3. Chapter 3

 She must have heard him wrong. Ladybug gaped at her partner, the wind whistling in her ears as they stood atop Notre Dame. That’s it, she thought to herself, I must have obviously misheard him with the weather conditions the way they are. Because there’s no way hell he just said…

“Pardon me,” she said haltingly, “I didn’t quite catch what you just said. Would you mind running that by me one more time?”

“Um…sorry for your uterus?”

Lady’s eyelid twitched. Nope, she had definitely heard him correctly the first time.

 “That’s…what I thought you said,” she responded, nodding at him slowly. Her eyes held a million different cries for help, but looking back at her partner, he seemed to find no fault at what had just come out of his mouth. In fact, Chat seemed almost proud of himself, oblivious to the internal breakdown his lady was currently experiencing.

“Oh! And I got you this too.” He unzipped his left pocket, fishing out a small foiled-wrapped truffle. “There was more, but this was all I could fit.” He explained sheepishly, extending the candy like a peace offering. “I hear it helps cure lady problems,” he continued, the smallest hint of a blush appearing on his face.

“I….yeah,” Ladybug responded, tentatively taking the chocolate from his hand. She watched as he ducked his head, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck uneasily. Deciding to take pity on the poor cat, she let out a small chuckle, easing the tension between them just enough for her partner to look up hopefully.

“I wouldn’t say chocolate is a cure per say,” Ladybug continued, pausing to pop the newly unwrapped treat between her lips. “But it most certainly doesn’t hurt matters.” Chats eyes traced the movement of her mouth, his blush taking on new meaning as her eyes slid shut, savoring the flavor.

Not that money had ever been an issue, be he was suddenly very glad he had sprung for the expensive stuff as he watched her nod in appreciation.

“Owh muy God!” she exclaimed through a full mouth, grinning in a delightfully goofy way. “Thus is seriouswuy incwudable!” Chat gave her a lopsided grin at the childish way she was enjoying her treat, prompting her to snap her jaw shut. Ladybug let the rest of the exquisite chocolate melt in her mouth, disappointed for its absence. She eyeballed the cocoa power stuck to her fingertips, calculating just how far she could push her bad manners in order to get one last taste.

“Well my Lady, anything to…” Chat’s response was cut short when, to his utter horror and delight, Ladybug brought her gloved fingers up to her mouth, suckling the remainder of the chocolate from her slim digits. Once again her eyes slid shut, enjoying what little pleasure she could derive during this week from hell. She was broken from her reverie at the sound of his choked gasp, one he instantly tried to cover with a cough. He waved off her confused look with one hand, the other still raised in a fist to catch the brunt of his coughing fit.

His eyes had yet to leave hers though, and realizing the rather suggestive position she was in, Ladybug allowed her fingers to spring free with a small pop. She watched his eyes go impossibly wider and before she even knew what she was doing, she shot him an impish wink, not unlike those he threw her way nearly every day.

In hindsight, he could have probably used some warning.

Ladybug registered her own actions a split after he did, her own immense embarrassment prompting her to quickly turn away. She had crossed that thin line between innocent playfulness and full-on flirtation without even knowing it, treading into territory most often inhabited by Chat himself. The fact he was so uncharacteristically lost for words only heightened her suspicion that she had perhaps taken things too far. A strange sort of feeling began to bloom in her chest.

“Well!” she blurted in a forcibly upbeat tone, “We had better get going now, can’t just expect the Akuma to come walking right up to us, can we?” She swiveled back to throw him one more falsely casual smile before taking a running leap from the church, her yo-yo zipping out to catch on the opposite building. As her feet hit the pavement, Ladybug knew fully well the erratic rhythm of her heart had nothing to do with several-story jump she had just taken, and everything to do with the leather-clad hero still perched atop the centuries old building behind her, still desperately trying to pick his jaw up off the ground.

“hhmm-ugggggHH”, Marinette groaned, throwing herself face down on the bed. After the long and strange day that had just transpired, the familiar feel of it under her body helped work out some of the tension she had been carrying around.  Above her shoulder, her Kwami flitted around playfully, giggling at her friend’s demeanor and narrowly avoiding the pillow thrown half-heartedly towards her.

“This isn’t funny, Tikki!” Marinette bemoaned, rolling over to glare at the large stuffed cat that dominated the head of her sleeping space. Pretending it was some sort of overgrown voodoo doll, she jabbed it in the snout, savoring her small (if childish) victory. But that wasn’t the feline on her mind at the moment.

“He apologized… for my uterus!” she recalled with a grimace. She had almost all but forgotten his awkward condolences, unable to think past her own bold actions that followed. Obviously he had managed to work out what had been afflicting her weeks before on their stakeout, and was trying to make up for in his own misguided way. When Marinette thought about it, the gesture was almost…sweet. A word not often associated with Chat Noir. Sauvé, sure. Gratuitous, absolutely. But sweet? It was a strange thing to experience from the rascally boy.

In fact, the more she thought about it, the more Marinette began to appreciate his sentiment. Perhaps going straight to “sorry for your uterus” wasn’t the most tactful way to approach the subject, but the thought was there. And the fact he most likely spent a pretty penny on that truffle…

There it was, that strange feeling flared up behind her ribs again as she recalled her utterly lewd reaction to his present. Sitting up to slowly untangle her hair from its trademark pigtails, Marinette flushed at the memory of the way his breath hitched, eyes focused on her lips as she chewed. The way he had practically melted at her spur-of-the-moment wink. Yes, perhaps the finger cleaning was a tad unnecessary, she thought, absentminded stoking the cat pillow beside her. But hell if it wasn’t the best chocolate she could ever recall having (and that’s big coming from someone who grew up above a bakery.)

“You like himmm.” Tikki sang out in her twinkling voice.

“I absolutely do not,” Marinette shot back, pushing herself up to head over towards her desk. “You know there’s room for only one boy in this heart.”

Tikki flittered over to plop onto the tabletop in front of Marinette, giving her a knowing look before continuing. “You’ve never acted like that around Adrien before…”

“Acted like what exactly?” Marinette replied, chewing the inside of her check guiltily as she opened her laptop and clicked over to the Lady Blog. Although the Akuma attack had happened just hours before, leave it to Alya to already have a full story posted, detailing the fight in its entirety.

“I may not be human, but I’ve been around long enough to understand when someone is flirting.” Tikki zoomed in closer to emphasize her next words. “And you were most definitely flirting with Chat.”

Marinette just scoffed, eyes continuing to scan her friend’s article. She was unwilling to even give thought to such a ridiculous suggestion. She scrolled down to find a gallery full of pictures depicting Ladybug and Chat Noir, working in tandem against the giant, tennis racket-wielding villain.

Most of the shots where blurry, Alya had been complaining about her lack of a proper camera for months now, but others stood out in stark clarity. The first showed Ladybug leaping to dodge a fiery tennis ball, the flaming edge of the spinning projectile coming dangerously close to her face. Marinette couldn’t help the small bit of pride she felt to see the determination on her own face. If only she could feel the same out of costume.

She clicked through a few more pics, the ordeal seeming much more treacherous now that she was an outside observer. As Ladybug, she felt invincible. As if every factor of life around her could bend to her every whim. But seeing the raw power of the enemies she regularly ran up against after the fact never ceased to awe her, putting in perspective just how miraculous her alter ego was.

Finally, the last image of the article popped up on her screen. This one depicted the two victorious heroes, bumping knuckles as a middle-aged woman in a tennis skirt sat on the grass behind them, a confused expression plastered across her face. Despite being quite preoccupied during the battle, Marinette had managed to notice her eager reporter friend dancing around the duo after their victory. Ladybug made sure to smile straight at the camera during her triumphant final moments on the scene, knowing Alya would be thrilled to get such an amazing shot. What she had failed to notice until now was the fact that her partner had paid no mind to the camera, instead gazing at Ladybug with enough raw admiration in his eyes to make her throat close up.

Marinette clicked her laptop shut. She stood suddenly and grabbed the soft pink towel dangling from the hook over her door, making her way to the hall bathroom. By the time her hand closed around the faucet of the tub, her heart was hammering just as quickly as it has been this morning. Chalking her reaction up to stress, Marinette reasoned a hot soak followed by a good night’s rest would help wipe away the lingering emotions of her strange day. After lighting the stubby tea lights lining the bathroom and squiring a liberal amount of her favorite lavender oil into the tub, she slid in.

 Now, if only she had some chocolate…

It wasn’t until that night, until after all the fighting and the lessons and the endless hours in front the camera were over that Adrien finally let himself go back over the events of the day. The embarrassment over his less-than-stellar opening line was vastly overshadowed by the events following his foot-in-mouth condolence. Her reaction had surpassed even his wildest dreams.

Well…perhaps not his wildest.

But, the way she looked at him as she licked the cocoa from her fingers was downright sinful. And if you had told him a week ago that Ladybug would actually wink at him, he would have had you sent off to an institution. Yet here he was, reliving the moment over and over, fervently hoping it wasn’t just a stress induced concoction of his mind. Adrien mentally kicked himself for about tenth time today for ruining the moment with his awkward onslaught of coughing.

I mean c’mon. Ladybug. His Ladybug. Had been flirting. And flirting with him!

“Or technically, with Chat Noir” Adrien thought somewhat dejectedly, toeing his shoes off and placing them inside his spacious closet. The cavernous room echoed with the slap of his bare feet on hard flooring as he made his way to the large windows that dominated the northern wall of his bedroom.  Ever grateful for their ability to slide right open (a feature that made his almost nightly excursions possible) Adrien opened the closest one just a few inches, suddenly feeling as though the room lacked air.

I mean, maybe it wasn’t his doing at all…but what other way could he take it? Adrien had never seen anyone react that strongly to chocolate alone, even it was a Knipschildt truffle. Although they usually sold for some ridiculous sum, with a wait list a mile long, the deliciously dark morsels were never in short supply at the Agreste household. The founder was an old partner of his father’s, and was more than happy to keep his friend well stocked with his favorite treat.

So yeah, it was a good truffle, but not good enough to change someone’s personality so drastically. There had to have been something there before. Perhaps his nearly 2 years of almost constant flirting had somehow suddenly broken through? Adrien pondered. Or maybe she had always held some small amount of romantic feelings towards him, choosing now to act upon them.

He sighed, taking in one last lungful of crisp, winter air before closing up for the night.

It’s not as if he was a stranger to being pursued. Leaf through any fashion catalogue or take a 5 minute walk through Paris and you couldn’t go without seeing his face. At school he was widely admired, a great subject of affection for many girls (and if he was being frank, some of the guys too). Some admirers, like Chloe, had a borderline obsession, hounding him in the hallways and showering him with gifts. Or there where the silent types, who just stuttered their way through painfully brief encounters and avoidedg his gaze like they were looking at the sun. In fact, very few people treated Adrien like an actual human person. Nino and Alya had gotten over the glamour in a matter of weeks, now holding to the same regard they would any of their other classmates. Marinette was usually a tentative fourth to their group, still tripping over herself anytime Adrien addressed her specifically, but he found it didn’t bother him much. That’s just Marinette for you…shy, sweet, and somewhat uncoordinated.

But everything was different when it came to his Lady.

The obvious turn on being her all-around bravery, strength, beauty, selflessness and charisma, all wrapped up in a polka dot package. But Adrien had other reasons to be enamored with her. While he had dozens of people falling over themselves to please Supermodel Adrien Agreste, there’s only one person who truly seemed to care for and admire the most genuine part of his identity. Chat Noir.

 The mask gave him the opportunity to be the person he wanted. Someone unique and free of expectation. Knowing someone could still admire him without the façade was the reason Adrien found himself so completely drawn to Ladybug. And the mere suggestion that she could somehow be drawn to him as well…

The image of her fingers sliding out from between her lips flashed once again within his mind. The memory of her winking that same flirtatious messages he found himself constantly throwing at her came unbidden to the forefront of his thoughts. Not for the first time today, Adrien felt his skin flush.

Across the room, Plagg caught sight of his friend once again reddening like a tomato and he began to cackle. Adrien just shot him a withering glare, mumbling something about where the Kwami could stick his cheese before stalking towards the bathroom.

 He needed a shower.

A very long, very cold shower.