Luka was nervous. The man sitting before him was over twice his size, and while he looked friendly, Luka had no doubt he could crush him if the need arose.

"So, Mr. Couffaine," Tom began, seriously, "Marinette tells me you play guitar?"

Luka swallowed nervously, "Yes sir, that's correct."

"For how long?" "I've been playing for as long as I can remember." Mr. Dupain-Cheng nodded calmly, glancing over Luka's resume.

"You seem to be quite the busy young man. I'm glad to see you've been working delivery on top of playing music."

Luka nodded at this, sensing a subject he could talk comfortably on. "Music may be my passion, but it doesn't make much for me yet."

Tom nodded slowly and stroked his mustache. "You probably know, but we're only hiring for a temporary, promotional position. It would only be for an hour or two on Friday evenings. How long the position last depends on how many customers it brings in. Are you alright with that?"

"Of course, Mr. Dupain-Cheng." Marinette had already told Luka all of this. The position was her idea, after all.

Tom nodded with a smile. "Good. Now, to business. Why don't you play something for me?" Luka swallowed as he picked up his guitar. It's familiar texture felt natural in his hands, and he found himself relaxing. "Any requests?" He asked, already guessing what the large man might say. Marinette had told him some of her father's favorites already.

"Whatever you think best displays your abilities." Was Tom's official answer. Luka smiled and, after tuning his guitar a little, began to play out one of Jagged Stones' older hits: Metal Rain. He watched as Tom's face went from skeptical to pleased. When he had finished, Tom clapped quietly.

"You did well, very well!" He said, laughing, "Marinette must have told you my favorite. She suggested you herself, you know." At this, Tom's face shifted slightly to a more observant form.

"So tell me Luka, what do you hope to do for a living one day?" Luka swallowed again, "Is this part of the interview, sir?" Tom smirked slightly. "Does it matter?"

"I guess not." He was pretty sure this wasn't just a job interview anymore.

Luka strummed a bit on his guitar, hoping it would give him a good answer. "I hope to play lead guitar in a big band one day, my band, Kitty Section, if possible. Music is the only thing I'm really good at." A few chords came out smoothly, giving a ballad tone to his words. Tom shifted a bit.

"Marinette has told me about Kitty Section before. She's quite proud of the costumes she did for you guys. Quite proud." He paused for a second before continuing, "A job like that requires a lot of travel though. If you have a wife or family, that could be very hard on them." Luka stopped strumming for a moment. His suspicions were now entirely confirmed. "Well, sir, tours are only temporary. While there may be times when I have to be away from my family, I would hope that I could take them with me most of the time." Luka looked nervously up at Tom, whose expression had turned contemplative.

"I suppose that's a possibility. Though, I think baking is still a steadier profession." He winked, revealing a sliver of his natural, jolly nature. Luka couldn't help but relax a little. Whatever kind of test that was, he was pretty sure he had passed... for now.

"I'll keep that in mind, Sir." He added, standing as Tom did the same.

"Well, I think that about wraps things up. I'd be willing to give you a shot. After all, Marinette was very excited at the prospect of you working here on the weekends, and I would hate to disappoint her. Would you be able to start this weekend? I think you may be exactly what we need." Luka released a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"Yes, I can. Thank you, sir!" He shook Tom's much larger hand. And for good measure, added: "I won't let you down!"

Now, Luka sat on a stool in the corner of the bakery, strumming a tune his sister had been humming earlier that day. That interview had happened three weeks ago, and since then he had been a consistent fixture in the bakery on Friday evenings. He loved every minute of it. The customers, and there were lots of those, always seemed happy to sit and listen to him. Everything always smelled liked baked goods, and Mrs. Sabine always sent him home with something delicious as an "extra bonus," much to his mother and sister's joy. But his favorite part wasn't any of this. His favorite part was—

"Waaah!" He chuckled as Marinette nearly dropped a pile of baking pans. But as usual, she recovered and began to put them away.

She is extraordinary. He thought to himself.

His favorite part was Marinette.

When she wasn't working behind the counter, she hung around and listened to him play. Last week, a few of their other friends had dropped by, and he saw the way Alya teased Marinette about him. But he wouldn't say anything about that. As cute as Marinette was when she was flustered, he didn't want to pressure or embarrass her. Besides, he had already told her how he felt. Now, he just had to wait. If she felt the same way, she would let him know herself. Besides, there was another problem he had to work through.

He showed up just before closing time.

"Oh, hello, Adrien!" Luka looked up at Sabine's words. Adrien, bodyguard in tow, seemed even more perfect than usual. Marinette "casually" stepped into the pantry.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Sabine asked with a smile. "Hello Mrs. Dupain-Cheng," Adrien began, "I'm just coming off a photo shoot, and was hoping you had a croissant left?" "Of course we do!" Sabine said, reaching down with some tongs to grab Adrien's favorite dessert. The young model reached for his card, and about the time Sabine was about to take it from him—

Crash

Marinette was laying in the doorway of the pantry, a bucket on her head, and a piece of parchment paper stuck to her foot.

Without thinking, Luka set his guitar down and rushed to her side. Trying to hold back a chuckle, he lifted the bucket from her head and took in her dazed look.

"That was quite the back-beat, Marinette." He said to the dizzy girl on the floor in front of him, "Ivan might have competition." Marinette giggled nervously as she looked up at him.

She was so cute when her cheeks were that color.

"Are you alright?" Adrien asked, leaning over the counter a few feet away from them. Sabine and Tom were both looking at them with sweet smiles. Gently, he helped the frazzled Marinette to her feet.

"Y-yeah, I'm a pint— I mean— I'm alright! Uhh, yeah. I tripped on this paper, and then this bucket fell off the shelf and then, uh yeah."

Adrien's expression changed from panic to relief. "You had us worried, Mari. You have to be more careful! We can't have you getting a concussion."

Adrien's tone was concerned, a bit overly so. "I-I know." Marinette answered, "I'll try."

Luka's breath caught as Marinette clutched his arm, steadying herself so she could remove the piece of paper from her foot. Tom watched the pair of them with a knowing smile, and Sabine finished giving Adrien his croissant.

He led Marinette to a booth as Adrien finished his transaction.

"You sure you're alright?" He asked, feeling the top of her head for a lump.

"I'm fine, really." Marinette answered him. "After all the tumbles I've taken, I'm pretty sturdy."

She tapped her head with her finger, and Luka couldn't help but chuckle.

"You always take such good care of me, Luka. Thank you." With a smile, Marinette leaned closer to him and softly kissed his cheek. Luka felt his whole body warm at the touch.

Adrien paused as he walked passed them on his way out.

Something about him caught Luka's attention, and he turned to look at his young friend. His usually friendly tune had taken on a hint of confusion, or perhaps embarrassment. But why, Luka couldn't tell.

Whatever it was, Adrien shook it from himself, and bid them goodbye.

"Shouldn't you be getting home? Your mom is probably starting to worry." Marinette asked Luka when Adrien was gone. Her eyes were soft and tired, but she smiled at him fondly.

"Yeah, your right." He answered her, "I should."

He gathered his things and headed out, with a wave good-bye to Tom and Marinette. Sabine had disappeared into the back of the bakery, so he asked them to say goodbye for him.

When Sabine stepped out, very shortly after Luka had stepped out the door, she was holding a bag of leftover pastries. "Did he leave already? I was going to send these with him." She asked, concerned.

"He left just now." Tom answered his wife, "He's probably not even across the street yet." At this, Sabine shoved the bag into Marinette's hands and sent her out the door as quickly as she could. Marinette spotted him just as he was stepping onto the opposite side-walk.

"Luka!" She called, waving her free hand frantically. He looked up, and before he could make a move towards her, found Marinette had already crossed the street.

"Mom wanted you to take this." She said, smiling and holding out the bag. "Ah, that's right. I forgot." He reached and took the bag from Marinette, pausing to look inside, mostly for Marinette's enjoyment. When he rolled the bag up again, he looked up to find Marinette staring at him with radiant eyes.

He hesitated only for a moment before gently taking her hand and planting a light kiss against her knuckles. "Can I ask you something?"

"O-Of course." She answered quietly.

"Do you think I have a chance? A fighting chance?"

For a moment, Luka's world stood still. The girl in front of him shifted through a multitude of expressions. He was almost afraid of her answer.

Finally, she pulled their hands closer to her, and planted a kiss on his wrist.

"I think you have a very good chance."

And just like that, the war had begun.