There was always something about dusk that Adrien loved. Be it the orchestrated sounds of the birds playing the encore of the day, or the busy ambiance it created as tourists scuttled down the streets in search of French cuisine and entertainment. Or maybe it was the feeling of anonymity the evening gave to him. A darkness almost like a blanket covering his head and making his face just another in a low-lit sea of people.

...Or maybe it was because that's when he'd had the best times with his partner.

As he weaved his way through the continuous waves of people, he couldn't help the sharp turn of his head every time something red caught his eye. He and Ladybug were still adored by the people of Paris, and although the villains had stopped their attacks on the City of Love, the heroes were still worshipped and idolised. Many tourists still made the journey in hope they might see them, and small children ran around suited and booted ready to fight crime.

He looked down at his finger again, the dull black of his once shiny ring darkening his spirit. He wanted to see his partner - to once again run and dart over the rooftops of Paris, laughing, joking, racing...loving. That was their playground. Their reprieve and break from the super activities they had to partake in on an almost daily basis.

Oh, how things had changed.

A glance at the sky had him marvelling at the stars. They were carefree and prominent, in control of their future and fate – whereas once again he was constrained by his father. He had fought long and hard for financial, physical and emotional freedom, yet, once again, his old man was staking his claim.

Once an Agreste, always an Agreste.

Quickly moving to the side, Adrien wandered in the direction of his father's house, and the bakery he always visited during his fencing training – when he could sneak away, that was. He loved the place. Not only were the delicacies to die for, but the owners had welcomed him into the warmth of their bakery with extra treats and warm hugs. He'd started to go there as much for their company as for the croissants. It had been years since he'd visited the boulangerie and, apart from Ladybug, it was the only other thing in Paris he missed.

He considered his options. He could continue to his old house, grab the suitcase his father had packed for him and then go back home, eat way too many M&Ms and have a Brothers vs Brothers Marathon...or he could go via the boulangerie, before continuing to get his suitcase, followed by an evening at home watching Brothers vs Brother but it with the delectable treats from Tom and Sabine's. Yeah, there was no competition there.

Suddenly gaining a spring in his step, he bounced his way like Tigger through the park, feeling like Charlie about to enter the Chocolate Factory. So many delicious smells graced his presence as he grew closer and closer. He deserved this so much. A little reward for being back in Paris and not hating the place already.

Finally reaching the door, Adrien pushed it open, the smells hitting him like a soft, comfortable pillow to his face. Oh, man! This was what Paris was all about.

He started to look around the counters, only a few items left from what he guessed was a very busy day. He wasn't surprised. This was by far the best boulangerie and patisserie in the area – if not Paris.

His eyes fell on a lone passionfruit macaron sitting amongst a mixture of pink and green ones, his eyes drawn to it and his mouth reminding him exactly how much he wanted this. God, he had certainly made the right choice.

"Can I help you?"

The voice was instantly recognisable. Warmth wrapped around every syllable and a soft, gentle power was hidden behind each word. Adrien lifted his eyes and smiled warmly at the gentle giant in front of him.

"It's good to see you again," Adrien greeted fondly.

Tom Dupain looked him over – almost as though he was seeing a ghost. "Adrien Agreste, is that you?"

"In the flesh!"

Without another word, Tom strode over and wrapped his arms around Adrien, lifting him a solid foot off the floor. "You're looking great, my boy! So much healthier than back in your teen years." He turned to the back door, letting go of Adrien and cupping his mouth. "Sabine! We have a visitor!"

Adrien laughed, the joy of the man helping to fill the hole in his heart. Since he'd left there'd always been this gap, a gap he thought was in the shape of a little red minibeast. But it seemed that wasn't the case. Being here now was filling it in, and, even though he wouldn't admit it out loud, Marinette was wiggling in on it too. He'd been having so much fun with her. She was kind and carefree, and he really enjoyed spending time with her, a friend he always needed.

Tom turned back, smiling widely at Adrien. "How have you been, son? How was your world tour?"

"It was okay. I became bored quite quickly, so ended up applying for Cambridge."

"I knew you were a smart one! I'm happy for you." Tom smiled, clapping his hands together and sending a sprinkling of dust all over Adrien's black tee, and most likely scattering in his hair.

Adrien smiled. Even the thought of people thinking he had dandruff couldn't put a chip in his pleasant feeling. "Thank you. I started a business with my cousin in London, too. I'm here to open a branch in Paris, so I hope you don't mind having me as a regular customer again."

Tom's laugh rebounded from the walls to the windows, a warm comfort Adrien always related to Santa Claus. "Why couldn't my daughter meet a guy like you?"

"A guy like who?" A smaller woman entered the kitchen, her face breaking into a wide smile when she noticed Adrien. "Oh, Adrien! Look at you!" She moved to him, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Nice to see you again, Mrs Cheng."

"Adrien, you know not to call me that." She laughed as she made her way around the counter and started filling a bag with treats. "I hear you're getting engaged. It was in that showbiz magazine... What's it called? Oh yes, Mode Mania."

Adrien smiled and shook his head. "No, unfortunately not. We broke up before I left London. She wasn't the one for me."

Tom and Sabine exchanged a look. In the past, they'd tried to set Adrien up with their daughter, whose name he didn't even know, numerous times. In ways he wished he'd given in to their demands and at least met her once, after all, with parents like Tom and Sabine, she was probably a very nice girl. But there was Kagami, and Ladybug, and then before he knew it he was packing his bags and flying around the world.

Adrien placed his order with Sabine, watching with fondness as she added his chosen treats to the box. If only his father were as wonderful as these two.

Hypnotised by the colours and treats going into his box, Adrien almost jumped from the vibration in his pocket. He pulled it out to check as Tom and Sabine busied themselves, and he couldn't help but smile.

He rubbed a hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide the smile. Why did she think he would know about some random bug? Without looking at the picture too deeply, he sent her a message back.

He willed her to message again. He'd never willed anyone to message in years. Luckily, his wish was granted quite quickly.

Pushing the flattery to one side to bask in later, he knew he'd seen that bug before, but the name was just out of reach. He'd learned about it on his travels in Malaysia during his gap year. Adrien thought for a moment, before googling it, searching for 'bugs that look like leaves' and coming out victorious as his phone was overtaken by the picture of a giant, green leaf bug.

A Giant long-legged katydid.

He started to respond to Marinette before freezing. Something inside told him to change his answer. Deleting the message, he typed something which made himself laugh – even if no one else did.

Plagg stuck his head out of the little pocket on Adrien's tee, complete with a dusting of flour on his head. He looked over the message Adrien's just sent and laughed. "Wow, look who's being a smart-arse!"

Shushing Plagg, Adrien pushed the kwami back into his pocket and turned around to face Tom and Sabine. His phone vibrated in his hand again, and he threw a quick glance of apology at the couple before he checked what Marinette was saying now.

Adrien couldn't help but chuckle. He loved her sass, she reminded him so much of Ladybug once they were together and she fully revealed herself to him – identity not included.

It was Tuesday, which meant Marinette was at quiz night. He wouldn't be lying if he said he was jealous. After all, they did have this weird plus one pact going on and he thought, maybe, it would extend to random nights out with friends – but he didn't want to push it. At least she was thinking about him enough to message him.

He quickly texted back the correct answer, plus a smiley face. Her instant reply was full of gratification.

Sabine placed the box full of treats on the counter, a smile tugging up the corner of her lips and re-establishing the lines at the edges of her eyes. "My daughter always claimed you had the nicest smile - second to Chat Noir, that is. Now I can see why."

He jumped. "What?"

"A smile like that means you're talking to someone special."

"Oh, it's just this girl..." He stretched one hand up and rubbed hard against the nape of his neck.

"A girl, huh?" Tom raised his eyebrows, before handing over the box and crossing his arms. He knew the man was judging him, but he wasn't entirely sure why.

"It's not like that," he defended himself. "She's just a friend. A girl I met at work."

"You said you're a business consultant?" Sabine said. "Where are you consulting at the moment?" Both she and Tom were eagerly looking at him, and he was quite sure this answer was going to be a lot more important than it should be.

"At the moment, I'm working for my father and doing some work at The House of Humphries. I don't know if you've heard of it?"

For some unknown reason, Tom's face lit up, as did Sabine's.

"Did you meet the girl there?" Sabine asked.

"I did. Her name is Marinette, and she's awesome. She's settling me back into Parisian life and showing me the ropes."

"I bet she is." Sabine snorted.

Adrien, feeling uncomfortable, reached into his pocket to find his wallet. What did Sabine mean by that? Was she thinking Marinette and he were...

No! Neither of them would do that. They'd only known each other for a week.

Adrien coughed. "So...how much do I owe you?"

"Nothing, my boy." Tom smiled and walked around, placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him towards the door. "They're a gift from us; a welcome back present."

"Oh, that's really kind of you, Sir."

Tom's smile brightened immensely. "It's no problem at all. And remember, Adrien, you can just call me Tom. Or maybe even Da-"

"Take one of these too," Sabine suddenly interrupted. She scurried over to them with a coffee cup in hand. "It's a special homemade brew. It'll go great with your pastries."

With care, Adrien reached out and took the cup from Sabine's hands, cradling it in one hand as the other had a vice-like grip on the treat bag.

"Anything for our number one customer," Tom said, coming to stand behind his wife and placing a hand on her shoulder.

Adrien looked between them an unnerving feeling taking over. "Well, good evening."

They smiled at him, both lifting a hand with a bright smile and waving to him.

"Come anytime," Sabine said, her smile brighter than a thousand-watt light bulb. "The door is always open for you."

A part of him wondered...if the door was open, why were they trying to push him out of it? "That's...great. Well, thank you for the coffee and the treats. It's really nice of you."

"Well, if you're going to be fam– oomph!"

Sabine jabbed an aggressive elbow into Tom's stomach, the big man almost doubling over from the effects of the assault.

Adrien smiled back at them both (slightly terrified, if he wasn't lying), before turning and walking (running) out the doorway and back out onto the streets.

Well, that was odd!

He continued on his way to the mansion, his feet acting on memory as he wound his way down the never ending streets of Paris. He didn't live far from the bakery, the walk just long enough to steal one of his treats and drink his coffee, but still every step was heavy and filled with dread. He didn't walk around Paris a lot as a child, or as a teen, so having the freedom to roam leisurely back to the mansion was slightly formidable.

He savoured the last few crumbs of a macaron and tossed his now empty cup into the nearest trash can – the trashcan opposite the place he used to call home.

For years, he'd considered the definition of home as the building you lived in. A building surrounded by four walls and decorated with windows and doors. Some people had a big home, others had a small one. A home was basic, impersonal and sterile. How wrong was he?

A home wasn't so much what you lived in, but how you lived in it. The four basic walls weren't just cold brick and hardwood; they were colourful and decorated, personal to the people who lived and loved there.

Love. Now that was a keyword. A home was only ever a home when it was filled with love, fun and laughter. When you couldn't wait to explore every inch because it was yours.

It had been years since this cold, dark building in front of him had felt like a home, and at some point he wondered if it ever actually did. It was black and white, no room for grey...much like his relationship with his father. It was cold and frigid. Dark and depressing. And even with the games and added accessories his father had filled his room with, nothing beat the thrill of the rooftops of Paris – of the freedom Plagg gave him.

Plagg was his home.

As he stood and looked at the mansion, his thumb seeked out the ring on his finger, spinning it around in a need to feel its presence – even if it was nothing more than cold metal wrapped around his finger.

"You have nothing to prove by going in there, Kid. You can just turn around and walk away."

Adrien sighed, his eyes still firmly planted on the large, unimpressive building in front of him. He watched as two girls, who he guessed were around his age, stumbled up to the front gates and looked through, giggling. One started to rummage around in her bag as the other pulled out her phone, flipping it to selfie mode and holding it out in front of her. She began to mess with her hair, flattening it down before attempting to volumize it at the roots.

After a rather frantic search, the one girl had found what she needed, pulling a magazine out of her bag. But not just any magazine. One with his face enlarged and airbrushed to the max. They posed, snapped a picture and then left, laughing and giggling as they looked back at the phone screen.

He observed them, slightly amused by the fact he was there, right in front of his house, and neither had noticed him.

"I need to do this, Plagg. Even if it's just for myself."

Crossing the road carefully, Adrien's eyes remained on the building in front, the shell of his distant family life. After moving to London, Félix and Kagami had taken him in with open arms, showing him how a real family should be. From the late night BBQs in summer, to the wholesome meal at Christmastime, he'd been included in everything — Félix becoming more like a brother than cousin.

Slowly, Adrien walked up the staircase to the front door, his hand firmly in his pocket as he searched around for the key. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in the mansion – literally. He thought time and time again, yet the only thing he could think about was leaving Paris and heading on his world tour before he started at Cambridge. There was no recollection of his father packing their things or him sleeping in his room one last time. It was as though the memories were locked in a box, one he couldn't quite fit his hand in.

The door creaked on its hinges as he opened it. He stepped in and scanned the hallway. He felt nothing as he glanced at his childhood home. Dust had begun to settle on the sheets covering certain items, including the photograph on the wall at the top of the staircase. The house was cold, bare and empty. Not an ounce of life in sight. It was as though the day his mother had died, the house had too, the building becoming a skeleton with no working heart.

"Did it always feel like this?" Adrien asked. Plagg flew beside him, scanning the area. "Pretty much."

Adrien moved his way to the staircase, wanting nothing more than to grab his suitcase and get out of there. The eerie vibes were getting to him and even making him consider transforming and hiding behind his super suit – if he could.

He made his way swiftly to his bedroom, noticing everything had been boxed and labelled — some for him, some for his father's London home and others for charity. He guessed movers would be in soon to take them to their chosen destinations.

The suitcase he'd come for was sitting beside his piano, his one pride and joy in his old bedroom. He walked towards the magnificent baby grand and gently ran a hand over the dust-lined lid, stopping as it hit a label with his name on it — thank god his father wasn't giving it away.

He continued his exploration by running a hand over the smooth ivory keys, a wistful feeling that if things had been different, maybe this house could be more than just bricks and mortar.

Giving the keys one last tinkle, he headed back to the doorway, his suitcase rattling on its wheels behind him. This house could have been a wonderful family home. It probably still could. It just needed a heart.

"This place has always given me the heebie-jeebies!" Plagg said, hovering next to Adrien as he exited the room.

"Tell me about it. Was it always this harrowing?"

Plagg shrugged, before leading Adrien down the staircase and towards the archway of freedom.

Adrien stalled at the bottom of the stairs, his head twisting to look at the closed door of his father's study. A memory fought its way to get to the front of his mind. It was on the edge of resurfacing, yet still too far away to recall.

"Did we go in there before we left?"

"I don't remember," Plagg said with a frown.

Adrien stepped slowly and cautiously in the direction of his father's office. His heart beating wildly in his chest, a deep pulsing he recognised as his anxiety. The atmosphere felt dense, deep, a thick murk surrounding him and his mind unsure if it was real or blocked memories.

His hand reached out, ready to open the door as his phone buzzed in his pocket, startling him and causing him to back away. If that wasn't an omen not to go in there, then nothing was.

Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he turned and walked back to the front door, glancing one last time at the office before he checked his phone.

Closing the door behind him, he didn't even look back as he walked away.