Author's Note: Epcot97 here alongside DearestMrIcarus. Many, many months ago -- back before the heat of the summer hit -- we were tossing around ideas for cool projects we might want to work on together, and the idea of a heist/caper story came together amazingly quickly. We were a few chapters into it when we we dove headlong into MariChatJune and never completed the work. Fast-forward to late August: both of us had completed a number of other projects and this one popped back onto our radar. Happily we were able to pick up the breadcrumbs we'd left behind and finish what we started. (Admittedly, any chance to work with Ic is a bonus in my book - even if it does take forever between our crazy schedules! Sorry about that, my friend.)

Y'all, its Ic here. I CATnnot even tell MEW how excited I am for you to read this story. (What's that Ep? I need bettPURR puns? Meowch, that stings.)

Taking place at some point beyond the series, this story finds us following adult versions of our favorite superheroes as they balance real life and it's crazy relationships with their duty to protect Paris. Mix in a sudden revelation that changes everything… and, well, you'll just have to read the story now, won't you?

One: Rainy Days And Sundays

The deluge started halfway back to the mansion.

Rain had been threatening all evening, but Chat had dragged out his departure from Marinette's new apartment, relishing in their celebratory dessert over both her new digs and their first full year as an official couple. He'd surprised her with the gift of booking Adrien Agreste to model her latest work at the massive Spring Fashion Show that would be taking place the following week in Paris – something her fledgling design studio would never have been able to have afforded, given the worldwide demand for the supermodel's talents. It helped that Chat had an inside track with Adrien.

Her subsequent thank you had been eloquent and had been partially responsible for his delay in returning.

Chat landed on the rooftop opposite Agreste Manor, a perch he'd often used while he'd been living with his Father. He'd moved out at his first opportunity; initially, a dorm at University, and now his current apartment not all that far away from Marinette. That had been purposeful: Chat had carefully recommended a few locations to her, while ensuring the lowest-rent one closest to Adrien turned out to be the best option.

Not that being close to Adrien mattered; it was Chat that Marinette was dating. How he'd managed to pull off keeping his alter-ego's identity secret from the woman he loved for more than a year was a feat of tap dancing he was particularly proud of. There would come a time when he'd be able to reveal himself to Marinette. When he did, he knew one of the first things she'd do would be to tease him about the short commute Chat had been making between their two apartments.

Aside from his monthly mandatory dinner-with-Father stayovers, Adrien seldom visited his old digs. His deal with Gabriel Agreste was that any income from modelling was his free and clear; that provided for his apartment and day-to-day living needs and gave him much needed flexibility to continue his side gig as Chat Noir. He definitely didn't look forward to the monthly stayovers, though, but Gabriel had insisted on them as his price for allowing Adrien to control his career without interference from his father. Fortunately, Adrien had been successful enough on the modelling front he'd managed to avoid tapping his trust fund and the ensuing additional strings attached to it.

Nothing in their arrangement precluded him from having dinner with Father, retiring early to his old bedroom, and then transforming into Chat Noir to spend the balance of the evening with someone whose company he truly enjoyed. That was the only part of his monthly stayovers he actually cared about.

He paused, looking over the mansion that had for so long been his prison. Freedom had arrived with Master Fu and the Cat Miraculous ten years ago. Though much had changed since then, one constant hadn't: through everything, he and Ladybug had yet to defeat Hawkmoth. So the battle continued, often daily, to protect Paris and keep Hawkmoth from obtaining any further jewels.

The light was on in his old bedroom, just as he'd left it, but the window he'd carefully left open for his return was closed. He raised a masked eyebrow. While the brewing storm had drenched him thoroughly, there hadn't been much wind; certainly not enough to have blown the window shut.

Removing the baton from the small of his back, he extended it slightly and helicoptered over the fence of the mansion and landed on the ledge just below the window. Perched on his boot toes, he could tell definitively it was closed, locked from the inside.

Chat frowned.

Carefully, he slid along the ledge, confirming the other panels were similarly locked, ignoring the rain that was matting down his wild blonde mane and running across his vision. Short of smashing the window, which was a possibility, of course, there was no way he'd be re-entering from here.

He continued to the edge of the floor, and using his claws, climbed over toward the connecting bathroom. Chat wasn't surprised to see that window was also locked. Vaulting up to the roof proper, he settled into a cat crouch to consider what to do next.

For the great Chat Noir was apparently locked out.

There was no point in checking any other windows; he was certain that the smart home his Father had designed had automatically closed everything up at the first drop of rain. He could possibly wait out the storm, but that didn't seem terribly desirable. Returning to Marinette was an option, but Adrien would need to be seen at breakfast back at the mansion.

That left the front door. If he timed it right, maybe he could get in without being detected and back to the room before anyone knew differently. Chat smiled – he hadn't been this sneaky since he'd been a teenager. Clearly being home was rubbing off on him.

Creeping to the edge of the roof over the massive front doors, he hung over it upside down to case the entrance. The atelier was just off to the side, and he could see the lights were still on. That wasn't unusual – Gabriel was up at all hours working on the very designs Adrien spent most of his career wearing in front of a photographer.

The light indicated where Gabriel was; the wildcard was whether he'd dragged Nathalie in at this late hour. Gorilla had long since retired owing to Adrien having moved out, so that meant he had a better than average chance if Nathalie was in the atelier with his father. Carefully, he extended the baton and rode it down to the door, gently landing on his padded soles. The door opened easily beneath his paw, and he cracked it slightly, feline ear pressed to the opening.

Fortunately, the foyer was empty save for the ticking of the grandfather clock. The main chandeliers had been extinguished for the evening, and the remaining wall sconces lit the space sparingly. It was appropriately murky atmosphere for a stealthy entrance.

He could make out voices in the atelier, though. Faint. One male, one female.

Slowly, he pushed the door open just enough to scoot through and tried to close it quietly. Chat was thwarted, though, when the latch clicked home loudly, causing his ears to flatten in concern.

The voices in the atelier ceased suddenly.

Quickly, he vaulted across the space and landed on the far side behind a very uncomfortable couch in the darkest part of the foyer. He crouched against the back and held his breath, trying to keep his ears below the top of the couch's seatback.

The door to the atelier opened. "What is it?" Nathalie's voice said from inside.

"I thought I heard the door," a familiar, yet oddly unfamiliar voice said. Father, but not.

In a flash of insight, Chat realized the voice sounded much like his did when transformed – it was mostly Adrien, but slightly different.

What the Hell?

Chat slid down further, and carefully used his claws to pry the couch's rear cushion up enough that he could get a clear line of sight to the door. What he saw made his blood run cold.

Hawkmoth was standing there, back to the couch, examining the foyer. "Maybe not," he said, turning, his eyes sweeping the space and landing on the couch.

Chat froze. Every instinct told him he was in grave danger, but he couldn't immediately reconcile why he didn't spring into action and take down his archenemy.

Hawkmoth paused a moment longer and then turned and returned to the atelier. "As I was saying, we need to finish the designs for the Spring Collection that will be at the show," he said as he closed the door.

Show? Spring Collection?

Chat's heart stopped. He knew, without any doubt, he had just discovered who Hawkmoth was. He let the cushion crumple back into its normal shape and slumped down. All these years, especially those where he'd been living in this same house.

He had to know what was going on in that room.

Moved to action, Chat vaulted across the space and landed in a crouch outside the atelier door. He paused for a moment, then pressed a feline ear to the door.

"…sure it's a good idea to use them?"

"We need an edge," he heard Father/Hawkmoth respond. "We've lost significant market share worldwide. I'm convinced these designs will make the difference."

"It's risky," Nathalie replied. "I can't believe you'd willing let someone else wear the brooch."

"There are ways I can protect myself," he said. "But the jewels figure into my design."

Jewels? Chat thought. Plural?

He was aware the Peacock Miraculous was missing; was it possible it was in Hawkmoth's possession, too? Since Mayura's appearance years ago during Hero's Day, they'd assumed the holder of the Peacock had, at the very least, been working with Hawkmoth. This gave him strong evidence that the relationship went far deeper than that.

Nathalie, he thought. My God. They're working together. I'd be willing to bet they have been this entire time.

"You could trust Adrien to wear them," Nathalie said.

"That's a possibility," Hawkmoth replied. "I have to get him out that contract he signed with Dupain Designs first, though. Our lawyers are looking at it now."

Chat raised a masked eyebrow. I've got my own lawyers now, Father, he thought. And they wrote the contract. Wait until you see what I'm charging her…

"That will do it for tonight, Nathalie," Hawkmoth said. "Let me take that from you and put it back into the safe."

"Of course, sir," he heard the secretary reply. Hawkmoth muttered something that he couldn't quite pickup, but his feline hearing did pick out the telltale signature sound of a de-transformation sequence.

Chat pulled back from the door. Could he get in there and catch both what Gabriel was storing, and where he was storing it? He had just a few seconds to decide, knowing Nathalie would come through the door shortly.

I need to know.

Quickly, he vaulted from his position to the mezzanine above, catching the railing with a clawtip and hauling himself over the edge in a smooth movement. Down on all fours, he bounded across the walkway toward his bedroom, leapt down the short stairway to the door and cracked it open. Standing, he quickly called out: "Plagg - claws in!"

The green wave of de-transformation washed over him and he was once again Adrien, clad in the lounge pants and tank top that passed for his nightwear these days. He started down the stairway toward the atelier, trying air dry his hair by rapidly running his hands through it. The damp locks were the only sign from his escape.

He met Nathalie at the atelier's door, his hand raised to knock.

"Adrien," she said coolly. "Good evening."

"Nathalie," he replied, equally as cold. "Is Father in? I had trouble getting to sleep, and thought I heard him down here."

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes," she said, and stepped aside to allow him entry.

Gabriel was at his design workstation, a much larger monitor than he'd used years ago. He didn't look up. "Adrien," he said simply.

"Father," Adrien replied. The Agrestes were not known for their loquaciousness toward each other.

Adrien considered his words carefully as he surreptitiously scanned the room. Nothing was out of place, and there was certainly no evidence of the Miraculous jewels Hawkmoth had to have been holding mere moments earlier. His eyes fell on the portrait of his mother. He knew from his ill-fated decision years earlier to steal the Miraculous Grimoire there was a safe behind that portrait, and he was willing to bet the jewels were in there, too. "I was having trouble sleeping," he repeated, "and heard you down here. Are you working on items for the Spring show?"

His eyes locked onto Gabriel's, and as he waited for his Father's response, one thought occurred to him. Gabriel wouldn't be willing to remove his Miraculous and risk being separated from Nooroo. That made it unlikely that the Moth brooch would be in the safe; but the Peacock pin might. And Adrien was reasonably certain the Grimoire was still in there, too.

We have to get them, he thought.

"I am," Gabriel's voice cut through his thoughts. "Since you are under an NDA with House of Gabriel, you are welcome to see them," he added, stepping back from the console.

Adrien stepped around and up to the console. The virtual light table had multiple concept sketches open, and he methodically went through them, murmuring his approval at the designs. His Father may be a megalomaniac villain bent on destroying Paris and taking Chat and Ladybug with it, but he was also undeniably a genius designer. Adrien scanned each sketch until he landed on two that confirmed what he had heard as Chat.

One was a classically cut men's three-piece suit in blue-purple, vaguely echoing the outfit Hawkmoth wore. An old fashioned cravat around the neck was pinned to the underlying shirt with the telltale Moth brooch. The second was a flowing evening gown in deep blue, with a ruffle evoking a fan; the Peacock pin was prominently placed below one shoulder, holding the two pieces of the strap that went over the shoulder together.

Both were stunning, despite their clear misuse of the jewels.

"Amazing, Father," Adrien said, adding casually, "Are the prototypes done?"

"Yes," Gabriel replied. "They are in the vault already, awaiting the exhibition."

"These two in particular," Adrien said, pointing to the suit and the dress, "I don't recognize the jewels. Who is loaning them to you?"

Adrien was aware that the old line jewelers would routinely lend out their most famous pieces for use in shows such as the one coming up. On the face of it, it would appear to be an innocuous question to his Father.

"It's a boutique shop from Asia," Gabriel said, as he reached around and closed out the sketches. "And I remind you that you have a signed NDA."

Adrien allowed a dangerous Chat-like smile to appear. "Worried about me working for the competition, are you?" he asked. "You should be. I've seen what Dupain Designs will be showing."

Gabriel looked at Adrien, hard. "I will crush her just as I have crushed all the other competitors that have come after me." He leaned forward, in a manner that younger Adrien would have found threatening. "You may share that with Mademoiselle Dupain."

This Adrien stood his ground. "Don't worry," he said, his response laced with a subtext Gabriel would not understand, "I will. Good night, Father."

He backed away, waiting to break eye contact until the last possible moment, and then to leave the atelier. Adrien carefully made his way back to his old bedroom and shut the door behind him.

The space was not his own anymore, of course. Save for the bed, the rest of his childhood belongings had been packed and stored once he'd left for University. He had a handful of changes of clothes in the closet, and that was the limit of his personalization.

Plagg floated out from where he had been hiding. "Yes," he said before Adrien even spoke. "Transform and find Ladybug."

Despite the situation, Adrien smiled. "This is normally where I have to ply you with vast quantities of cheese in order to convince you to transform me," he laughed grimly. "That tells me you feel this is just as serious as I fear it is."

"And it's the best opportunity we've had yet to close out Hawkmoth's reign of terror." Plagg actually lifted up Adrien's ring hand. "Go. I'll recharge later."

"Plagg – claws out!"

Once the green glow faded, Chat Noir overrode the settings on the window and leapt back out into the rain, pausing only once he'd reached a rooftop a safe distance from the mansion. Pulling out the baton, he clicked into the phone function and speed dialed Ladybug.

It took a moment, but her beautiful masked face appeared on his tiny screen. "Chat?" she asked, stifling a yawn. "Please tell me it's not an akuma. I need a few hours more sleep tonight."

"Not an akuma," he said. "Possibly worse. I know who Hawkmoth is."

Her eyes widened. "How--?"

"We need to talk," he said urgently, cutting her off. "Where can I meet you?"