Wednesday. Say hello to Lucia for me.”

“Will do,” the man responded with a proud smile. “By the way, I suggest you take the back stairs and sprint as fast as you can away from here.”

“Oh, why is that?”

“Well, if you must know - the internet broke about an hour ago when someone tweeted your PDA moment from earlier. I’m pretty sure there a few paparazzi downstairs already, eager to get a glimpse of the mysterious woman who has finally conquered your cold, bachelor heart, Agreste. The images trending are blurry, so if you want to save Mlle Marinette some trouble, I suggest to hurry and make your escape through the back exit.”

Adrien swore under his breath and narrowed his eyes on Richard immediately. “You wouldn’t.”

“I totally would.” Richard laughed. “But I’d wait until I get the HD versions from my camera. Why would I publicly tweet blurry blobs, Adrien? I’m a professional; I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Ugh,” Adrien groaned. “Why did you even take pictures of that? Can’t a man kiss a woman in peace without everyone going crazy and breaking the internet over it?”

“I’m a photographer-” Richard shrugged, “-taking pictures is my first instinct, and yeah, a man maybe can kiss whoever he wants, all he wants, in all the peace he wants. You, unfortunately, can’t. Not in NYC, at least.”

“I am a man. Why can’t I?”

“You are a somewhat decent-looking saint bachelor from a famous family and with a fortune in your pocket who somehow managed to remain single for years at the time when other people of your age dated the heck out of everyone, got married and had kids in the city that never sleeps. Your head has had a bounty on it for a long while now, Adrien, so no, there was absolutely no way for you to kiss anyone in a middle of a room filled with people and cameras and avoid the consequences.”

“I hate it when you are right,” Adrien blurted with a pout. “At least do me a favour and don’t post your HD pictures until we are back in France?”

“That I can do,” Richard nodded. “Now go - save your princess.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Adrien replied and quickly led Marinette out of the room. They found the staircase and headed downstairs, Adrien continuingly murmuring scattered apologies along the way. “I’m so sorry, Marinette. The paparazzi are horrible here.”

“I see we’ve come back to keeping our identities a secret. Just like good, old days. Please, don’t tell me I have to wear a paper bag over my head every time I step outside.”

“No,” Adrien laughed. “It’s not that serious. I just want you to enjoy your visit without a crowd following you around, and that’ll be hard to do if they would know who you are and how much I love you.”

“Then I guess I’d better stay by your side at all times,” Marinette replied squeezing his hand. “You’ll protect me like you always did, won’t you?”

“With pleasure, My Lady,” Adrien purred, stopping as they reached the bottom of the stairs. His eyes lingered on her for a few moments as he lifted her hand and barely brush his lips against her knuckles before opening the door they were standing by and letting her go in first. “After you, my Lady.”

“He’s quite a character,” Marinette remarked, walking into an underground garage full of cars. “Your photographer.”

“Richard?” Adrien chuckled, one of the warmest smiles Marinette had ever seen on his face, as he continued to lead her forward. “Yeah, he is quite a character - arrogant and annoying, but with a heart of gold and the most caring soul out there. Except maybe for his wife? She is the sweetest lady in the universe- when you aren’t crossing her.”

“You seem to like them a lot.”

“They’ve basically adopted me almost from the start so yeah, I do like them, especially since Richard reminds me of Plagg so much.”

“Your kwami?”

Adrien nodded. “The only difference is that Plagg had a tail and was a Camembert glutton. Richard lacks an extra appendage and is just a glutton. Period. With all the food he eats I have no idea how he manages to keep his weight under control.” They both chuckled and Adrien added, “But enough about me – why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Not that I’m not glad because I am- I’m so, so happy to see you, but I could’ve prepared, you know, picked you up at the airport and-”

Marinette laughed. “I found out I was coming myself just yesterday morning so I thought I’d surprise you, give you a heart attack or two.”

“And here I was worrying sick you weren’t picking up my morning calls.”

“I am surprised Emma didn’t spill the secret.”

“Hm,” Adrien concentrated thinking. “She did seem anxious and jumpy today, but I assumed that’s because she was staying over at your parents’ and was excited about all the pastries available there.”

They soon reached his car - a black Mercedes of some kind that looked absolutely amazing.

“Nice car,” Marinette noted.

“It does the job,” Adrien shrugged, opening the door for her. “By the way, where are your things?” he added settling in the driver’s seat.

“At my hotel room.”

“What do you mean in your hotel room?” Adrien frowned. “You aren’t staying with me?”

“I don’t know,” Marinette cocked her head to a side. “Your father booked me a really nice suite at an upscale hotel and since I didn't receive any other options, the choice was rather obvious.”

“Not fair,” Adrien pouted. “As I said - I didn’t know you were coming, but-” he leaned closer and whispered. “I can always steal you away and imprison you in my castle for my own selfish pleasures.”

“Oh no!” Marinette fake-gasped. “So scandalous! Much evil! What shall I do?”

“Enjoy my hospitality, my Lady.” Adrien chuckled, bringing her hand to his lips once again for a kiss on the inside of her wrist. “My place is much better anyway than anything my father would have gotten you. It even has a name I think you’d like.”

“Really?” Marinette tilted her head to a side. “Do tell.”

“‘Chat Noir’s Lair’,” he grinned.

“Hm.” Marinette made a show of thinking hard. “The name does sound intriguing.”

“Wanna see it?”

She paused for a few moments just to tease him. “Maybe? A look wouldn’t hurt, now would it?”

Adrien placed another kiss on her fingers, not taking his eyes off her. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”

“I see you are working hard on convincing me. Must be a really great place.”

Gently, he threaded their fingers together. “It’ll be even more amazing with you in it. Now tell me which hotel are you at so we can pick up your stuff.”

Pulling away, Marinette rumbled through her purse and showed him her hotel access card.

“I see Father spared no expense. Admirable. I’ll need to thank him.”

“I was told it’s on the same street as your place?”

“Yup,” Adrien responded, starting up the car. “Practically next door.” He was about to depart but then paused, stared ahead for a moment before turning to Marinette and whispering with the reverent look on his face. “I still can’t believe you are here. It’s like a dream come true.”

Marinette giggled. “I hope that’s a good dream?”

“The best.” Adrien grinned, shifting to Drive. “The very best one.”

They easily escaped the paparazzi camping outside the front door of Richard’s Studio, and no one was there at Marinette’s hotel. A couple of photographers spotted them at Adrien's apartment complex as they were driving into the underground garage, but being warned beforehand, Marinette covered her face, turning away. Their trip took a little over an hour altogether – a bit longer than expected due to heavy traffic – but to them it felt like a short while as neither seemed to be having enough of each other’s company, carelessly chatting about everything and nothing in particular. A few times, Marinette had caught herself back in her teen days, as she blushed and stuttered under his heavy flirting, and, opening the door to his apartment, Adrien had never before resembled such an overly excited puppy to her as now.

“Welcome to the ‘Chat Noir’s Lair’, my Lady,” he proclaimed, bowing down and letting her in first. At first glance, the apartment screamed wealth and looked like it belonged on a cover of an interior design magazine – pristine, spacious, two-tier, featuring ceiling to wall windows and decorated with a minimalist style in mind. The living room contained a few couches, a large TV in a wall unit and a couple of side tables. She noticed a large dining table around the corner and sneaked a peak of the kitchen to her left, both looking absolutely amazing. But, despite the bare minimum and clear-cut lines of the design, the place somehow felt homely and cozy. Lived-in even. A few live plants might have helped with that. Fluffy throws and pillows on the couches and a soft carpet on the floor. Photos and art on the walls. Little details here and there softened the look and gave the room warmth. Marinette couldn’t help but comment on that.

“My father hired a designer to decorate it,” Adrien explained. “But I didn’t really like what he’d done with the place. It felt cold and bare, so since I was the one spending most of the time here, I brought in a few accessories to make it comfier.”

“You definitely succeeded, Chaton.”

“Thank you, My Lady. Now let me show you around.”

He barely waited for Marinette to remove her shoes before taking her by the hand and pulling her into the living room.

“As you can see,” Adrien began the tour. “'The Chat Noir’s Lair' is offering a spacious living room, a high-end kitchen and a separate dining room, three washrooms, an office, a workout room and a balcony-”

The next few minutes Adrien was trying his hardest to impress Marinette with his home. He showed off the best features and offered to try things out. He sat her down on the couches and dining chairs so she would be assured that they were soft and comfortable. He pointed out that plants were watered and his fridge well stocked. The fact that appliances looked as if they were used daily Marinette noticed herself. Adrien proudly displayed his office’s built-in library. His gym inspired workouts just by peeking inside. The view from the balcony was mesmerizing.

“I should let you redecorate my house,” she concluded when they exited the last room on the first level. “You’re good at it.”

“Thank you,” Adrien grinned. “With your permission, I'm looking forward to decorating our house as well, but for now - allow me to show you to your room.”

A trip up the stairs revealed that the whole second level of the apartment was dedicated to a single room which looked suspiciously like a master bedroom. It seemed less designer-y and more Adrien than the rest of the apartment. One of the walls was made entirely of glass windows, reminding her of his home in Paris. The only difference was the sheer curtains Adrien incorporated that diminished the “prison” effect and made the whole room seemed softer. A huge bed in the middle with nightstands beside it and a bed bench at the end. Soft carpeting under her feet and a couple of doors leading to his bathroom and a closet. It was simple and cozy, something that Marinette would’ve loved to call her own.

“Um, Adrien? Isn’t this your room?”

“And now it’s yours too,” Adrien replied. “Comes complete with a top-quality king bed, four-piece en-suite with a separate shower and a bathtub, a walk-in closet and a free cuddler, body warmer and personal butler as a bonus.”

“Oh? And where is that cuddler, body warmer and personal butler of yours?”

“You’re looking at him.” Adrien bowed with a smile on his lips. “I’m at your service, my Lady.”

Marinette chuckled, scrunched her nose and teased, clasping her arms behind her back. “I don’t know. This room maybe looks better than the one in my hotel suite, but nothing can rival the bed in there. It was one of the best I’ve ever-”

“You doubt the comfort of my bed?” Adrien fake gasped and sweeping Marinette of her feet into his arms, added, “Then I guess I have no choice but to prove you wrong, my Lady.” Quickly but gently he brought Marinette over and laid her on the bed, instantly settling by her side. “So?” Adrien carefully brushed away Marinette’s hair from her forehead. “How does it feel?”

Turning to face him, Marinette said, “It certainly does feel comfy, but something is missing.”

“I apologize.” Adrien gently cupped her cheek and pulled her closer. “Where are my manners and hospitality?” His lips touched hers in the gentlest of a kiss. “How is it now? Better?”

“A little,” Marinette whispered.

“Then I should add more services,” Adrien smiled and kissed her cheek. He moved to the forehead, then her nose, another cheek and lips again, peppering her whole face with light butterfly kisses, asking every time if Marinette liked his bedroom better than the hotel one. There was not a spot left un-kissed at least twice or trice on her face when Marinette finally gave in and kissed Adrien back.

“Alright,” she said pulling away. “You’ve convinced me.” Her sight fell on a nightstand behind Adrien and she smiled mischievously. “After all, how can I refuse to stay in the room that has my baby, my roommate, and my photo by its bed.”

“Is that I am all to you?” Adrien tried to fake gasped but his voice was quiet and his eyes worried. Marinette’s breath hitched. They agreed to take it slow and to think carefully before diving in deeper, and she was trying to follow that. Marinette was thinking about it but the more she did, the less she wanted to take it slow.

“Well, maybe also a friend?” she added hesitantly.

“We definitely do stuff that friends don’t do,” Adrien replied. “I have a kid and you in my arms at this very moment to prove my point.”

He was right – neither of them was able to keep their hands off each other ever since they reconnected despite all the agreements to take it slow. Neither complained or wanted to stop.

“Unless you mean friends with benefits,” Adrien added with a frown. “But I don’t think I’d like that very much.”

“Hm, why not?”

“It doesn’t reflect the truth about my feelings to you,” he said, brushing her hair gently. “While you are my friend, it isn’t just the benefits I want from you or what I'm willing to give back. I want so much more and I’m ready to give you my all.”

Marinette nibbled at her lip. She wanted more as well. She yearned for it, but she couldn't just blindly jump in now. She had Emma to consider.

Emma…?

Marinette’s eyes widened as a thought hit her. One of the biggest reasons she was holding off all this time was to protect Emma if anything were to go wrong with her relationship but- but Adrien wasn't just someone pretending to the role of Emma's father to get to Marinette and who could walk out of their lives at any moment if anything were to go awry between them. He was Emma’s father and that wasn’t something anyone could change. Adrien promised that no matter what he would remain in Emma’s life; even if they didn’t work out, he swore he would be there for Emma, and Marinette believed him. From what little interaction they’d had, she could clearly see how much he already loved Emma and her little girl reciprocated his affection. Of course, there were always risks, but nothing major as Marinette was afraid of until now. It was Adrien after all - the kindest and the most loyal man she'd ever known.

Then what was it? What was holding her back? Why while she wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms the minute they discuss labels she would hesitate? She knew she couldn’t care less for the opinions of others on the matter. Then what? Her own insecurities? Her fear to make it official and spoil everything again? The last time it didn't go well for her, but the last time there were, as she thought, two men. Now there was only him.

Closing her eyes, Marinette inhaled and tried to think rationally. Yes, based on her experience, she was afraid, but the time had passed and she’d learned from her mistakes. She liked to believe she’d matured and Adrien seemed to as well – the way he’d dealt with their little arguments back in Paris was the proof of that. He didn’t run at the slightest disagreement anymore but stayed and they’d talked and resolved the issue. He was still her loyal partner; he was still her kind friend. He was still the man she was deeply in love with, but from what she could already see, he was also a changed man, changed for the better. So maybe, just maybe they could make it work this time?

“Hey,” Adrien reached to lift her chin to him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. If it’s not something you want to discuss now, we could always do this later. I don’t even know why it came up,” he nervously chuckled. “Do you want to eat something? I can go make us something really quick-”

“Adrien?” Marinette caught his face in her hands, cupping his cheeks before he could escape, and locked her eyes on him. His eyes… His eyes were full of love and reverence and kindness and worry, and for a moment Marinette forgot why she was afraid in the first place. He was her Adrien. Scooting closer, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest.

“Do you want to know what I was secretly afraid would happen once I’ve arrived here?” she murmured against his rapidly beating heart as he returned her embrace.

“Being eaten by a Godzilla?”

Marinette chuckled. He was always a dork. “Nope. Something even worse.”

“What could be worse than being eaten alive by Godzilla?”

“Being left at a hotel? Or being shown the guest room?”

“Oh.” She could feel Adrien tense, his arms around her tightening.

“Adrien, if you don’t want to be just roommates or friends with benefits, what do you want us to be?”

He remained silent for a few moments before asking quietly. “Do you want me to answer that honestly or do you want me to tell you what I think you’re ready to hear?”

“I want your honesty even if I might not be ready for it yet.”

“Alright,” Adrien replied, his hand starting to gently draw circles on her back. “I've never wanted to be ‘co-parenting roommates' in the first place unless that was the best I could get.”

“Hey, wasn’t you who offered it?” Marinette poked his chest with a finger.

“I did,” Adrien chuckled “But again only because I thought that was the best I could get at the time.”

“What about now?”

“Now, as you can see I’m already challenging that label.”

“So you think you can get something better now?”

“I think,” he pulled away just enough to gently kiss her lips. “I think I’m getting more already. Just need to make it official.”

“Fair enough.”

“But getting back to your original question,” Adrien continued after sliding down so he could look at Marinette face to face. “It’s rather simple - I want to be with you. I want to wake up to your cuddling ceremony and prepare you breakfast. I want to spend my evenings with you and fall asleep in your arms. I want my daily missions to be supporting you in your struggles and share your victories. I want you in mine. I want to see our daughter grow up together and I might have been wondering what it would be like having more children with you eventually. I want a family and a home, Marinette, somewhere where you’ll be waiting for me.” He stopped for a second to catch his breath. “I just want to be with you and not to worry about the labels.”  

“Adrien-” Marinette’s voice was failing as tears started to gather in her eyes.

“If it were up to me,” he continued. “I’d marry you here and now because what is a marriage, Marinette? It’s a commitment, right?”

Marinette nodded but remained silent so Adrien could continue. “And I had committed myself to you a long time ago. That’s the only label I care about – ‘Committed to my Princess’. Marinette, I’ve been in love with you for more than ten years now, my feelings and my desire to marry you survived a six-year exile and I don’t see a reason why we should wait anymore. However, I do realize that others might not understand and judge us and say we are rushing things and that you might have your own thoughts on the matter and your own pace. So as long as I’m allowed to be by your side, I don’t care what label we use. I’ll leave it up to you to choose. Your pace. Your timing. Your choice of label.”

“What if in those six years, I’ve changed and you won’t like me anymore?”

Adrien puffed. “Please, my Lady. I saw you at your worst. I think I can manage whatever surprises you have in store for me. Plus, from what I’ve seen so far, I can assume already that you’ve changed for the better. You’re more mature now, you’re open to communication and you are infinitely more gorgeous-” His eyes widened at a realization of this own words. “Not that you weren't gorgeous before- you were- but now even more so-”

Marinette laughed. “Don’t worry, Chaton. I get it. You’ve grown up quite nicely yourself.”

“Thank you, my Lady. I’m flattered.”

“Can I be honest too then?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want anything else.”

“I do understand what you are saying, and I do agree that we've lost enough time and I do want to be with you so badly, Adrien but-” she paused nibbling at her lower lip. “I’ll be honest – I don’t think I’m ready for marriage yet. I’m still anxious and unsure about this whole thing, and it’s just- Ugh. I just need a little bit more time to get used to this. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Adrien smiled at her. “I know. That’s why I’m not proposing to you yet, so don’t worry about that now.” Adrien leaned in for another lingering kiss, holding her close. “And when I do propose to you, promise me to answer honestly? Even if that would be a ‘No’, or a ‘Not yet’? I won’t die. I’ll step back and wait and try again later. Okay?”

“Okay.” Marinette nodded.

“And if at some point, you ever end up not wanting me at all, please, tell me. I’ll respect your wish and will step away and remain there as Emma’s father and your friend only. Promise me?”

It took Marinette a few seconds to reply. She had never realized how well Adrien understood her. She wanted more, and she wanted it desperately, but just as she'd hesitated to accept her miraculous a while back, she was anxious to accept him now. She needed to take it one step at a time, no matter how short-lived they were and how hard she wanted to just get it over with and say “Yes”. His understanding and acceptance meant the world.

“Alright.” She nodded. “But for now, may I suggest for us to be another kind of friends?” Marinette reached out and settling her hand at the nape of his neck, fiddled with his hair. “You’re my friend but you are also happened to be a boy, so since you’re a boy and a friend, how does a “boyfriend” sound?”

Instantly Adrien grinned. “And may I assume that since you a girl and a friend I can call you my girlfriend?”

“Absolutely.”

“With everything it entitles me to?”

“Yup.”

“We still get to live together, though, right?”

“If you still want that.”

“More than anything,” Adrien whispered and leaned over to kiss her. “Can I do this and not worry about crossing any boundaries?”

“Of course.”

“How about this?” He left a trail of delicate kisses on her neck.

“You’d better.” Marinette swallowed, her breath hitching in her chest. “As often as you’d like.”

“What if I would want to worship your whole body?” he breathed against her collarbone, his hand already roaming around her stomach.

“I won’t stand in your way,” Marinette replied barely audible, letting a moan slip when Adrien gently sucked at her skin.

“I might need to remove your dress for that,” he whispered against the swell of her breasts, nuzzling the hem of her dress’ neckline.

“Alright,” Marinette smirked, sliding her hand down his chest. “But only if I get to watch you remove your clothes slowly moving in time with the music.”

Pulling back, Adrien looked at her with his eyes wide.

Marinette laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m joking.”

He blinked.

Marinette leaned closer to him and whispered, “Or am I?”

Adrien swallowed, blush rapidly covering his face. “I-”

She erupted with a fit of giggles before pulling him to her and pecking his lips. “I’m joking, Adrien, but if you do plan to get me naked, you’d better follow suit and lose your clothes as well.”

“Oh, absolutely,” He suddenly purred, grinning. “It’s rather hot here anyway. We should undress, and I might just have the perfect playlist in mind for that.” Suddenly he stilled, remembering something. Closing his eyes, Adrien added apologetically, “I must confess, though - since you’re the only one I’ve ever been interested in, I’ve never kept “stuff” on hand, and I didn't expect you here tonight, so I’m not exactly prepared for-”

Marinette silenced him with her finger to his lips. “Then it’s good that I brought you a present. You might want to get it now, though. Pink suitcase, side pocket on the inside.”

Adrien grinned. “Looks like someone had a plan.”

“Someone missed you more than you can imagine.”

“I missed you too,” Adrien whispered, kissing her cheek. “And I love you so much.” His lips brushed her ear. “Thank you for giving me a chance, Marinette. You won’t regret it. I promise.”

Leaning down, he captured her lips. Kissing her slowly and gently, Adrien whispered the words of love, lavishing every inch of her body with his affection. Fingers and lips desperately dancing against her skin and, her head spinning, Marinette was blissfully drowning under his touch, his gentle caresses on every inch of her skin. She felt burning, completely and utterly enthralled in the fire he’d ignited, cool air providing little relief even after her dress was dealt with.

She needed more.

Marinette yearned for all of him; those few minutes that Adrien was gone picking up his present felt longer than weeks she’d waited for him in Paris. There was little doubt in her mind when he resumed his ministrations - she belonged with him, Marinette belonged in Adrien’s arms, they were meant to walk this life together, side by his side, supporting, accepting and making each other happy. They were meant to be.

Next >

Please note: English is a strange and wonderful language where many words have multiple meanings and slang can change depending on your country of origin. It is my third language so while I will do my very best, there may be mistakes made along the way.

[everlastingcaptainswan]

Since We’re Alone (10/?)

Celebrity fake dating AU 

Summary: Killian Jones punched another bouncer in the face and Emma Swan threatened the paparazzi who got too close to her. With both their reputations at risk their managers pull together a deal that sure to gain them better press coverage. Who can resist watching two attractive people fall in love? 

Notes: Hey all! I know it's been awhile since I posted an update, but my inspiration for this story has finally returned! Hope you guys like it.

Ao3       FF 

Chapter 10: The Brother 

Killian hates the fact that he has to get on the plane, but he is cutting it close as it is and if he didn’t make this plane Regina would surely kill him. The band has more promotion for the album and rehearsals for the tour to do, which he has to absolutely be there for. He hates leaving Emma. They worked it out and are in a better place now, but it doesn’t mean he will miss her any less.

Killian sleeps for most of this flight because he has to head straight to Regina and Robin’s house once he lands. When he gets there Robin answers the door and gives him an expectant look.

“Well?” Robin asks.

“Well what?” Killian asks, egging on his friend.

“You bloody well know what! You ran off after an interview to see Emma in Paris to win her back,” Robin says raising his voice. Killian just laughs.

“My god Rob, you can’t take teasing anymore huh?” Killian says as he walks in and Robin shuts the door behind him. His friend just glares at him waiting for an answer.

“We made up. It was a big misunderstanding in which we both apologized. Everything’s good,” Killian tells him and Robin pats him on the back.

“Good, I hope you’re ready to work,” Regina says entering the room, “You’ve got a tour to rehearse for.”

“That we do. Robin, is Will here, yet?” Killian asks, ignoring Regina altogether. Robin shakes his head.

“Killian, you’re going to have to talk to me someday,” Regina says in a huff.

“Tell your wife that when she apologizes to Emma I’ll speak to her again. Now, we have work to do, I’ll be in the studio for whenever Scarlet decides to grace us with his presence,” Killian calls out as he walks away from the married couple. Regina gives Robin an exacerbated look.

“Will you please talk to him?” Regina asks.

“I have and he’s firm on this point,” Robin shakes his head, before kissing his wife on the cheek and following Killian. Regina turns on her heel stomping back into her office before slamming her office door.

“Killian,” Robin sighs when he catches up to him.

“Don’t Killian me. Look, I get she’s your wife and you’re trying to help, but she hurt the woman I love and almost wrecked our relationship. I’m asking for an apology, which you know isn’t a crazy demand.” Robin just blinks at Killian.

“Does Emma know?”

“Does she know what?” Killian asks as his temper fades and confusion takes its place.

“That you love her,” Robin says calmly. A slight blush crosses Killian’s cheeks.

“Aye, she does,” he scratches his ear and Robin just smirks.

“Good for you mate.” Not long after Will finally shows up, earning a fair amount of shit from Killian about his tardiness. Will starts to dish it back when Robin stops him.

“Don’t be too hard on Killian the woman he loves is across the ocean,” Robin teases Killian, who rolls his eyes.

“You’re a nosey lot. I never should I have told this gossip anything,” Killian grumbles, nodding towards Robin.

“Ah so you’ve admitted it then?” Will asks and Killian nods, “Good, it was getting hard to watch you try and cover up the fact you’re in love with her.”

“You knew?” Killian asks them.

“We all knew,” Robin comments and Will just rolls his eyes. Killian just shakes his head in wonder before they set off to work. Through the next two weeks the band worked hard through rehearsals. The band had finally finished up all the promotion for the album. Killian woke early and went to bed late nearly every day. Between the time change and their hectic schedules Emma and Killian had little time to talk. It seemed as though the couple was caught in a game of phone tag. They had to stay in touch primarily through text, which Emma wasn’t fond of because she missed the sound of his voice, but it was all they could seem to manage. Although Emma does get a rather exciting and seductive voicemail from Killian when she sends him some pictures of her new lingerie purchases. Emma makes sure to save that voicemail for later, much later when she’s alone in her hotel room. With a reaction like that she learned to hate texting him just a little bit less.

Zelena is pushing Emma and Graham harder than ever. Emma however, doesn’t mind because they are now ahead of schedule, almost a whole week ahead. If they finish earlier than expected Emma will get more time with Killian before the tour. Of course she hasn’t mentioned this to him yet because Emma doesn’t want to jinx it. Also a part of her wants to surprise her boyfriend. Emma just hopes it all works out in the end.

Killian gets a call from Liam later that week.

“I was waiting for you to tell me, but I guess I have to drag it out of you,” Liam huffs in frustration.

“What are you on about?” Killian asks, confused.

“It was in the tabloids that you were in Paris two weeks ago. You couldn’t pop over and visit your brother?”

“Liam, it wasn’t a vacation I was there for less than twenty four hours. If I had stayed any longer Regina would’ve been after my head if I didn’t make it back for all the promotion shit she booked for the band,” Killian explains.

“It’s cause I’m not a leggy blonde movie star isn’t it?” Liam teases him. Killian just rolls his eyes. Of course the prat called just to be an ass.

“Only you would call to give me a hard time. Were you even mad?”

“No, I know you’re busy. I just wanted to see how to react.”

“Prat,” Killian mumbles.

“That’s what big brothers are for,” Killian chuckles and they chat about Liam’s upcoming trip.

“When does your flight land?”

“I believe around three next Wednesday.”

“Alright, I’ll be there to pick up your sorry ass.”

“Good, see you then little brother,” Liam teases him once again.

“Younger, but yeah see you then.” Killian corrects him before they exchange their goodbyes. The brothers like to tease each other, but it’s been a long time since they have seen each other and they are both looking forward to this trip. Killian is excited for his brother’s trip, but he wishes that Liam could meet Emma. Unfortunately she’ll still be in Paris. They’ll have to make some time to visit Liam after the tour.

Despite his fame and popularity Killian always insists on picking his brother up from the airport. It seems ridiculous to pay someone to drive to LAX when he has a extremely nice car that he can drive himself. This frustrates Regina to no end. The day of his brother’s arrival the band ends rehearsal early so Killian can make it out there on time.

The moment Liam spots Killian he can see something weighing on his little brother’s shoulders. Liam immediately brings his brother in close, patting Killian’s back. When they break apart Killian gives him an odd look.  Liam shakes his head and slings his arm over Killian’s shoulders. The brothers both know by this point someone has recognized Killian, so they quickly walk to the car. As soon as the car door shuts Liam turns on Killian.

“Now, do you care to tell me what’s going on or do I have to drag it out of you?” Liam says, cutting to the chase.

“Am I that obvious?” Killian asks scratching his ear.

“Just to me, brother.” Liam simply waits for Killian to tell him what is wrong with him. Killian starts the car and pulls out of the parking space. He doesn’t begin telling his story until they’ve left the parking lot. Killian tells him everything about the set up, about how things progressed with Emma, how he fell for her hard, how she ran and he went after her. Killian tells him  everything. Liam quietly listens to his brother the whole time. They are stuck in traffic on the freeway when Killian is done telling recent events. Silence fills the car for a few minutes before Liam speaks again.

“I knew something was going on with you, but I had no idea it was something like this. I was so wrapped up in work I thought you’d tell me if it was big. You were writing the album and normally when you do that you just lose yourself in the music, I thought it was that. I should’ve asked more questions. I should’ve been there for you,” Liam shakes his head.

“Don’t blame yourself. I’m sorry I should’ve been straight with you, I shouldn’t have lied, but I didn’t know how you’d feel about it.” Killian’s gaze unable to meet Liam’s.

“Killian, all I have ever wanted is for you to be happy. I might not have understood this publicity stuff, but I would have supported you. I only have two questions for you now. Do you love her?” Killian nods, “Does she love you?” Killian nods again, “That’s all that matters to me.”

“All right.”

For most of the next week after rehearsals in the morning Killian takes Liam do something around L.A., which does include DisneyLand. Emma requests all the pictures she can get her hands on she only gets one selfie of the brothers much to her dismay, but Killian promise to take her when she gets back. Emma urges Killian to make use of her beach house, insisting that someone should use it while she’s gone. Killian takes her up on the offer and she tells him where the spare key is hidden. Liam seems unsure of the trip the whole way over.

“Killian, are you sure she won’t mind?” he asks nervously wringing his hands.

“Liam, untwist your swim trunks, it was her idea. Why are you being so odd about this?” Killian asks as they let themselves in to grab some towels and a beach umbrella. Liam just shrugs, but Killian keeps an eye on him. Liam is still fidgeting when they get settled on the beach.

“What the hell is your problem?” Killian asks him, barely raising his voice.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Your fidgeting too much, just spit it out.”

“This trip it was more than just to see you. I mean it was mostly to see you, but I’m thinking of leaving the navy and I have an interview tomorrow with a private security firm,” He says quickly as if that would somehow change what he was saying. Killian looks his brother dead on with a little shock in his expression.

“I will always support you in whatever you do, but why do you want to leave?” Killian asks.

“It’s all the politics. The things people will do to get ahead, to get a promotion,” Liam shakes his head, “I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t stand by and let it happen. There is no honor, nothing is straightforward.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I had no idea it was that bad, that you were struggling.” Killian props himself up on his elbows, looking over to his brother.

“We all have our secrets,” Liam says with an all to knowing look.

“Do you think private security is where you’ll be happy?”

“That’s what I’m here to find out. If so we’ll be a lot closer. I’ll have plenty of time to annoy you even more,” Liam jokes, playfully shoving his brother. Killian rolls his eyes.

“I was going to day it’d be nice to have you around, but now I’m not so sure,” Killian teases.

“Nah, you love me,” Liam smirks. Killian nods, lying back to soak up the sun. The brothers enjoy the rest of their day on the private beach.

While Killian is at rehearsal the next day Liam has his interview. He comes to find out that he loves the company and the position they offer him. The money isn’t bad either. He accepts the position and plans to give his notice the moment he returns home.

When Liam tells Killian, he insists that Liam stay with him when he moves here. They celebrate his new job by throwing a small party with Ruby, Robin, Regina, Will, and of course little Roland. They take advantage of the nice weather and barbeque on the patio at Killian’s house.

“Ruby, what are you up to?” Killian glares playfully at his friend.

“What makes you think I’m up to anything?” She asks with a wolfish grin.

“You’re far too quiet over there,” he says before sipping his drink.

“Sounds like you’re a little paranoid over there my friend,” she teases, Killian just shakes his head.

“Are you ever goin’ to bring Dorothy around because I’m startin’ to thing you’ve made her up,” Will asks her, changing the subject.

“She’s very real and filming on location right now. Anyway you lot couldn’t handle her yet,” she smirks. Killian isn’t wrong, she up to something, but Ruby knows Killian has no idea what or should she say who is coming for him right now.

Emma may be exhausted and tired, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get to surprise her boyfriend like she’s been planning to for weeks now. She clued Ruby in on her surprise, so her friend could tell her what the band was up to tonight. Emma had Ruby make sure the door was unlocked, so Emma could easily slip in unnoticed. The car drops her off at the gate. Emma easily punches in her code, so it swings open to let her in.

As soon as she slips in the front door Emma can hear the laughter coming from the patio. She drops her bag and walks to the back door. Killian is standing with his back to her, next to a slightly taller man who she can only assume is Liam, who is manning the grill. Will and Robin see her and their jaws drop, she waves at them.

“Killian, your brother flies all the way here and you put him to work, I thought he was here to relax,” Emma calls out across the patio. Killian’s head snaps to her. Emma smiles and runs toward him and he does the same. Emma jumps into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Killian holds onto her tightly. She buries her head into his neck. It feels right to be in his arms, there is nowhere else she’d rather be. When she pulls back he surges forward and kisses her intensely. When they break apart she smiles down at him.

“Did you miss me?” she chuckles and he just tightens his grip on her.

“You bloody well know I did,” he tells her. Ruby coughs and they are reminded that they have an audience, luckily Roland is in the bathroom with Regina, so they haven’t traumatized him yet. Emma and Killian disentangle themselves. Liam steps forward.

“You must be Emma, Killian never stops talking about you,” Liam sticks his hand out and Emma shakes it, “I’m Liam it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” she smiles and their hands drop. Emma knew Liam was in town she was so focused on seeing Killian she forgot that she would actually have to meet Killian’s only remaining family. Killian simply slips his arm around her waist, his comforting touch calming her nerves.

The group continues on with some small talk and Emma learns that Liam is moving here. She couldn’t be happier for Killian, she knows it’s been hard on him to be so far away from his brother. This will be good for him. Will and Killian get wrapped up in a rather passionate discussion about the tour they have coming up. Liam nods over to a spot away from the group and Emma follows his lead.

“Emma, you seem like a nice girl and good for my brother, but I’ve got to get this out,” he staring her head on, puffing out his chest.

“Is this your protective brother speech?” She asks and he nods, “Well go on I know David gave one to Killian, so this only fair.” Liam just chuckles and nods.

“I was there after Milah died and Emma it was bad. I mean I’d call to check in on him everyday bad. Now he’s back to his normal self, but I know it still haunts him so please don’t hurt him I don’t think he could make it through losing you.” Liam says quickly and quietly. Emma gives him a soft smile.

“I don’t want to hurt him and I wouldn’t make it through losing him either. I have no intention of going anywhere,” she tells him.

“Good,” he smiles. He raises his glass to hers and their glasses clink before they drink.

Ruby strolls up to interrupt the bands conversation.

“Killian, you just left poor Emma to be interrogated your brother?” She shakes her head in mock distaste. The group looks over to where Emma and Liam have moved to. Liam has a stern look on his face and Emma’s face is blank at the moment.

“Emma’s strong and she doesn’t need me to fight her battles for her, but don’t worry I will save her before Liam launches into a navy story,” he smirks. Robin chuckles. Ruby just rolls her eyes. Killian joins them a moment later slipping his hand into hers. Emma smiles at his presence.

“Your brother here was just about to tell me a story from the navy.” He chuckles knowing how hard she was trying to stay engaged in the conversation.

“Ah so I’ve rescued you just in time then,” Killian teases and Liam looks shocked. Emma tries to protest but Liam speaks before she can.

“Oi my navy stories aren’t that bad!” Killian just raises an eyebrow at this.

“Of course whatever you say brother,” Killian just shakes his head. Regina finally returns to the patio, but without little Roland. She returns to Robin’s side and he slips his arm around her waist.

“Roland was getting fussy, so I put him to bed in one of the guest rooms,” Regina answers Robin’s questioning looks. Regina’s eyes finally land on Emma and she raises an eyebrow.

“Oh Miss Swan you’ve returned. Hopefully you can talk Killian out of his childish notions of not talking to me,” she says before crossing her arms. Emma gives Killian a questioning look. He just blushes under her gaze.

“I won’t talk to her until she apologizes to you,” Killian mumbles. Emma raises her eyebrows at this.

“Well that’s a little ridiculous, but a nice sentiment. There is no need to apologize you were doing your job,” Emma tells him.

“Good, now we cleared up that mess I think it’s time for the two of us to have a talk,” Regina tells her and Emma nods. Regina walks inside away from the rest of the group and Emma kisses Killian’s cheek before following Regina inside. Emma has no clue what Regina wants to talk about away from everyone else. Once the door from the patio slides shut behind Emma, Regina turns on her heel to face Emma.

“Look, I know you’re mad about the PI, but they found out something that I think you’ll want to know,” Regina says, calmly. Emma crosses her arms. She should try and put her son out of her mind, he doesn’t need her snooping around his life. He has parents who are loving and take good care of him.

“What did they find?” Emma asks. She knows that she should leave him to live his life, but she needs to know what Regina knows. Her curiosity got the better of her.

“Henry’s adoptive parents just died in a car crash and they had no other living relatives that can take care of him. He’s about to go into the foster system,” Regina tells her.

[brotherhood-of-okay-reviews-blog]

Tv Blog

Chris' Tv Blog Timeless Episode 14: The Lost Generation As usual, if you're watching at home and want to comment below, give a spoiler warning ahead of time. So, let me get this straight. We just came back from a long break in December. The show was moving along nicely and next week is the season finale. Unless I'm wrong about that, I'm actually pretty pissed. Onto the blog. Plot Summary Paris, 1927. Charles Lindbergh is to be the first person to cross the Atlantic in the Spirit Of St. Louis. Flynn shoots down Lindbergh's plane and captures him. Lucy, Rufus, and the new guy head back in time to track down Flynn. But everything obviously goes against the plan and they end up in trouble. Thoughts (Spoilers) The Lost Generation is a good build up episode before we hit the season finale. Wyatt is locked up. Rufus and Lucy are lost on what to do. Flynn and Emma seem like a good team. Everything is on a roll.... But fuck this season finale crap! Sorry, sorry. I'll hold my rant in for later. I got one thing right, the new guy dies. I forget his name but we met him earlier in the show. He was Wyatt's friend in the military. He got shot early on and died in Paris. So I got that correctish. Because I was still speculating slightly what the show might do. Lucy now knows she's officially in the Rittenhouse bloodline. She is meant to join the group later on down the line. Obviously Lucy is reluctant to be apart of the organization but that may lead to Lucy teaming up with Flynn, again. Okay, so is this going to happen or not? Is Lucy going to join Flynn? Because I want this to happen so badly. First reason, Flynn is interesting. I like when he's on screen because he brings about new information in the show all the time. Second, Flynn seems legit. In every turn Lucy takes to avoid him, the show keeps connecting the two's paths. Flynn will say something and it tends to pan out. Lucy keeps witnessing the events unfolding and it's becoming harder to deny Flynn's findings. And lastly, the actor is good. Goran Visnjic gives Flynn a calming demeanor. Even though he may seem a little out there, Goran is able to make Flynn not feel not completely evil or completely good. He just seems to ride the line right in-between. On another note, Lucy gets the diary. She doesn't get the future one Flynn has but she gets a journal at the end of this episode. And it's exact same one Flynn has from the future. This actually brings up a good question, how does Flynn have the diary? Actually, how did he know Lucy wrote down the events in a journal? Is Flynn from the future? Is he lying about what's in the diary? Or did he tell us and I forgot? Assuming I didn't forget, Flynn knows Lucy supposedly joins him. It's been a big underlying plot thread throughout. But how did he know that was going to happen? If he stole the time machine in the present day, how would he have known future events? I guess it could be broken down to Flynn doing research and finding out about Lucy. Maybe he went into the future to track down himself and steal the diary? But then that would create a plot hole because you aren't supposed to visit a time that you exist. But if that's the case, every time the team returns from a mission, wouldn't they technically not be allowed to exist because they would interfere with their current selves? Or is the show saying the future isn't written yet, so they can come back to the present because it's no different than a vacation? Am I just breaking myself? A lot of this goes back to the beginning when I mentioned that the show didn't properly introduce its characters, its setting, and the time machine. The only rule we've been living by is "You can't visit a date where you've already been or where you've existed." I might have the wording a little messed up but that's essentially the only rule we've obtained for time travel in this universe. Now maybe Flynn found a loop hole. It's possible he discovered it and was able to get the journal. That could be the reason. It also could be that the diary is all coincidental. It's also possible that the journal is something he made up to get Lucy onto his team because he is infatuated with her. Huh? That would be a drastic turn. The premise of this pointless theory that I literally just came up with is one, I want to see if I get any reactions. And two, there's a slight chance. Looking back on it, Flynn has never harmed Lucy. Even when he captured her, he always made sure she was safe. What if Flynn attended one of her classes and "fell in love?" What if his family dying is a throw away back story? Maybe it was to entice Lucy in some way. Maybe to get her to feel sorry for him? It wouldn't necessarily explain why he's after Rittenhouse, unless he's apart of it. But I really don't think that's a possibility at this point. He did shoot one of the original leaders.... Unless it was a cover up?... No, probably not. I'm sorry if I just went on a fan fiction type ramble. I think it would be interesting if the writers did go that route but that's a far stretch. Plus I think I'm just trying to exactly figure out how Flynn got the diary. It just doesn't fully add up. But we're going to find out about it eventually. If Lucy decides to test the journal Flynn has, and writes something down, and it doesn't change the future journal, we know the one Flynn has is a fake. What else do we have, oh, Wyatt escapes. Agent Christopher helped in some ways but Wyatt is out any ready to go. Not surprising really. Charles Lindbergh was apart of Rittenhouse. Lucy gets captured, again, and Flynn let's her to try and convince Charles to get out of Rittenhouse. She doesn't succeed and Charles goes on with his future plans. This might not be a huge plot point but it does put some legitimacy into Lucy's diary of the future. She wrote that Charles was associated with Rittenhouse and so on. So it does tie back to the journal in some ways being legit. Again, how did Flynn get it? Oh never mind. Lastly, Lucy seems to have a major connection to Rittenhouse's plans. The reason I say this is because, before the episode started, there was a flash back to Flynn telling Lucy to dig deeper into why she was chosen to do these missions. I don't know what her purpose is but maybe everything the trio is doing is on purpose in one way or another? I honestly can't tell but if I've learned anything from this show so far is that Timeless creates paranoia with its viewers because you always think Rittenhouse is right around the corner. Okay, I'm done with that. We dove into the show, some oddly placed fan fiction, and rambled for a bit. I think that's a good way to end everything until the season finale comes out. Next Episode (End Of Spoilers) Public Enemy Number 1 is the name. The trio steal the time machine, head back to the 1930's, seems to be a common theme, and run into Al Capone. Should be fun. Except for this being the end of the season. No seriously, how is it that we waited all of December to come back to 5 episodes? It's all going to depend on how long we have to wait until the next season comes but fuck that shit. I want the show now.... I knew I should've just waited to buy Timeless and binge watch it. Overall The Lost Generation feels like a precursor to the last episode of the season. There's just enough build up that you want to see what happens in the finale. If I had to give a score, I'd go with a 7/10 (Satisfying). The episode did enough to peak my interest. As usual, thanks for reading!