A/N: Fake-dating! Chloe character development! Volpina! All iterations of the love square! Welcome to an idea that has been bubbling for months. Co-written with the lovely ember53608, you can also follow the two of us on tumblr (amillion-smiles and datte-ba). Without further ado, enjoy! :3

Chapter 1: By the Virtue of Chloe Bourgeois

In a perfect world, Chloe Bourgeois would not be the living definition of "antagonistic", and Marinette would not let her temper get the better of her.

But, alas, there are some things that not even a "Miraculous Ladybug!" can set right. Which is how Marinette walks into school on the Monday morning of what will later be remembered as the Longest Week of Her Life.

Alya drags her off the steps and into the bushes before Marinette can process anything, much less protest.

"What?" Marinette asks, glaring at her best friend for tugging her so roughly. She skirts some leaves off of her hair and fumbles with her shirt before catching wind of Alya's expectant stare. The brunette has in her hand an issue of the academy's monthly Gossip Gazette, an endeavor spearheaded by none other than Alya herself, though most of the articles are written by her classmates what with the demanding nature of the Ladyblog.

"What?" Marinette reiterates, confused. Glaring out at her from the cover is a typical shot of Adrien in one of his father's newest designs. He looks rather handsome, but then again, he always has, and she's not sure that's the point here anyway. Alya watches her ogle the cover for a few seconds before groaning and rolling her eyes, flipping to an article midway through the booklet.

Oh, Marinette almost says, but doesn't for loss of words. The picture facing her is a familiar and recent one, taken not more than four or five days ago. Chat Noir perches with poise on the edge of her balcony fence, his tail curling up into the air as an indicator of pleasure. Marinette stands just a few feet to his left, the flush of her cheeks and the pink of her nightgown dappled in moonlight. Without any context, it seems to depict a rather romantic rendezvous. Marinette, however, knows that it is anything but.

"Who wrote this?" she murmurs, roving her eyes over other pictures with similar shots but different angles.

Alya clears her throat, glances around nervously. "The new exchange student, Raffaela," she replies.

Marinette arches an eyebrow. "You gave an Italian exchange student the romance column? Over a Parisian?"

"I thought it might be interesting to have a different perspective," Alya offers, and Marinette rolls her eyes. The bell signaling two minutes to first period rings sonorously across the campus grounds. Marinette stuffs the Gazette into her backpack and grabs Alya's hand before heading inside. Though her initial reaction to the pictures was something resembling "somber," Marinette's heart only seems to pound faster and faster the closer she gets to her locker.

She's never taken much to do with her "personal" relationship with Chat very seriously, but this certainly puts a new twist on things. Marinette's hands tremble as she fumbles with accurately turning the dial on her lock. When she finally gets the thing to click, she opens her locker so violently that a dozen or so notebooks fall noisily from it. A few lockers over, Chloe says shrilly, "It's not that big a deal. I mean, Chat Noir's been in my house twice. As if he'd go for someone like Marinette —"

Marinette slams her locker. Loudly. "I'm sorry, Chloe," she starts, sugar-sweet, "but I don't think green is really your color."

Chloe swivels. There's an awkward pause as she purses her pale pink lips, brow furrowed, until Sabrina whispers, "She means you're jealous," and Chloe's blue eyes narrow.

"Me, jealous?" asks the blonde incredulously, touching a manicured hand to her mouth in mock shock. A sinister simper laces her lips, and she lets out a nervous laugh. "At least I'm not hung up on someone I can't even confess to."

Marinette is about to cry out in agony at the fact that Chloe knows she likes Adrien, but she stops herself, realizing quickly that almost every girl in school has a crush on Adrien. She rolls her eyes and darts a quick glance to Alya before replying, "Refresh my memory, Chloe, but how many times have you confessed? Twenty, thirty? And he still hasn't noticed you?"

It's a cruel move; she realizes it the moment the words fall off her lips. But the world that revolves around Chloe Bourgeois is even crueler, and Marinette can't help but fight fire with fire. She stands resolutely, watching as Chloe's lip begins to tremble. "Well, it's— it's not like you have a boyfriend, either!" she shoots back. All eyes shift from the queen bee to her challenger. An air of suspense hangs about the hallway.

Marinette, thankfully, prides herself on her quick thinking. It's what makes her Ladybug, after all. But right now she's seeing more red than red-and-black spots, which prompts her to cross her arms and blurt out, "Actually, Chloe, I do have a boyfriend."

Alya, bless her soul, manages to hide her cough behind her hand. Meanwhile, Chloe checks her nails before smiling predatorily. The very obvious lie has her back to her original, caustic demeanor within seconds. "Oh, yeah?" she taunts. "Who?"

Marinette freezes, trying to maintain her bravado and quell the twitching sensation in the corner of her eye. Off to the side, Juleka and Rose shake their heads forlornly. Mylene, from her spot beside Ivan, sends her a sympathetic look. Marinette can sense everyone waiting for her to crumble under the pressure; they smell blood in the water, recognize when Chloe's about to go in for the kill.

But Marinette is far from finished. She's reigning co-champion of Ultimate Mecha Strike III. She won a design contest judged by Gabriel Agreste. She's Ladybug, protector of Paris. She is, in no way, going to be fazed by someone as petty and grating as Chloe Bourgeois.

And as luck would have it, at that very moment, Nino and Adrien—golden-haired, green-eyed Adrien, Paris's posterboy Prince Charming—round the corner.

"Adrien," starts Marinette, the name catching in her throat before she repeats, louder, "Adrien! Good morning!" Already, a plan has formed; she bounds over to him, momentarily buoyed by her determination to undermine Chloe.

"Hey, Marinette," greets Adrien, raising a hand. His eyes widen when Marinette, rather than stopping, throws her arms around him. "What—"

"Please-just-play-along-I-promise-I'll-explain-everything-later," Marinette says into his ear, all in a rush, before she squeezes her eyes shut and goes for it.

It takes a few seconds to register that the softness under her lips is not, in fact, Adrien's cheek—which is what she was aiming for, Marinette swears. Nino's "well, crap" is what tips her off—that, and Adrien's sharp intake of breath as he places a hand on her back to steady himself because she just kissed him on the mouth oh god oh god this isn't what was supposed to happen he wasn't supposed to turn his head cut cUT CUT—

The only redeeming aspect of the whole thing is Chloe's scandalized shriek in the background. Marinette's satisfaction is short-lived, however, as she pulls back, bracing herself for the worst. Her teeth clack unceremoniously against Adrien's as she tears herself away from him, and she accidentally bites her tongue. Alya's hand flies up to her shoulder in an attempt to steady her, thank God, because Marinette is 99.9% sure that she's about to see stars. Her mouth is still the powdered sugar croissant from this morning, but her lips are strawberry tart. She doesn't know whether she can bring herself to breathe.

"Um…" Adrien blinks down at her, dazed. He still has a hand on her back, burning a hole through her skin. For a fleeting second, Marinette thinks: this is it, this is the moment he realizes he's secretly in love with me, too, but she quickly dispels that notion because her mind proved it was incapable of acting rationally about five minutes ago. Oh, god, she thinks. Does this count as harassment? What if she gets dragged to the headmaster's? What if Adrien files a restraining order, what if—

"Marinette." Adrien's tone is reassuring, though bewildered. Marinette works up the courage to lift her face; Adrien studies her, mouth open as he struggles to form the appropriate question.

Chloe beats them both to the chase. "Adrikins, what is the meaning of this?"

Adrien's green eyes flash upwards to look over Marinette's shoulder. His gaze darts around the hallway, taking stock of situation; Marinette holds her breath. When Adrien glances back at her, something passes between them—an understanding, almost.

"Nothing, Chloe," Adrien says easily, drawing Marinette closer to his side as he straightens. Alya's hand falls away from Marinette's shoulder, though she gapes all the same. Nino stands next to her, smirking beyond comparison. She punches him, before Adrien continues, "Just saying good morning to my…"

"Girlfriend," mutters Marinette, not daring to turn around and face Chloe, lest she give the whole ploy away. Then, this whole mess will really have been for nothing.

"…girlfriend," Adrien finishes smoothly, just as the bell rings. He tilts his head to look at her, an uncertainty, but not annoyance, swirling in his eyes. Marinette gulps, leans back a little farther into the crook of his arm so as to settle herself. Alya and Nino file into place on either side of the "couple," tentative smiles—each holding its own secret meaning—encouraging their friends. Thirty seconds to first period: homeroom—and everyone from the hallway will be there. Marinette gulps.

"Ready?" asks Alya, breaking the silence.

Marinette holds her hand.

"Ready."

*.*.*.*.*

Things that Marinette knows about time:

1. It's relative.
2. It's very, very slow.

Professor Laurent drones on about division of labor and specialization while Alya slips a note across the table they share: u ok?

Marinette writes back with an emphatic NO.

She can't decide whether the whole situation is made worse by the fact that she and Adrien are friends. In the year that they've known each other, Marinette's managed to get her stuttering situation straightened out. Attending the same lycée was her chance; this year was supposed to be her year. And then she had to go and blow it wide open.

In front of her, Adrien's golden head remains attentive, following the teacher's every word. It's one of Marinette's favorite things about him, how he doesn't zone out like the rest of them—the novelty of being free of homeschooling still hasn't worn off, Marinette supposes. As she looks around the room, she can't help noticing how little the landscape has changed: different tables, different walls, but many of the same faces, the same seating arrangements.

The same battles, Marinette notes grimly, as Chloe catches her gaze and narrows her eyes, glaring.

The more Marinette thinks about it, the more she stews in her seat. Why shouldn't she pull a fast one on Chloe? It's not like her dating Adrien is that implausible. Crazier things happen all the time! People get possessed by butterflies. If she can manage a double life, she can manage a fake relationship.

The question just boils down to how exactly to phrase that so that it seems amenable to Adrien.

By the time the bell rings, Marinette has five different scenarios mapped out, only one of which involves bribery and only two that involve begging.

All five, however, require an empty classroom.

"Dude, come on," groans Nino, foot tapping as he waits for Adrien to finish gathering his things. The rest of the class has filed out, but Marinette has an off period, and she knows Adrien does, too.

(Completely coincidentally, she swears.)

Alya clears her throat, trying to get Nino's attention.

"Like, I know you've got time, but I have to stop by my locker, and—"

"Ahem," Alya tries again, this time more forcefully, causing Nino to look up.

" Oh, " Nino says, catching on. "On second thought, take your time, take all the time you need—"

"—swear, Nino, one of these days I will actually shove your socks in your mouth," comes Alya's reply as she drags him by the arm out the doors.

When the two of them are finally gone, Adrien seems to deflate, setting his book bag back down.

"So…" he turns, rubbing the back of his neck. "About this morning…"

"Right. That about. I mean, about that, I wasn't— trying to make a move on you or anything, you know. You're not that— I mean, you are, totally — great, I— argh!" Marinette slams a fist into her palm and takes a breath. "Can I start over?"

Adrien makes an awkward motion with his hand. "By all means."

Start with Chloe. She can definitely articulate her feelings toward Chloe.

"So this morning, there were those pictures in the Gazette."

"Which ones?"

"The ones of me and Chat," says Marinette, making a face. "And they kind of set Chloe off, for whatever reason, which set me off, which is why I pretended you were my boyfriend."

"I think I picked up on that much," cracks Adrien. He studies her carefully. "So what do you want to do?"

"I want to keep it up," blurts Marinette, before she realizes that she sounds maybe a little too eager and dials it back. "Just for a little while longer, at least. So that Chloe's somewhat convinced it was real and so that I didn't drag you through all of that for nothing."

"You… want to be my fake girlfriend," Adrien says slowly.

Real girlfriend, preferably, Marinette amends in her head, but out loud she simply points to him and says, "Yes."

Adrien rests his chin on his hand, thinking. "What about Chat?"

Marinette blinks. "What?"

"Those pictures with him are what started this, right?" prods Adrien, seeming strangely earnest. "So what exactly are your feelings toward him?"

"He's…" Reliable. Trustworthy. Flirts too much for his own good and probably doesn't know the meaning of sleep. All things Ladybug would say, but Marinette isn't Ladybug right now. "He's saved my life quite a few times now," she comes up with. "He's cool."

"It's pretty hard for me to compete with a superhero," muses Adrien.

"I— I think we'll manage," Marinette says, eyeing him. Is he seriously considering her proposal?

Adrien ponders things for a long time. He seems to be running some sort of calculations in his head, twisting the ring on his right hand absentmindedly as he gazes out the window. Eventually, the math must check out, because he turns the full force of his green eyes on her—Marinette holds her breath, because for a moment there's something sly and slightly wild in their depths, not unsettling so much as familiar—and says, "Okay."

*.*.*.*.*

What has her heart fluttering many hours later is a list that's tucked into the back pocket of her pink jeans. It's written in her flowing cursive onto a seven by seven page from one of her moleskines, and the words of it burn into her skin. Marinette lies in bed, resists the urge to retrieve the list for a measly two minutes before leaping across her room and to her closet. This will be the fourth time today that she's reread it, and though she already knows the words by heart, there's a part of her that wants to see his name fleshed out next to hers.

She slips out the paper with two fingers and unfolds it carefully, spreading it out against the flat of her knee. It reads:

MARINETTE & ADRIEN'S CONTRACT

1. Marinette and Adrien will "date" each other for two months before breaking things off in a civilized manner. (This means no acting like Chloe on either end.)

2. Adrien will meet Marinette at her locker every morning. A kiss isn't always necessary, but it makes for good effect.

3. Adrien will get a 15% discount on all goods at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, but only while "dating" Marinette. In return, Adrien will come over to Marinette's house every Friday to pose for her in her designs.

4. Public displays of affection will be held as necessary action between the hours of 8 A.M. and 6 P.M. If Adrien and Marinette are out on a "date", this may be subject to change.

5. Any and all disagreements shall be handled by means of physical conversation, not textual. (Holding said conversation over a bread basket would also be nice.)

6. Marinette will do her best to remain friends with Chat Noir and convince him that any affection she holds for him is purely amicable.

7. However, Marinette will also get an autograph from Chat Noir for Adrien to have. (Alya will be responsible for getting an autograph from Ladybug, of course.)

8. Adrien will do his best to slip some of Marinette's designs into his father's office, though never at the cost of impending punishment.

9. Nino and Alya, though they are not currently present, will be sworn to secrecy concerning this matter and will help in any way, shape, or form.

10. Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste are hereby held to this contract by the virtues of friendship and a certain Chloe Bourgeois. May their signatures attest to this fact.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Adrien Agreste

Marinette giggles to herself. She had insisted for the purpose of being professional that Adrien sign his name in cursive, but the poor boy had told her that compared to her elegant penmanship, his awkwardly looped letters were simply a disgrace. Even his print, she can tell, was written with painstaking care, as evinced by the tremble of his every line.

She wants to pin it up on the wall as a reminder that this is real, she's actually pulling this off—but for secrecy's sake she tapes it into her diary and turns the lock.

Tikki, having read every word of the contract when Marinette first took it out, sighs defeatedly. The Kwami spent a good fraction of her afternoon with Marinette trying to coax the girl out of the sly business deal. She prides herself on her sensibility, Tikki does, and this situation does not look to her like one punctuated by such a trait, though her partner can't seem to grasp that fact.

"I'm still not sure you know what you're getting into, Marinette," she tries, yet again.

"Relax, Tikki," assures Marinette. "It's nothing that Ladybug can't handle, right?"

The Kwami gives her a questioning look and folds her arms. "You've told me before that Marinette and Ladybug are two very different people, so I'm concerned, is all."

Marinette waves her hand dismissively. "Like I said, Tikki, relax." She climbs into bed and pulls the covers over her head, unable to hold back an elated giggle because she, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, is about to embark on an incredible adventure, the center of which can be traced all the way to Adrien's lips, Adrien's hands—Adrien, Adrien, Adrien. The thought of it is enough to drive Marinette into a pillow-screaming frenzy, so she turns her head into the feather-filled object.

And thus begins Day One.