welcome back ^-^

Marinette knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that dates shouldn't be this stressful.

She had been staring at her closet for god knows how long, trying to perfectly dissect an outfit that Adrien would enjoy, and that would be warm enough to account for the chill in the air, and would be comfortable enough so she wasn't fidgeting throughout the date.

Date. The word itself sent jitters down her spine.

The simple truth was, Marinette had never really been on a date. Well, scratch that, she'd never been on a date with someone she actually wanted to date.

Once, in college, she went on a double date with her friend Marcy to the movie theaters and got set up blindly with a guy who wanted nothing to do with her unless she conceded to letting him slide his hand up her skirt. That date didn't go well for either of them, he went to the hospital with a broken wrist and she ended up ruining the night for Marcy.

Another time, back when she was still in Paris, she'd gone on a date with an akumatized classmate of hers, Nathanael, but that date was promptly crashed by Chat Noir in all his elegance.

So on that brief history, her date with Adrien, a well-respected attractive, polite man, would be a first.

And hopefully, not a last.

Would it be cliché if she wore a dress? Were jeans too casual? Heels would be too much, for sure. Or would they?

Marinette dropped her head on the closet door and moaned. She'd never be good enough for Adrien. He was used to hanging around gorgeous, effortlessly beautiful models who showered him with affection and attention, and didn't take forty minutes to pick an outfit for a lunch date. He deserved a girl who could wear six inch heels to any event, not a girl who struggled with kitten heels on tile floor.

"Cheer up, Marinette!" Tikki encouraged, popping out from within the closet and doing a quick loop-de-loop. "I'm sure Adrien will love anything you pick out!"

"Easier said than done," Marinette grumbled, lifting up a beige sweater before discarding it immediately. Too boring.

"Just pick whatever speaks to you!" Tikki encouraged. Marinette blinked lethargically and scanned her closet once more. Nothing appeared to speak to her, at least, not positively.

"You'd think someone working in the fashion industry would have less trouble with this," she muttered to herself, grabbing a skirt and a shirt and comparing them to each other. You couldn't really go wrong with simple – a loose, short black skirt and a white top. She just had to pray that she wouldn't be as clumsy as she usually was and spill something on the shirt.

"Good choice Marinette!" Tikki admired, but it did little to settle her shaking nerves. She put on the outfit hastily, not wanting to be late in any way, and glanced over her shoe collection to make the next hardest decision of her life.

"It would be completely cliché to wear white shoes with a white top, right?" She asked Tikki hurriedly, shaking her hands like she wanted invisible nail polish to dry.

"Um…I'm not sure…?" Tikki admitted, not particularly well-versed on the subject of fashion, seeing how she didn't wear any clothes herself.

"Well I-"

She heard her phone, which was sitting amongst a flurry of negotiation and concept sketch pages, begin to buzz incessantly. That was a bother. Especially if it was work calling – dear god, it'd be just her luck that she'd be called in to do an arduous favor for her temperamental boss instead of going on a date with her dream man.

She grabbed the phone, (meanwhile unceremoniously knocking over several piles of paper) and hit answer.

"Hello?" She breathed out, hands struggling to pick up the papers she had spilled while balancing her phone between her ear and shoulder.

"Marinette. You sound…exhausted."

Marinette about dropped her phone and all the papers in her hands in shock.

"A-Adrien? Hi! Hi there." She stammered, setting the papers back on her desk and subconsciously smoothing her skirt and messy hair.

"Hi. You still up for that lunch date?" He asked her casually. She almost let out a wheeze of dry laughter. Still up for it? She'd been mentally preparing for it all of last night! Of course she was still up for it!

"Yeah! Uh…definitely." She answered quickly, a smile ebbing at the edges of her lips. This was happening. She was actually going on a date with Adrien. After everything going wrong since her arrival, it was almost surreal that something she'd been dreaming about since adolescence was finally coming true.

"Great, listen, the place I was thinking of is kind of low-key, I hope you don't mind. I'll text you the address and see you there, ok?" Adrien disclosed. Marinette could feel her heart tick like a clock, like his voice cued a flow of adrenaline to course through her veins. She had no idea whether that was a good or bad thing.

"Ok!" She laughed loudly, only to be embarrassed by her outburst a mere second later. Adrien didn't seem fazed.

"Bye, Marinette." He bid her farewell before hanging up. Marinette tried to soothe her erratically beating heart, but soon found it to be fruitless. Adrien. And her. On a real, live, date.

This was happening. And nothing was going to stand in her way.

.

.

.

Was it bad that she was purposely making him wait?

Marinette had arrived at the address Adrien had sent her after only a few minutes of casual walking, the weather was fair and for once, she seemed lucky enough to arrive on time. He had already been there, perched against a chair inside near the wide, steep window that gave Marinette perfect access to admire the sharp curve of his jawbone from across the street.

She stood there, lurking, for a good minute, wondering what he was thinking. Was he nervous? Was he anxious to see her come?

He leaned down and checked his watch, perfect, unfazed expression unchanging while doing so. Completely unreadable, if it wasn't for the way his foot began to tap unconsciously under the table, most likely a habit of nervousness developed back in school.

Feeling her heart flush against her chest and ready to jump out at any moment, Marinette took a leap of faith and crossed the street, ready to travel to the paradise she was never able to reach in her youth.

Her measured breath echoed in her lungs, heartbeat louder than the traffic as she lightly pushed open the glass door to the casual lunch place Adrien had chosen – quiet, simple, elegant. Three words she would've taken any day of the week.

Adrien looked up and waved at her, that same unreadable model face greeting her, if it weren't for the glint of betraying relief in his wild green eyes, she would've never been able to tell if he was serious about the date or not.

Right. Date. She would probably never get sick of that word.

She decidedly sat down across from him, trying to mirror his polite, stoic look, before immediately failing to contain her wide rosy-cheeked grin.

His eyes scanned her so quickly she could've blinked and missed it, but his half-smile was a sign of approval she would've killed to receive. There was something so casual and kind about the way he looked at her, it gave her an almost familiar sense of being watched over, like someone had her back, even when she wasn't counting on it.

"You look…lovely." He paused before handing out the compliment, not in a rude way, but in more of a distinctive way – like there were a million words for him to choose from, and he wanted to pick the best one.

"You too. I mean…" Marinette quickly looked down. "You look…nice. Yeah."

He laughed, turning her awkwardness into a plus almost effortlessly.

"So, you've already told me why you left Paris," he said, jumping right into conversation so eagerly, Marinette mentally wondered if he'd been sitting on this conversation starter for a while, "but I want to know what made you choose Lenden Corp.? And how did you get in? I can't imagine Marina Lenden is eager to hand out jobs like this to people as young as you…"

Marinette tilted her head to the side. "Well…I knew Italy would be the next closest place where I could seek out my ideal job in the fashion industry, Lenden being the most famous. I just…immediately began filling out internship applications and, by-the-by, I was actually accepted…and, the rest is history, I guess." She summarized briefly, embarrassed that talking about herself made her feel so vain, even though he had been the one to ask.

"So determined," he mused, curling his lip in a way that made his jagged scar more prominent. Marinette was curious to examine it further, remembering the similar one she had seen on Chat Noir's face, but she immediately swept the thought away, dismissing the thought using the blatant differences between Adrien and Chat Noir as the broom.

"I guess you could say that," Marinette smiled shyly, "what about you? How did you get to be such a successful model?"

He grinned, and that was almost an answer enough for Marinette.

"My friends tell me I have very expressive eyes," he said, widening them for her as she laughed. Clearly, his eyes were only a portion of the reason, but his humbleness served as a vehicle of conversation.

"Is that the reason why, then?" She asked him sarcastically. He nodded vigorously.

"Clearly. Everything else is photoshopped." He admitted sadly, while taking a casual, exaggerated sip of his water.

Marinette pretended to quietly gasp. "You must be the shame of the modeling community."

He nodded gravely. "It's true. I am a complete and utter fake. My only talent is my eyes, and I'm afraid those were inherited."

"And to think, all this time I assumed your modeling career came from your ravishing good looks." Marinette said, cringing internally afterwards. Dear god, she'd admitted she thought he was attractive. Well. Most everyone found Adrien attractive, but that didn't make it any less mortifying.

"It appears the true problem lies within your good faith and poor eyesight." He said sadly, although, the sad tone was accompanied by an untimely grin that obviously appreciated the generous compliment she'd offered him.

"I'm truly sorry to have failed you," she flirted, wishing she had some water as well to quench the dryness in the back of her throat. Being this close to Adrien made her anxious – in the best way, like standing on the edge of oblivion.

"Nonsense," he encouraged her, mirth lit in the surface of his green eyes, "I'd never turn down a compliment, however misconstrued."

"How modest." She commented dryly. He swept his finger across his temple, making her heart stutter a bit. Then, he reached out and waved a waiter over to assist them in ordering lunch, before turning back to her, like she had magnetized his attention with almost no effort. That was new.

"Can I…ask you something?" She wondered aloud, leaning in a bit. He did the same.

"Anything." He disclosed.

"Why did you…ask me to come here?"" She phrased it carefully, too shy to imply that they were on a date directly. He noticed this, raising one eyebrow curiously.

"Why did I ask you on this date?" He rephrased, earning a frustrating blush on her cheeks. Satisfied that he had his answer, he continued. "You've always piqued my interest, Marinette."

She fought the urge to laugh out loud. "Always?"

He looked perplexed by her tone. "Of course. Brave, quiet Marinette was always a mystery to me, although the few times we did exchange words were very…mixed, in my opinion."

"Brave?" She asked, almost cruelly. "I am not brave."

"I beg to differ." He quickly refuted. "You were always so quick to defend your friends. It was admirable, I always respected you for that."

"Well…that's not…"

"You also had a mysterious habit of getting on Chloé's bad side, without being bothered by it." He added mischievously. "You were a force to be reckoned with, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

The way he said her full name sent a pleasing shiver down her spine. Damn him and his incessantly charming qualities.

"Well, you'll be pleased to know that I haven't changed much." She informed him, a bit lowly.

"I am," he told her, "I noticed from the first time I saw you back in Paris…"

Touched by his honesty, Marinette opened her mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by the waiter asking for their orders. Adrien seemed mildly miffed that their conversation flow had been cut short, but ordered with his model-face nonetheless, not failing to charm the waiter senseless.

"You never stop, do you?" she asked him as soon as the waiter left. He looked back at her curiously.

"The charm." She told him, giving him the don't-pretend-you-don't-know-what-I'm-talking-about glance.

He cocked his head. "Are you saying that I'm a flirt, Marinette?"

"Somewhat." She answered, knowing what a flirt was when she saw one. Adrien's method of flirting was…different.

"Enlighten me." He requested, folding his hands and leaning in.

"You charm everyone you talk to," she said, eyes following the waiter as a hint. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

"I assure you, any charm you speak of is purely unintentional." He assured her, before giving her a sideways glance. "…most of the time."

Stunned by his indirect compliment, she looked for a distraction so she wouldn't blush for the millionth time that afternoon. This boy…

After some idle conversation about fashion (which he was acutely keen on – something that made Marinette very enthralled and eager to listen) their food was brought to the table, and they casually ate while making easy conversation.

"So, I know you came back for your job," Adrien stated, leading on, "but are you going to be in Paris permanently?"

Marinette paused, a sense of dread suddenly hitting her like a hail of bullets. There was a very good possibility she wouldn't stay in Paris forever. Marina Lenden could simply tug the leash and Marinette would be pulled back to Milan, away from Paris, and away from Adrien.

"U-um…" she stammered, lifting her head up and shrugging. "I'm honestly not sure! However long this project takes place, I guess…and it depends on if our companies will do more deals in the future…"

Adrien smiled, like someone had flipped the lightswitch on behind his eyes. "I guess we'll just have to make sure our companies stay connected, then."

Marinette smiled, genuine and wide. Adrien had essentially just admitted to wanting her to stay.

Of course, there was the other reason she was in Paris, she couldn't forget that, no matter how many stellar dates she had or how care-free Adrien made her feel.

She took one look at his happy face, and decided that her dying mother wouldn't be a good conversation buffer.

He noticed her face fall a bit without hesitation.

"What's wrong?" He asked her urgently.

"No! I'm fine, I just remembered, that I uh…have some papers to finish! And I'm…not really looking forward to it." She lied easily.

Adrien paused a moment, absorbing her lie. His model face resurfaced, maybe he believed her, maybe he didn't.

Then, he smiled just like before.

"I feel your pain, my…my father appreciates me working holes into my sleeping schedule." Adrien informed her, a hint of steel embedded into his words like shrapnel.

"I know what that's like," she agreed bitterly, remembering all the busywork Marina used to pile on her desk back when she was only an eager intern. Now, at least she was getting paid a decent amount, not that Marina held her any better in her eyes.

He looked at her then, with such weight in his eyes she literally froze beneath his gaze, It was powerful, and commanding. Her eyes focused on his face, capturing every detail, the scar below his lip, the curve of his nose and the crisp gold of his eyebrows.

Wow. He really was a great deal out of her league.

"Marinette," he began, like he had been mulling this over for a good while, "I…I really-"

Her phone rang. Obnoxiously loud. Marinette's breath caught in her throat, desperate to escape into a frustrated scream.

"I'm…I'm so sorry!" She squeaked, fumbling in embarrassment for the device before mentally screaming at the caller ID.

"I-It's Miss Lenden, I-"

"Understand." Adrien finished her sentence for her. "Go on, answer it."

"Thank you," she said gratefully before holding her phone up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Miss Cheng? It's Lola."

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. Lola was the kindest of Marina's many secretaries.

"Oh, thank god. What's up?" She asked, trying to tear her gaze away from Adrien, who was watching her intently.

"Listen, Marinais in the middle of a bitch-fit with one of our top investors because of some press incident – so I'm just here to warn you in case she decides to take out her aggression on you."

Marinette inwardly groaned. She was often the emotional punching bag for her boss, a horrible relationship, she knew that for sure, but she would get through any grievances to maintain the possibility of her dream job becoming a reality.

"Thanks for warning me, Lola." Marinette said, sending Adrien a grim look. He nodded in understanding.

"Also, one more thing. Is there any reason why Mr. Gabriel Agreste himself would call us for your background files?"

Marinette's blood ran cold.

"My…what?"

"Yeah, it was really weird. He pretty much demanded for them, and then when Ana asked if he wanted a new negotiator, he yelled at her and said it had to be you, he just wanted all of your information to make sure that you were 'trustworthy'."

Marinette swallowed the lump in her throat painfully. "A-Anything else?"

"Well, he got the files. So he now knows everything about you while you were here. Where you lived, who your friends were, what you did…but I wouldn't worry too much, Wealthy-business types are always paranoid, for god's sake, you've seen Marina!"

"Right." Marinette replied shakily, trying to sound humorous, although she was really shaken. Why would Gabriel want her records? Did he not trust her?

"Oops! I gotta go, someone spilled coffee and we have three minutes to clean it up before dear Miss Lenden discovers the new brown stain on her chartreuse carpet. I always knew that was a terrible color choice, it shows all of the dirt. Yuck. Talk to you later, Mari."

She slowly set her phone down.

Adrien reached his hand out tentatively, towards hers, but hesitated before actually taking them.

"What's wrong?"

"I…um…"

She looked at him and evaluated. Should she tell him about his father and her paranoia? Or should she lie, just like she had been this entire damn trip?

"I just got six more hours of filework." The lie slipped through her teeth before she could catch it. She couldn't stand to see him hurt, and maybe his father's mysterious tendencies would do just that.

He reached for her hand then, clasping them around hers. She could feel their warmth and almost immediately she feared that she might've already been sweating. He was so close, and he smelt like warm cinnamon and everything delicious.

"I'm sorry," he apologized for her sincerely. She wiped off the apologetic look and smiled weakly.

"That's ok, the more paperwork, the longer I stay, right?"

He slowly smiled in realization. "Right."

Marinette didn't dare move her hands, they felt too safe, too warm huddled under his protective ones.

It almost felt like home.

.

.

.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride home?" Adrien asked her worriedly. She could barely stutter an answer – one of his hands was still locked tight around one of hers, like he was afraid to let go.

"I – uhm – sure. My – yes. I'm sure." She spoke, staring at the ground fiercely.

His hand loosened, slowly, like he was savoring the way her hand felt, before dropping it reluctantly.

"If you're sure." He looked up before getting into his car, then, he froze, like someone had shot him in place. His eyes were fixed across the street, paralyzed.

"A-Adrien?" She reached forward, to tug the edge of his shirt worriedly, before following his ridged, angry gaze.

There were a few pedestrians in his line of sight, Marinette could barely focus on who he was so intensely glaring at. There was a mother and her baby, a man on his phone, and another man with dark brown tousled hair, leaning against the store casually like he was waiting for someone.

Marinette tilted her head. The leaning man looked familiar, like she'd seen his face before once in a dream…

"On second thought, I've got some catching up to do," Adrien growled, making 'catching up' sound more like 'beating up'. Marinette had no doubt that Adrien could win, he was in rather peak physical condition, yet there was something so angry about his stare a stirring worry settled in her gut.

"Wait, Adrien…are you alright?" She asked him, grabbing his arm sent an electric shock up her fingers, his warm skin splayed beneath the pads of her fingers was a rare and exquisite sensation.

He looked back at her, trying to assure her with his steadfast model appearance.

"I just saw an old friend. Nothing serious. I'll call you tomorrow." He looked at her sharply, as if to say, that's a promise, before he took off into a speedwalk across the street.

The man who had been leaning up against the store had vanished.

Puzzled, and a bit startled, Marinette watched Adrien disappear into the crowd before heading on her way home to do imaginary paperwork.

He would understand, if he knew. Right?

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.

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"How was your date?" Tikki asked her, insatiable thirst for gossip as potent as ever.

"Tikki," Marinette began, swinging her purse into her bed. "It was…so much happened."

As she explained every detail of the date to her kwami, from Adrien's insistent charm to the mysterious leaning man, Tikki looked just as enthralled and confused by the whole situation as she was.

"That's strange," Tikki mused, eyes glazed over like she was in another world. "Gabriel Agreste wanted your files? And a leaning man sending Adrien into a panic?"

"It was weird alright," Marinette agreed, shedding her light jacket and stretching her liberated arms to the ceiling. "But…everything else was so…"

Tikki giggled. "Exhilarating?"

Marinette laughed. "Now that's a word."

Tikki flew over and joined Marinette leaning against the shallow frame of her bed, enjoying the laughter and high spirits the formerly dismal room held.

"From what I've heard, you haven't changed a bit from your head-over-heels fifteen year old self," Tikki teased. Marinette made a sour expression.

"Can you blame me? It's like I've only been getting 50% of Adrien my whole life, and now, I'm getting more and more of him and I…and I…I hate him!" She finished with a shriek. Tikki looked startled, and whizzed behind a pillow in fear that she may throw something.

"I hate him! He's so – infuriatingly perfect!" Marinette yelled, her mood swing so violent even Tikki didn't have any words of encouragement.

"I hate…I…Oh god, Tikki, what do I do? I really like him…I don't know what I'm supposed to do…" Marinette's miniscule rage fit subsided to a calm, simmering fear. Tikki crawled out from behind the dusty pillow and sat on her shoulder.

"Marinette, it's true that you left a lot of loose ends when you left for Italy…" She began, apparently starting from the very root of the problem was her most recent tactic. "And Adrien is one of them that you've managed to tie up. I think, before you can focus on one thing, you need to finish tying up the rest of those loose ends."

Marinette played with the tips of her ling hair, a dark, sheen blueish black in color. Many envied the shade, and she had always secretly adored it. She wouldn't dye it if someone paid her a million euros.

"You're talking about…"

"Yes." Tikki cut her off. Marinette turned away and looked towards the window, remembering seeing Chat Noir for the first time after her return to Paris, a panther gleaming in the starlight.

If there was ever a string she'd left untied…

"Do you think he'll forgive me?" She asked, the words crawling out of her broken lips before any barriers could stop them.

Tikki sighed.

"Hearts are funny things Marinette – they're so easily given, and so easily broken." She whispered. "…but not so easily fixed. Time, is what he needs. And foundation."

"Maybe the better question is, will he listen to me?" Marinette rephrased, looking out the window sheepishly and half expecting him to be there, ready for some amorous mischief.

"I think so," Tikki nodded confidently. "He's still Chat Noir, and you're still Ladybug. He'll listen."

Marinette squeezed her earrings thoughtfully before turning towards her kwami.

"I guess we should get this over with then, huh." Marinette expressed sadly. Tikki gave her a tiny, proud smile.

"One step at a time." She reminded.

"Right. Step one." Marinette repeated. Apologize to Chat Noir. This was going to be as gut-wrenching as they come – even more painful than her last run-in with him, which was, to say the least, agonizing. For her, if not even more so for him.

"Well Tikki…" she swallowed her pride. "Spots on."

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im sorry for the wait! i was rlly stuck for a while! also sorry if it sucks but im just kind of a terrible writer fun fact