A/N: So, the next chapter for The Love of a Cat is not ready for posting. And probably won't be for a few days. Please take this story as an apology.

What do you get the most wonderful, kind-hearted, selfless girl for her birthday? Because Adrien was at a loss.

"It's Marinette," Alya pointed out. "The girl would be thrilled if you got her anything."

"I know," he bemoaned. "But…I can't. Not only was she the only one thoughtful enough to go out of her way to get me something—and hand-make something for me at that—for my fifteenth, but she let me believe that it was my father's gift just because it made me happy. I can't let her down with anything other than perfection."

Alya grinned at that. "And that's why you are going to end up getting her the best gift ever."

Adrien scoffed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Come on," Alya said. "For you, Marinette should be easy. You're the son of one of her fashion idols."

"Yeah, bro," Nino chimed in, elbowing Adrien's side. "She loves fashion, and you live and breathe that world."

"Isn't that an easy shot, though?" Adrien said. "Everyone knows she loves fashion."

"Well, yeah," Alya relented. "But it's what she lives and breathes. Not to mention it's an expensive hobby so anything that allows her to produce more that she doesn't have to buy is a bonus, right?"

"I suppose." Adrien still didn't like it, though. It seemed rather shallow.

The bell rang, and the dull rhythm of school began, only to be broken up by lunch and a very excited Marinette. "Alyaguesswhat?"

"Chill, girl," Alya responded, forcing the bouncing girl to sit down. "What's got you—"

Before Alya could finish her sentence, Marinette shoved a bright pink sketchbook in the brunette's face. "THIS!" she squeaked.

Alya gasped. "Did you finish?"

Marinette nodded, and then the girls squealed in excitement. Marinette squirmed in her seat like an impatient puppy as Alya flipped the book open and started scouring the pages.

"What is that?" a very confused Adrien asked.

"Her fashion portfolio," Alya answered. "Marinette spent months pulling all the best ideas from her previous sketchbooks, developing them, and putting them in one nice, pretty, colored sketchbook."

"It was a bit of an experiment to see how far I could push myself and the designs," Marinette spoke up. She had long since lost her stutter when speaking to Adrien. Now, it was his personal mission to make her so comfortable around him that she lost that last edge of shyness that she always had when talking to him. "I also wanted to experiment about how to format everything so that I know how to build my actual portfolio when I begin searching for fashion internships and such."

Adrien smiled at her. "May I?" he asked, pointing to the book.

Alya happily handed it over, allowing Adrien to look through the book himself. Impressed wasn't quiet the right word for it. Page after page after page was nothing but quality. "I've seen portfolios that aren't half as nice as this, Marinette. If this is an experiment, I can't wait to see what your real one is like. You'll get hired for sure."

She turned a bright yet adorable shade of red. "You really think so?"

Adrien nodded. "Definitely."

"I don't know a thing about fashion," Nino chimed in. "But I know you're way too talented for anyone to pass up. This is awesome."

Her cheeks now rivaled the color of Ladybug's suit, contrasting with her eyes and making them appear even bluer. Honestly, she was too cute for her own good. "Thank you."

Adrien eventually gave the book back, and Marinette cradled it against her chest possessively.

When the end of the day rolled around, Adrien was still at a loss.

"You'll think of something, Agreste," Alya whispered one last time before headed off after Marinette. "We're still headed out? Right?"

"Let me put my stuff away, first," Marinette said, holding her portfolio tightly against her chest. "I don't want to lose it."

"Good call. With you, anything's possible."

"Hey!"

Adrien chuckled at the girls' teasing before noticing his vehicle pulling up.

Nino patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, bro. You have it in the bag."

Adrien shrugged. "I guess. But I don't just want to get her nice fabric or anything. She actually made me something, then spent two years pretending that my father got it for me. I feel awful, every time I bragged about that scarf in front of her…"

"Yeah, I can see that. But it was also something that she took herself to make you happy."

"Which is why I better get her something that is special. Something more than money can buy."

Nino offered him a grin. "Well, whatever you get her, she'll be thrilled. But dude, you live around fashion designers. Your dad is one of her biggest inspirations. You have it in with a crowd she wants to get into. You'll come up with something."

It at least got Adrien to smile. "Thanks, bro."

"No prob."

With a fist pound good-bye, the boys split to head home. And all the while, Adrien couldn't stop thinking about what to get Marinette and what to possibly get her for her birthday.

"And your father is home tonight," Nathalie said, breaking into his thoughts as she absently listed off the schedule he had memorized already. "So he scheduled dinner with you."

A half-smile contorted Adrien's lips. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Lately, his father had been working out of town, so having him home would be nice. But then again, it was his father, and his father at dinner was usually no more interesting than eating alone. Occasionally, his father surprised him with conversation, but it wasn't often. "Thank you, Nathalie."

When they arrived home, Adrien went straight to his room thinking that maybe doing a bit of homework would take his mind off of things and possibly help clear it.

"Why was Princess so happy about that thing?" Plagg grumbled. "She was squealing so much, it made my ears hurt."

"She put a lot of work into it, Plagg. Of course she's proud about it."

"But she put her heart and soul into it just to send it off to people that are gonna tear it apart. Why would she be happy about that?"

"Because critiques are how people get better."

Something about that statement stopped him short. Combined with a comment from earlier, one both Nino and Alya said: his father was her fashion idol.

Slowly, a smirk came across his face. He knew what he wanted to get his princess for her birthday.

"I don't like that look on your face."

"No one asked you, Plagg."

He thought about how he could possibly get that book from Marinette. Maybe he could ask Alya. Surely, she'd help him out.

Plagg scoffed. "Good luck with that. Why not just take it?"

Had he been talking aloud? "Because I'm not a cat burglar."

"Well, that's questionable," Plagg drawled out, "but whatever floats your boat."

Adrien glared at the kwami. "Thanks, Plagg."

"No problem."

Mind made up, he picked up his phone to text Alya.

"So, how are you gonna get your dad to spend time to critique your friend's work?"

Adrien froze. He hadn't thought about that. This was his father they were talking about. Gabriel Agreste wasn't about to spend any time on an amateur's work, not even as a favor for his son.

So Adrien sat back down to get lost in homework, hoping that something would come to mind. And by the time he figured it out, he reached for his phone to shoot Alya a text. "I need your help with a present for Mari. Are you still with her?"

"Yes, but can't help tonight. Babysitting. Tomorrow?"

Adrien groaned. His father was home tonight. He had to get that sketchbook now. He stole a look at Plagg. This was going to make him feel even guiltier.

"Never mind. I can do it myself. Thanks, though."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Just thought her best friend's input would be helpful."

"I have faith in you! Good luck!"

"Plagg—"

The kwami groaned, but didn't try to argue. "Here we go."

"Claws out."

Running along the rooftops was usually freeing, but today, it wasn't as miraculous as usual. Not when he was going to basically swipe his friend's pride and joy.

Wow. This was going to legitimately suck.

When he got to Marinette's place, he landed on her balcony as lightly as possible though he felt about as heavy as a brick. He peeked inside, noticing there was no one in the room. Perfect.

Slipping into her room, he searched for her book, finding it resting on her desk. He reached for it, only to stop short. He couldn't take it. It was killing him too much. He had to ask someone for permission. He couldn't just snatch something from Marinette like that.

Bounding back out, he landed in the alleyway and detransformed.

"What happened?" Plagg said after he zipped out of the ring. "You almost had it."

"I can't just steal it without telling anyone. And I don't want to break into her room to do it."

"Except you did."

"But I stopped and rethought this plan out. Now hide." Adrien opened his over shirt.

With a sigh and an eye roll, Plagg hid in his little shirt pocket.

Taking a deep breath, Adrien walked into the bakery, only to be immediately greeted by Mrs. Cheng...er, Sabine. She had warned him a few times to call her that. He was just of the habit to address his elders formally. "Adrien, what a wonderful surprise. Marinette isn't home right now."

"I know," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Actually, I…I kinda wanted it that way."

She quirked a brow at him. "Oh?"

"Yeah. You see, ma'am, I wanted to get something really special for Marinette for her birthday, but in order for me to do that, I need that sketchbook she loves."

"Hmm? What sort of gift." But then she got a slight twinkle in her eye. "Or is it a surprise?"

"Well, hopefully, if it goes right, a really big surprise. But…the reason I'm telling you is that I don't want to just…you know…take it for the week."

Sabine pondered it for a moment before she nodded. "All right. I'll help you. Go get it from her room and I'll spend the next week stalling for you."

Adrien felt relief flood him. "Thank you, Sabine."

"But it better be a good surprise," she warned teasingly.

"Hopefully, it will be. Otherwise, I'll bring the sketchbook back tomorrow and explain everything."

Sabine smile grew. "This is why I like you, Adrien. Now go get it before Marinette comes back, okay?"

"Thank you. I appreciate it so much."

With that, Adrien bounded up the stairs, snatched the sketchbook, and hurried back home as fast as he possibly could. When he sat back down at his desk, he tried to finish his homework, only to be constantly distracted by the sketchbook. He crossed his fingers and hoped beyond all hope that this would go well.

Dinner came around, and Adrien was pretty nervous. He was for certain overestimating the likelihood this was going to go well. It was probably going to backfire in his face, but Marinette was worth it.

When he reached the dining hall, his father was already there, punctual as always. They sat across from each other, as per usual, twenty empty spaces separating them.

"Adrien."

"Father."

Conversation was staggered, forced, usual. Adrien had learned to more-or-less accept the fact and simply roll with it. Which was why he waited until dinner was finished before bringing up the subject at hand. "Father," he began. "I have a very large favor to ask of you."

His father lifted a single brow. "What sort of favor?"

Adrien stood, holding his hand up in a gesture to wait a moment. He walked just outside the door to snatch the sketchbook from a side table before walking to his father, sketchbook upright for him to see. "This is the fashion portfolio of a very good friend of mine. Her birthday is coming up and I was hoping that I could convince you to critique some of the pages. This is a hundred page sketchbook that she happened to fill front and back, so I was thinking that you could look through it and choose twenty designs to critique."

His father's brow lowered. "Adrien, I am very busy. I don't have time to waste on such a silly endeavor."

Adrien's eyes narrowed. "Thirty minutes of your time; that's all I'm asking."

"I don't have time to fish through an amateur's sketchbook to find a couple good designs, Adrien. It will take me longer than half an hour to complete."

"This is the sketchbook of Marinette Dupain-Cheng," Adrien ground out. "The girl in my class that won the hat competition as well as the junior jacket competition you hosted for good publicity last year."

At this, Gabriel raised a brow but quickly lowered it. "That still doesn't mean I have the time—"

"Then how about this," Adrien snapped, interrupting his father with a just anger pulsing though him. "You do it because you owe me."

"Owe you?" Gabriel repeated incredulously.

"Yes."

"And just how do I find myself in your debt?"

"Because over two years ago, for my birthday, Marinette made me a scarf. One that I spent the last two years believing was from you," Adrien answered, his voice loud and accusing. "And you know what she did? She spent all that time telling me how happy she was that you gave me something that I was so fond of because she saw how happy it made me. She let me believe it was from you because she didn't want to take that happiness away from me. And then I learn the truth because I overheard her talking to her friend in the library. Do you have any idea how terrible I feel knowing that I bragged about you in front of her when you stole that gift from her? And worse yet, it wasn't even you. Nathalie did it because you were too busy to take any time out of your day to even attempt to buy me a gift, so you put the responsibility on her. Yet, you still claimed the gift as one you got me. So yes. You owe me. And most of all, you owe Marinette." He slammed the sketchbook on the table in front of Gabriel, causing the usually stoic man to stare wide-eyed at it, if only for a moment. "So the way I see it, you can take thirty minutes of your time to critique a few designs from this book that Marinette poured her heart and soul into to help make up for the fact you stole from her. Something, which I may remind you, that you fired a leading designer for doing just six months ago."

With that, Adrien turned and marched from the room, leaving his father stunned silent.

He shut the door to his bedroom harder than normal, trying to resist his urge to slam it. Anger still pulsing though his body, he stalked around his room like an anxious cat. Plagg, thankfully, was silent and simply let Adrien burn it off.

Eventually, Adrien plopped down on the edge of his bed. "Plagg," he asked, his voice half the volume it had been earlier. "Was I too hard on him? Was that wrong?"

Plagg floated over to him. "No, kid. I don't think you were."

"Really?" Adrien asked, uncertain.

"Adrien, I know you don't like blowing your top like that, but you were pretty controlled through it all. I don't think you did anything more than light a fire under his butt. Either he does something, or he loses your respect. I think that's a fair ultimatum considering he claimed Princess's gift for the better part of two years. Not to mention all he's done on top of that."

Adrien sighed. "I hope you're right, Plagg."

"Of course I am. Now stop moping around, okay."

Adrien cracked a smile. "All right."

The next day of school was one he tried to erase from his mind. Marinette was miserable. And he was the cause.

"I misplaced my portfolio and I have no clue where it is."

"It will turn up somewhere, girl."

"You don't understand, Alya," she said. "I was going to submit a couple pieces to a design competition."

Alya forced a smile on her face. "I'll come over and help you look for it, okay?"

Marinette sighed. "Thanks, Alya."

And Adrien did his best to pull all his modeling skills to keep a straight face even though he was dying to apologize. Worse yet, he didn't even know if his father was going to critique the book at all. By tonight, he would have his answer. Adrien hadn't the slightest clue if his father would follow through or not, but Adrien was sure of one thing: keeping this up would kill him. Tomorrow, Marinette was going to get her sketchbook back with a big, fat apology or an early birthday present.

"What sort of competition, Mari?" Nino asked. "Can't you design something else for it?"

"It's a Gabriel Agreste competition, Nino," Marinette answered. Adrien's ears perked up at the name of his father. "I had designed a couple of pieces specifically to submit. And the deadline is my birthday. I don't have time to start over."

"I didn't even know my father was holding a competition," Adrien said.

Confused, Marinette's frowned. "He's been announcing it for two months and you didn't know?"

Adrien shook his head, looking and feeling like a kicked puppy. "I don't know anything he doesn't tell me. And he's been working out of town for the past two months. It's the first time I heard of it."

Marinette gave him a pitiful look. "Yeah. It's another junior competition, like the jacket one I won last year. This time, the winner gets to shadow a designer backstage during a fashion show."

Adrien could see the appeal of that through Marinette's eyes. "I could always take you," he chimed up. "A birthday present of sorts."

Her eyes widened. "No. I don't want you to feel obligated to do that."

"But what if I want to?" he asked.

Marinette bit her lip in indecision. "As long as you promise that it's not out of obligation or pity. I wanted to win that privilege fairly."

Adrien flashed her his most charming smile. "Well, you know one of the models who wants to give his friend something memorable for her birthday, so really, it's not fair at all."

Her slowly growing smile was a balm for his heart. "That's really nice of you, Adrien."

"Anything for you, Marinette."

She turned bright red at that. Darn, she was just a cute little pip. It wasn't fair.

"Adrien," Alya chimed in. "You're secretly a prince, aren't you? Coming in to save Marinette's day." With that, she elbowed her red friend who somehow turned redder.

Adrien shrugged, feeling more like a thief than a prince.

"It will just be a bummer that I won't get any feedback on my designs," Marinette bemoaned.

That being said, Adrien crossed his fingers out of Marinette's sight all while hoping that his father would do as Adrien had asked.

When school was over and Adrien was driven home, he walked through the front door and immediately saw his father standing on top of the stairs.

"Father," he greeted.

"Adrien."

There was a short silence between them before Gabriel started walking towards Adrien, hands held behind his back as always. When he stopped in front of his son, he extended his right hand out, sketchbook in his grasp.

Adrien looked at the book, then at his father. "Did you critique a few of the designs?" he asked, taking the book from his father.

Gabriel paused. "I hope that your friend will have a good birthday this year."

With that, he left, retreating into his office and shutting the door firmly behind him.

Curious, Adrien opened the book, wondering for himself the answer to his father's cryptic words. And when he saw what his father had done, Adrien dared to ignore his father's closed door, pushing it open and throwing a "thank you" into the quiet room before shutting the door behind him once again.

Adrien didn't know how he did it, but he managed to convince himself that waiting until Marinette's birthday would have the biggest impact. Until then, he comforted the distraught designer about losing her chance to enter the competition. "My father rarely looks at those submissions anyway," he said, several times over the week. "It's always his under-designers that do it, and then he'll look at the top candidates and decide. Don't worry about it. You aren't missing much. Plus, how many people get their friend to personally tour them around the backstage of a fashion show, huh?"

It got Marinette to calm down a bit. "I suppose. I just am disappointed that I'm going to miss the opportunity to enter."

Adrien just had to keep telling himself that what he had was much better.

Finally came Marinette's birthday. Gifts from her friends were piled on a table for her while another table was packed a bunch of goodies. Adrien tried to restrain himself lest he eat the entire table, but considering the good-natured ribbing he was getting about his friends about his diet, he wasn't completely succeeding. Games were played, causing ample laughter and merriment. If one didn't know any better, Marinette had completely forgotten about missing the competition.

After a while, Marinette was forced into a chair decorated to look like a throne while Alya handed her presents one after the next.

"Alya," Adrien had whispered to her. "Please make sure mine is last."

The gleam in her eye was so curious, it was dangerous. "Real confident there, Agreste."

"Trust me," he begged.

Alya shot him a wink and a wicked smirk, one that unsettled Adrien just a bit. But she did keep her word and left Adrien's for last.

Marinette gave him a confused smile as she looked at the tag and noted his name. "But you already promised me a gift."

Adrien's smile widened. "Trust me on this one, ok? As a thank you for the scarf you gave me, as well as letting me believe it was from my dad. I owe you too much."

"You don't owe me anything," she argued.

"Yes," he stated, causing her cheeks to brighten. "I very much do. Open it."

So she did and gasped when she saw it. "My portfolio!" she looked up to Adrien. "How? When? But…I thought…"

"About that," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I needed it."

While Marinette looked up at him with confusion, he wasn't ignorant to the daggers Alya was staring him down with. "Do you mean to say that you purposely took her sketchbook?" Alya snapped, drawing Adrien's full attention. "Even though you knew that she wanted it for a competition."

Adrien grimaced. "Yes. But it was for a really good reason."

"What good reason could you possibly have, Agreste?"

"Alya," Marinette said, her voice soft with wonder.

Everyone watched as she flipped through page after page. She wasn't even a quarter way through before she took the rest of the pages and flipped them quickly. When the last page fell, she looked up at Adrien, blue eyes wide, gobsmacked. "You got your father to critique my portfolio?"

By now, everyone was staring at Adrien. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah."

She swallowed. "You got your dad," she repeated, words coming slowly, "to critique my entire portfolio?"

He grinned wider. "Yeah."

It was like watching Marinette in slow motion the way a slow grin crept across her face. And that slow motion sped up quickly as she began bouncing and wiggling and then she was in high-speed as she flew from her chair, squealing in a pitch Plagg certainly wouldn't appreciate as she tackled Adrien in a hug. "Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou—" With another squeal that was beginning to even hurt his ears, she squeezed him with strength he didn't even know she had. "THANK YOU!"

"I got to hand it to you, Adrien," Alya chimed in, flipping through the sketchbook herself. "This is pretty hard to beat."

He could only smile in a pained sort of way considering that Marinette still hadn't let him go from her vice grip. And then, in a split second, she realized that she had a sketchbook that was graded by her fashion idol awaiting her to browse through and released him in favor of flipping through her book.

"You know," Nino whispered, siding up to Adrien—who was very happy to be able to breathe again—"It's really not fair. You didn't even spend any money and you still outdid us by leaps and bounds."

Adrien could only shrug. "Well, she deserves it."

"Well, you got that right."

The party soon ended and people started heading home. Though Alya, Nino, and Adrien lingered to help clean everything up.

"Hey, Adrien," Marinette said before he could leave. "Please be sure to tell your father thank you for me. I really appreciate him doing that."

Adrien smiled. "I'll be sure to tell him. And I hope you aren't too mad about what I did."

Marinette's eyes widened. "No, I can't be too mad. Maman told me that you came and told her what you were doing. And I can't be too upset considering that people would kill to have Gabriel Agreste so much as look at their work."

Adrien smiled. "Well, I'm glad you like it."

"I love it. Thank you so much. And thank you for promising to take me on a tour of the fashion show. That will be fun."

"I'll get you more details when it gets closer. Okay."

"Sounds perfect."

With that, he gave her a quick hug. "Happy birthday, Marinette."