Marinette quietly followed Adrien into the apartment, feeling a sense of relief that Chat Noir had ventured off on his own for a while. It's not that she didn't want him there. It was just, when he was around Adrien he couldn't seem to control his mouth. She could already hear every charming quip that would undoubtedly escape her outspoken partner's lips.

'I'm surprised Darcy hasn't got a life-sized marble statue of himself in his entry way.'

'Look, M'Lady, he has one of those useless pieces of kitchen equipment which deshell an egg. Check out his fridge, I bet he doesn't even have eggs.'

This was the first time they'd been separated since he'd arrived over a week ago, and she couldn't help but wonder how long they could be apart. A quick glance at her phone told her it had been 5 minutes so far.

Finally stepping in behind Adrien, she surveyed the small two-bedroom apartment—a stark contrast to what she had envisioned. Instead of the grandeur of chrome and sparkling, top-of-the-line marble, she was met with a cosy, lived-in space that felt incredibly homely.

The lounge boasted bookcases filled with a blend of classic and contemporary literature, showcasing the complete series of Lee Child's 'Jack Reacher' novels alongside a healthy dose of Stephen King, Charles Dickens, and Victor Hugo. Amidst the shelves stood a large-screen TV, a piano, and a coffee table. Several boxes were still scattered around the room, a clear indicator that he had recently moved in and carefully selected which belongings to unpack first. The setup truly spoke volumes about him.

"Sorry," he said, his hand stretching to rub at the nape of his neck. "I'm still in the middle of unpacking."

Marinette wandered around the room, her fingers lightly tracing the contours of a vase that seemed oddly familiar.

"You've been to Shanghai then?" she said, looking at the vase with extreme curiosity. She had a very similar object in her own apartment.

"Yeah, when I was 14."

Well, that was curious. "Me too," she responded. "I went to visit my uncle."

"That's cool," he said, removing his shirt and leaving him in just his tee as he headed into the kitchen. She felt her head tilt to the side, her eyes examining him — that was quite the back.

Glancing around to ensure her partner hadn't suddenly caught up with them, Marinette leisurely admired the frame of this ex-model, the snug fit of his tee accentuating all the right places.

Well, hello there, she thought. Talk about unexpected eye candy.

Marinette couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with amusement at the situation.

Her cheeks warmed from her own cheeky thoughts. But Adrien Agreste was far more than just a pretty face with a wonderfully defined physique. He was smart, funny, and unbelievably kind. Despite knowing each other for only a measly eleven days, he felt like a true friend.

Everything felt so wrong, yet so right! It was as if she was destined to spend time with Adrien. Marinette wasn't sure if he had coincidentally appeared at the perfect moment in her life, or if it was just sheer luck, but now she couldn't imagine not having him around.

Adrien moved into the kitchen, a nod and a warm smile inviting her to follow him. "I visited this amazing restaurant whilst I was there, and I've always said I would go back one day."

Her heart danced in her chest. Restaurant? "Can you remember which it was?"

He shook his head as he made to fill up the kettle. "Unfortunately, no. But I do remember the chef's name. Wang Cheng."

Unable to stop herself, Marinette chuckled. "That's my great-uncle."

"Wang Cheng? No way."

"Yes, way! That's who I was staying with when I went there."

Adrien turned, leaning casually against the counter with his arms crossed, a glint of excitement in his eyes—his action subtly emphasising the muscles in his biceps. Marinette's heart skipped a beat. Oh, dear Lord, she thought, trying to keep her cool despite the unexpected surge of attraction. "Are you telling me we might have been in the same place at the same time?"

"Maybe. Who knows?"

Adrien continued grabbing mugs and tea from his cupboards. "Just think of how many times we might have crossed paths and not realised."

"I don't think you'd have remembered me. I don't stand out in a crowd."

Adrien returned to his spot, casually leaning against the counter with the effortless charm of a seasoned model, his eyes sparkling with a rare green hue that seemed almost otherworldly.

"I have to disagree with that statement," he remarked, his tone playful. "You're definitely memorable, Miss Dupain-Cheng." Marinette felt her cheeks flush at his words, her heart doing some kind of somersault at the unexpected compliment.

A crackle of something electric hung between them, her mind swirling with images that felt just out of reach. A hand extended in friendship, a comforting shoulder to lean on, a silent promise of protection. It all felt strangely familiar, as if she had experienced this before.

A throb began in the back of her head, knocking her off balance slightly.

"Woah," Adrien said, stepping forward to catch her. "I think someone needs to go to sleep." He smiled, letting go of her and to hand over her drink.

"I feel like the world's worst house guest." She laughed, taking the mug from his hands.

"Don't worry about it. Come with me."

He led her down the hallway, opening a door to a rather gorgeous boutique looking room. "It's not much," he said, "but I hope it'll be okay?"

Not much! Marinette's eyes widened as she scanned the room. It was powder blue, and gorgeous. The soft tones of the pastel shade mixed in with the white walls deliciously and suddenly she had a need to redecorate her entire apartment.

"This is stunning." The furniture was white and antique looking, almost as though he'd pulled it straight from a royal palace.

"Thanks," he said with a wonderful lopsided grin. "There's some of my old clothing in the drawers, so please help yourself. Oh, and let me know if you need anything. You can text me, or shout for me, I don't mind. I'm just down the hall."

"Thank you," Marinette responded with a slight chuckle.

"Goodnight then," Adrien said awkwardly, hovering in the doorway. He looked uneasy, like there was something bothering him. He glanced at her before he looked at the walls and then her again, extra attention given to her eyes.

"Is everything okay?" she queried, her bottom lip being held hostage by her top teeth. Was he going to kick her out?

"The blue," he said, matter of fact.

Was she meant to know what that meant? "The blue?"

Adrien nodded slowly. "It matches your eyes."

Marinette stepped closer, a smile playing on her lips as she lowered her voice to a soft whisper. "Well, it is a good blue."

His hands found her waist, fingers gently curling around her hips as he leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek. "It's the best."

The soft scent of cedarwood, mixed with the night air of Paris overpowered her senses and she couldn't help taking the moment to breathe him in.

"Goodnight, Sweet Thang." His whispered tones were punctuated with a delicate kiss on her cheek. "Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, Adrien," Marinette responded, moving towards him without a clear intent of what she was aiming for. Unconsciously, she lifted onto her toes to meet Adrien's face, tilting her head and pressing a kiss to his cheek in response.

Adrien wrapped his arms around her in a quick hug before disappearing in a blink of an eye.

"Well...wasn't that sweet?" Jumping out of her skin, she slammed the door closed and turned to see Chat Noir lazing on the bed, looking less than impressed. He stood from his resting place, crossing his arms over his body.

"Kitty," she said solemnly.

"Goodnight, Marinette." He walked past her and through the doorway, the sadness in his eyes taking her heart with him.

*****

Marinette could hear her name being called. It started out sweetly, like a soft howl of the summer's breeze, before increasing in both volume and depth to sound more like the incoming horn of a freight train.

Marinette!

Marinette!

Startled awake, Marinette bolted upright in bed, hastily wiping away a drool trail that had escaped down her chin. She locked eyes with her smirking partner and instantly regretted not sleeping in her makeup the night before—or having that dream about Adrien pinning her against a wall.

Talk about feeling exposed, she thought, blushing furiously.

"Good morning, Bugaboo. Hurry up and get dressed so we can get out of this place."

Marinette wiped over her mouth again. This was actually disgusting. "We can't just do a runner. I need to say goodbye to Adrien first, and thank him for letting me stay."

"Oh, purr-lease! He was just doing whatever he could to make himself look good."

Frowning at him, her head tilted to the side in curiosity. "I'm quite sure you wanted me to come with him. Weren't you a little worried for me?"

"Yes, and you've slept here safely, so now let's go. Last thing we need to do is bump into Ken – topless!"

"Are you jealous, Kitty Cat?"

"I've snooped around his apartment, Bugaboo! There's nothing I need to be jealous of."

The indication of snooping didn't exactly fall onto her righteousness side. In fact, it rubbed her completely the wrong way. "You spied on him in the shower, didn't you?"

Chat Noir shrugged. "I will neither confirm nor deny."

"Oh, my goodness." Her hands placed against her ever-warming cheeks. "You can't just spy on someone in the shower!"

"Talks to himself a lot, though. It's as if someone else is there with him. Maybe he's being haunted too."

Marinette snorted. "I thought we agreed you're not a spirit."

"No! You told me I'm not. I, on the other hand, have some news to share. We'll come back to that, though, after we talk about 'Night Stalker'."

Marinette chuckled. "Oh, wow, so you've given them a villain name."

"If the boot fits, right?"

She nodded. "Sure. So did you find anyone?" Marinette whispered, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and searching for her shoes. She was still wearing the joggers and tee she'd found in Adrien's drawers. They were soft and smelled like heaven, and whether he liked it or not, she'd already made the decision she was wearing them home.

Chat Noir shook his head and let out a sigh. "I followed them all the way to the Louvre and they just disappeared into thin air. It was like they were magic or something."

She didn't believe the 'or something'. With everything they had both dealt with since gaining their magical artefacts, there was one thing for certain...what seemed impossible usually was possible.

"Okay, so why the early wake-up call if you have nothing on the stalker?"

He was far too enthusiastic for...what time was it?

Scanning the room for a clock, Marinette's eyes finally settled on her phone, revealing the time: eight am. Woah! She wondered if her host was awake and, if so, whether he'd be okay with her just thanking him for the hospitality and then making a swift exit. The idea of a hasty departure was starting to sound more and more appealing.

"For some reason, I have the need to go to the cemetery."

"Cemetery?" She gasped before placing her hands over her mouth. "You don't think it's because..." She trailed off, not wanting to finish this conversation. Was the need to go an indication that he was actually dead? A cold chill vibrated down her spine. What if he was dead? He couldn't be... He just couldn't!

"I'm not sure. But maybe it could give us an answer, or at least a clue, to who I am."

Marinette leaned forward, her arms resting on her thighs, her head nodding in understanding. He had a point. If the urge to leave was so strong, perhaps it was a sign she needed to follow. But she couldn't shake the thought of him being gone. Where would she go from here if he was? The idea left her feeling adrift, with nothing to anchor her.

Marinette sighed, the feeling of apprehension winning out over any other. "Have I got time to go home and change? I don't fancy wearing Adrien's clothing to a cemetery."

"Sure. Let's go!"

Marinette glanced around the room, feeling uncertain about her next move. She had never stayed over at a man's apartment before. True, they hadn't slept together, but that didn't stop her from experiencing the familiar pang of "walk of shame" anxiety.

Oh, this is a fine mess, she thought, wishing for a quick exit strategy that didn't involve tiptoeing out the door.

Frantically scrambling around the room, Marinette gathered her clothing and tucked it under her arm. One thing was for certain—she wasn't leaving Adrien's apartment in last night's attire. It was one thing to depart in his clothing, but an entirely different matter to walk out in her dress from the previous night.

Pausing at the door, she took a deep breath before opening it. "Let me say goodbye to Adrien first, then we can go."

"He's not here," her partner replied smugly.

"How do you know?"

With a casual shrug, Chat Noir turned his head away from her, suddenly taking interest in the view out the window. "Go check out the kitchen," he suggested.

In a rush, Marinette swung open the door and darted into the kitchen area, only to find it remarkably clean and empty. She circled the kitchen island, her fingers gliding over the smooth, black granite until they came across a small piece of paper.

Dear Marinette,

Sorry for not getting a chance to say goodbye. I've had to head out somewhere. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the cupboards and fridge.

I'll speak to you later,

Adrien

Huh? Marinette wasn't quite sure how she felt about being left alone in his apartment. She glanced around the room, tempted by the idea of snooping a bit while she was here, but then scolded herself for even considering it. He had obviously trusted her, and she wasn't about to betray that.

"Pfft! Why couldn't he have just sent you a text message like a normal human being. Dear Marinette! Seriously! What century does this guy live in!"

"Sometimes it's nice to have a letter," Marinette said, finding the pen beside it and writing a quick thank you underneath, complete with a drawing of a teddy bear waving.

He rolled his eyes. "Sure, Elizabeth."

"Stop!" She started to giggle, heading from the kitchen and towards the front door. "Seriously, most of the letters I've ever received have been from you!"

He gasped, placing a hand on his chest. "That's because I have class! Unlike Darcy here."

With a smirk on her face, she threw him a quick look over her shoulder. "Sure thing, Wickham."

"You did not just call me Mr Wickham! Marinette, come on, be fair! I'm nothing like him!"

As Chat Noir continued to ramble on about how he was more Darcy than Wickham, Marinette closed Adrien's door behind her, checking it had self-locked before continuing home. Though she couldn't deny, there really was something quite nice about having a handwritten note.

*****

Marinette wandered down the path, feeling more out of place than a clown at a funeral...

Actually strike that, because she was actually at a funeral and everyone was dressed like a clown — well, if you could call her partner that.

A car horn blared, causing her to jump and scurry forward.

"Chaton, what the hell is this?" Looking around, Marinette was completely disorientated. She could easily say she had never been to this place before, and looking at the people around her made her head spin.

They approached a massive display poster featuring a blond-haired, green-eyed stranger, coming to a stop in front of it to give it a closer look.

"Kitty, I don't think we should be here." She brushed her hands down her skirt — black for the funeral she thought she was attending — only to view the area again with an anxious feeling in her stomach. Everyone outside the central venue was dressed in super attire, but not just any... Miraculous super attire.

"Just keep walking forward, M'Lady." His arm went to support her lower back, moving straight through it instead.

"Stop doing that," she whispered. "It freaks me out!"

Marinette ventured further into the memorial hall, feeling utterly out of place in her plain black dress.

Surveying the multitude of Ladybugs and Chat Noirs around her, she realised she would have been far better off transforming before entering the venue. At least then she'd blend in, whereas now she felt like a sore thumb sticking out in her ordinary attire.

"This is a memorial service," Marinette hissed under her breath, her attempt at ventriloquism coming off more like an amateur's first try.

"It is! I think I found out who I am. This must be the sudden need I had to come here. This is my memorial."

She glanced around once more... He was everywhere in this place, that was for sure. But Marinette knew her partner well enough to be certain that the man everyone was here to celebrate was not him.

"This is awkward," she said again, walking out the nearest door and into the memorial gardens. Passion flowers lined the arches that led down the pathways, along with a few strangling Chat Noirs and Vesperias hanging around with champagne glasses on the benches, near the fountain.

She marched towards the entrance of the graveyard, determined to escape and either transform or make a quick retreat back to the entrance to hail an Uber.

She turned a corner, finding herself face to face with her partner, alone and out of sight of everyone else.

"Explain, now!" she demanded. Chat Noir moved a hand to the back of his neck sheepishly.

"When I was snooping around Adrien's apartment, I noticed a post on a website called 'The Ladyblog' for this memorial. He was wearing a Chat Noir costume and you can't deny the resemblance. He died a week ago - the same time I appeared in your apartment."

Marinette turned and grabbed a poster from the window behind her. "He's an 89- year-old man, Chat Noir! How could you think that was you?"

"Well..." He shrugged. Shrugged!

"Listen, I've seen you naked many times, and there's not a wrinkle in sight. Just finely toned, man flesh and a ridiculously impressive 8 pack."

Chat Noir's cheeks blushed and his eyes glistened. "Why, thank you!"

"I'm not saying it to flatter your enormous ego, Chaton, I'm saying it because this whole idea was ridiculous, and worst of all, people have seen me now and I'm going to look even more bizarre if I walk away. If pictures of me get posted on The Ladyblog I swear I will hunt you down and kill you myself!"

"You could always transform?" He looked as though he was pleading with her, wanting her to transform and bring out the bug. No thank you!

She closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the window, banging it twice in exasperation. How did they keep ending up in these situations? It was one thing to turn up at someone's memorial, but turning up when you were in the wrong outfit - plus the added issue of not even knowing the man - was just something else.

Seriously, what was Chat Noir thinking?

"Marinette?"

Oh great! Someone knew her here! Great! Great! Great! Great! GREAT!

"Marinette? Are you okay?" The voice was smooth, and caring and, oh god, she knew exactly who it was.

If anything was going to make this moment more excruciating, it was the arrival of one Adrien Agreste, looking all wrapped up in leather and waving a baton...

Wait, no...backtrack... No thinking about Adrien and big solid sticks.

Her name was called again, and she suddenly become hyper aware that someone was standing uncomfortably close to her.

"Marinette!" he called again.

She tried to camouflage herself into the window, praying that if she thought really, really hard, she'd become one with the object and she'd become transparent too.

A warm hand stretched out and placed itself on her bare arm, causing her eyes to shoot open and her head to jerk forward, straight into a hardened shell of another. She pulled back, her eyes wincing as she stared straight into the summer hues of Adrien Agreste's eyes. She'd never noticed before, but his irises were surrounded by a lighter shade of green, a spring freshness which gave way to meadow green. His eyes were rebirth, change, the beginning of something new and exciting. The kind of green which blended effortlessly into sky blue.

"Adrien! I am so, so sorry." She was almost breathless as she spoke – afraid to blink in case his eyes changed colour and she couldn't find the blend again. She brought her hand up to his head, looking to see if she'd damaged his million dollar face.

He placed his own hand on top of hers, a warmth which continued to flow effortlessly through her body.

"I'm okay, really! Are you?" Adrien asked.

In response, Adrien brought his other hand up to her head, his face wincing as his thumb brushed over the obvious egg forming in the centre of her forehead. Great!

"Ouch!" Adrien squinted. "I think we need to go and get you checked out!"

She took her own hand back and smiled embarrassedly at Adrien. "Actually, this happens more than I'd like to admit. I'm okay, I promise."

"Are you sure? It looks really sore!"

"Oh wow!" Chat Noir's voice piped up. "He's a doctor now, too! It's amazing what a 'pretty face' diploma can get you."

"Oh shush!" she spat out, Adrien backing away from the sheer ferociousness of her words, his hand wiping over his cheek. Oh, goodness! She just spat on Adrien Agreste.

"I'm fine!" She attempted to save herself. "I promise."

He didn't look convinced at all.

Chat Noir stood beside him, gazing between them both. "Wow, this is awkward. What are you going to do to him next?"

Marinette didn't know what to say. She was here...at a random memorial talking to herself and dressed in completely the wrong outfit...which he seemed to be too.

Maybe he was here for something else and she could jump on that bandwagon. Perhaps there was a fundraiser for something, or maybe someone closer to their age had just died...and she couldn't believe she'd just had such a thought, how unhinged could she get? "Are you here for the memorial?"

The words seemed to take him off guard, his whole body freezing as he looked between the hall and Marinette. His eyebrows frowned. "Memorial?"

"Yeah, for..." She trailed off, not entirely sure who this memorial was actually for. She moved her eyes around to try and find where she'd dropped the poster, but it was in a position that would only be possible if she turned her head down to the floor. Instead, she looked at her partner for help.

He rolled his eyes in response, obviously not overly thrilled with helping her out. He moved to where the poster was and read out the name. "Will Timbler."

"Will Timbler," Marinette repeated with a sorrowful smile and a nod.

"Oh, no! Not Will!" Adrien suddenly exclaimed, his usual joyful smile dropping from his face.

"Oh, Adrien! Did you know him?"

Adrien looked to the floor, shaking his head. His shoulders began to shake and she was worried he was crying - until he looked up with a rather amused smirk on his face. "Nope."

Marinette gasped and smacked him on the arm, Adrien chuckling and faking an injury.

"He's actually quite funny," Chat Noir commented, only to be interrupted by a sudden cheer from inside the building.

Adrien looked past her through the window. "It seems like a blast in there."

"So, if you didn't know Will, why are you here?"

"Simple!" Chat Noir cried. "It's where he buries the bodies of the women who stay around his apartment. You're next, M'Lady! He's freshly prepared the hole for you." As he started laughing, Marinette could feel her eye twitching.

"It's the anniversary of my mother's death," Adrien said with a sigh.

Chat Noir's laughter ceased abruptly, his eyebrows knitting together at Adrien's response. He remained silent, but Marinette sensed that he was already regretting everything he had just said.

"I'm so sorry," Marinette said, her hand itching to reach out and offer comfort to Adrien.

A corner of his lips twitched before falling once again, his eyes sparkling with emotions. "It's okay. It doesn't get any easier, but I'm living with it better now. Anyway, enough about me. How would you feel attending a memorial?"

"We can't just go in, Adrien!" Marinette exclaimed.

"Why not? You obviously know him. I can just be your plus one."

From the look on Adrien's face, she could tell she wasn't hiding the truth very well.

"You do know him, don't you?"

She started to nod, before catching the expression of her partner. "You can't lie, M'Lady. It's obvious he doesn't believe a word you're saying."

Slowly, she changed her nod into a shake from side to side. "No, I don't."

"So why are you here?" Adrien asked, obviously perplexed.

"I thought he was someone I used to know."

Adrien's eyebrows softened, turning in on themselves. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it's not them."

Adrien allowed a soft, gentle smile to play across his lips. "Wrong Will?"

"Wrong Will," she confirmed.

"It's only polite to show our respects, though. As we're here, of course."

She looked up into his sweet cat-like eyes and everything shining back at her was telling her to follow his lead - that he needed this break.

She laughed. "It'll be awkward."

Adrien lifted his eyebrows. "I guess we're not exactly dressed for the occasion."

Another cheer erupted from the hall, followed by a loud announcement over the speaker system. "Gather your groups ready for the superhero quiz."

She smiled, Adrien mirroring hers in response. "Now that sounds like a blast. Are you up for it?"

"Shall we?" He held out his arm to her, her own slotting inside as they strolled down the path, underneath the passion flowers and towards the building.

She hadn't even looked to where Chat Noir was, her senses telling her he would be back later and not to worry...so she wouldn't. She was with Adrien, and for some reason it always gave her a sense of security.

"So, tell me, Ms. Dupain-Cheng? Have you ever crashed a memorial before?"

She chuckled. "I haven't. But you know what they say - there's a first time for everything."