PLAGG ZIPPED PURPOSEFULLY ACROSS PARIS, heading straight for the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

When he phased into the bedroom, he found Marinette typing out a scholarship application on her laptop, the morning sunlight falling in puddles on her pink carpet.

He was unapologetic when he yowled, "Marinette!" and startled all the kwamis playing around her.

So far, he didn't think Ladybug knew about what Adrien had done—transforming into the Familiar to interrogate his father—but when she did, it would be hard to explain away. Adrien had fallen asleep instantly after returning to the hotel, exhausted from the emotional burden and the magical expenditure of the day. He was still fast asleep when Plagg left that morning.

Plagg hadn't been able to stop thinking about those words—you don't know love, so you will never know heartbreak—and getting riled up. How dare Adrien say that? Sure, he wasn't thinking clearly after the shock discovery of his mother, and maybe romance was mysterious territory to Plagg, but he knew what family was. All his kwami brethren.

The years without Nooroo and Duusu. The months tending to Adrien while he braved everything alone. Was that pain not heartbreak?

Was this, his being here right now, not what humans called love?

"I'll come straight out and say it," Plagg babbled. As he landed on Marinette's open, waiting palm, he noticed her brows pinching closer and closer together, increasingly worried and confused. "Chat Noir did something that may make you mad and when you find out, I need you to forgive him."

"What? What happened? Where did he go after the Agreste mansion yesterday?" Marinette asked.

Tikki hovered just behind her wielder's shoulder, sapphire eyes wide with warning. "Plagg," she said softly, as if encouraging him to speak up. Be careful, she was really saying. He had to be mindful not to reveal his wielder's identity.

"Um."

Marinette raised her hand closer to her face, peering intently at the inky furball in her palm. "Plagg."

"Look, Chat Noir is going through a rough time right now."

"Aren't we all?" Marinette said, depositing Plagg on her desk. He landed on a stack of prospectus brochures from various universities and design schools around the city, Post-Its and coloured tabs sticking out from the pages. "We're all busy, and we're all struggling. I told Chat Noir, if he wasn't ready to come back to work—"

"—that's why I've come to tell you to go easy on him—"

"—when I find out this thing that may or may not make me mad, which he didn't bother informing me of, and which you won't tell me about in advance?"

"Exactly!" the kwami said again, nodding enthusiastically.

Marinette sighed, an amused but tired smile flitting across her face. "Is he alright at least?"

Plagg considered. For all the things he could have done in Gabriel's presence, Adrien had stayed surprisingly in control. He was way stronger than everyone gave him credit for.

"Yes. I think he will be."

Marinette's cell phone rang then. Plagg peered at the screen, seeing Heloise Hessenpy's caller ID through the Mira-Message app. The judge was calling Ladybug. The fact that she could reach Marinette in live-time without discovering her identity was a marvel; Pegasus' wielder had done a good job.

"Bonjour, Heloise," the girl answered, her voice expanding with authority instantly. "I have not. He did what?" Three beats of silence, growing heavier. "When? How?" Another pause, then an angry outburst: "What?"

He heard an older woman's voice talk at length on the other end of the line.

Marinette kept nodding absently as the interrogation was explained to her, swivelling to pin an accusatory stare on Plagg. Having said his piece, he drifted toward the sunroof, but a gentle pinch on his tail kept him at the desk.

You. Stay, Marinette mouthed.

He chuckled weakly and tapped his paws together. Forgive him? he mouthed back, pouting as adorably as he could muster.

With the phone still pressed to her ear, Ladybug could do nothing but shut her eyes in frustration and groan under her breath.

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What would have happened if she could have followed Chat Noir that afternoon?

She was needed at the Agreste mansion the day—the whole day—Emelie was discovered. She had to deliver the Horse Miraculous to Max, accompany the medics and fire brigade as they magically transported her body to the hospital, and then take Max safely back home. That night, while her parents cooked together and they all crowded into the living room after dinner to watch their favourite quiz show, Marinette wondered where Chat Noir had gone, she worried about Emelie, she thought about Adrien.

Despite all their preparations, no-one knew what would happen in the few seconds between when Emelie's incubator was disconnected from the mansion's power source and when the ICU doctors hooked her up. The transfer, which Ladybug had to stay and plan for, had happened in the blink of an eye.

And Emelie remained stable.

So that's what she'd been doing yesterday. As for Chat Noir?

He ran off. He palmed his Miraculous off to some stranger who showed up at La Santé prison. Said stranger flouted all the procedures of the investigation—no appointment with the prison warden, getting Gabriel's accompanying guards to leave the interrogation room, and not submitting an audio recording of the following exchange—but somehow managed to get more information than anyone else, ever.

From his friend, Chat Noir was the one who provided the complete explanation of Hawk Moth's actions over the last five years. Gabriel's motives, Emelie and Adrien's apparent lack of involvement, the disappearance of the Peacock Miraculous from the safe house. It was all typed up and uploaded in a document to the MM drive.

The Agreste v. Paris case had leapt forward months in progress from that document alone. Because of some stranger, who had apparently discovered an interrogation tactic that no other professional had. Because of Chat Noir.

Heloise had informed Marinette that she'd already spoken to Chat Noir about his unconventional methods—but somehow, the judge was not as mad. Why was she not angrier? Was she just grateful enough for the new information?

Marinette couldn't believe it. She was confused, concerned, livid—as Plagg knew she would be. There was no way to verify Gabriel's statements with no audio recording and no footage from the outdated, low-tech interrogation room.

When Marinette requested the footage from the external cameras, she caught a glimpse of the stranger—the Familiar—strolling up to the prison's administration building. He was about as tall as Chat Noir, if not taller, with inky black locks and piercing, intimidating eyes.

He looked like a walking omen. A shiver had rolled down her spine, even though at the time she'd been watching, far removed from the event, on her laptop, in her bedroom.

What was Chat Noir doing entrusting his Miraculous to someone else? What was he doing keeping her in the dark about everything?

Forgive him? Plagg had asked.

Ugh. Curse that kwami's cute little face. His eyes looked exactly like Chat Noir's.

And despite all her partner's erratic behaviour lately, Marinette knew his priorities were the same as hers: the people of Paris.

So instead of ringing him immediately after hanging up with Heloise, Marinette instead decided to give him time. If he was indeed experiencing some personal problems like Plagg said, then he could tell her face to face at their next patrol.

But make no mistake—the patience that Plagg earned for him was not the same as forgiveness.

She had questions for him, and Chat Noir had better fucking answer.

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Ladybug's yo-yo anchored itself around a street lamp and she jumped from the rooftops.

Her momentum carried her in a low arc along the cobbled street, then up into a somersault in the air. She landed neatly on the rooftop of their usual building.

To her surprise, Chat Noir was already waiting at their rendezvous point when she arrived. Paris glistened quietly before him, casting his lonely silhouette against the golden beams of the Eiffel Tower. She always thought views such as these, poignant and poetic, should have been painted or documented. People other than her deserved to see the city like this.

A fucking shame that she was too outraged to enjoy it.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she snapped, landing silently behind him.

Chat Noir shot to his feet and tipped his head to the side. Usually she'd find it cute, but now it was unnerving. There was so much she didn't know about him. So much she wanted to know.

"Please clarify, my Lady."

"The Familiar?"

"Oh." Some emotion flickered across his face, then it was gone, replaced by a calm smile. "He has a way with words, yes? After discovering Emelie, I thought it wise to get Gabriel's statement and clarify the situation—he was the best for the job. Do you not agree?"

"I agree with clarifying the situation, but you went about it so damn wrong! Do you know how many rules you broke?"

"I did what I had to." He rested his staff across his shoulders and hung each wrist from it. It was such an attractive pose, she knew immediately it was intentional.

"Then at the very least tell me your plan. I could have given you advice, or helped you, or—"

"Or what? How would you have helped me other than stopping me?" Now she could hear it; the hard edge creeping into his tone.

Ladybug forged ahead, refusing to be swayed. "Fine. I wouldn't have let you stupidly give your Miraculous away and send a civilian unprepared into a fucking prison, to interrogate Hawk Moth. Sue me."

"How is that any different from what you do?" he shot back, shoulders stiffening. "You gave your Miraculous to Scarabella. You dole out the Miraculous to civilians all the time—is my case different because I made the call for once?"

"That's not what I said," Ladybug scoffed, keeping her eyes on his increasingly frustrated face.

"That's what it sounds like," Chat Noir replied, walking closer, almost crowding her. "Your judgement is good, and mine is bad."

Ladybug huffed, crossing her arms, tipping her face up to stare him down. "You're putting words in my mouth."

"Alright," he said lightly. "Let's look at the facts. They just pulled a comatose woman from underneath the mansion. Adrien has been locked in his hotel room for three months. You yourself charged me with finding the Peacock Miraculous as quickly as possible, and there are hundreds of victims and families waiting on a charge being laid, and then a trial and then a sentencing. Maybe, just once, your rules aren't the most pressing matter at hand."

Her eyebrows jumped up at the accusation, fury coursing hot in her veins.

Did he think she didn't know how dire things were?

She'd been working this investigation way longer than he had—but they weren't solo agents. Heloise needed a clear channel of communication with her. Her superhero team depended on strict schedules to operate. The rules were in place for a reason.

And Chat Noir was a fucking wild card ever since he returned.

"My point is: you could have at least told me," Ladybug snapped. "Instead of just running off."

"Why? Because you're the Guardian and all my steps must be approved by you beforehand?" Chat Noir released one hand from his staff, the imbalance weight rolling the weapon around his shoulders and to his right side, where he caught it and contracted it.

He took a step closer and gasped. "Oh—oh, why," another step, "look at this. Do I have your consent to step here?"

Ladybug glared openly, uncrossed her arms and pointed her forefinger into his chest. "Stop with the snark."

"Stop treating me like a second-rate hero or like I don't know what I'm doing."

"I'm not!" she yelled. Her pulse was running haywire, blood hot through her limbs, throbbing in her throat, heating the back of her neck even against the freezing night air.

Chat Noir raised his hackles at the finger pointed on him and swept it away, leaning down to tell her: "I pinned Mayura. My decision got the most exhaustive statement anyone's been able to get from Gabriel. Yeah, I make tough calls but I'm still your fucking partner. Your equal. I have been for years."

Partner? Partner?

Ladybug exploded. "Two months! My so-called partner ditched me for two months without even calling once. And you don't think maybe I wanted to know where you went, where you go, what you do, who you talk to and why because—"

Her voice broke. No.

Why was she getting emotional?

Already she could feel the tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. She hadn't really processed those agonising days when Chat Noir abandoned her. She'd used studying, the student council, the investigation, socialising with her friends and working at the bakery to take her mind off of it all.

Now even talking about it—the paranoia, the weakness he made her feel—just made her want to cry out of rage and grief. Punch something and then roll up into a ball. Goddamn him.

"Because what?" he asked slowly, having gone very still.

"Because I'm worried about you. Because I don't want you going AWOL on me again," she seethed, dropping her gaze to the small spot of concrete between their feet. She hated to admit it. She was supposed to be stronger than this. "Because every time you leave me, there's a small, irrational part of me that thinks that was the last time I'll ever see him."

"Ladybug—"

"No! Shut up! You did this to me. I was never terrified of losing you until I actually did. And I'm not fucking over it, okay?"

Why did he make her so vulnerable?

Why had he changed? Ever since he came back, he'd lost his playfulness, his softness. With Plagg's help, Ladybug realised he'd been hiding it well, bringing her ice-cream and cracking the right jokes during their patrols.

Now there was an edge to his voice and posture. They were arguing more than ever. Maybe that was a natural consequence of the stress they were under. Except...they'd never had to clarify if they were on the same page before.

They just were. Working together used to be as easy as breathing. Whatever Ladybug threw, Chat Noir was there to catch. Whatever she thought, he already instinctively knew. If she had a plan, he would follow.

When had they ever clashed like this, so often?

What was happening to them?

She pushed her palms against her eyes, almost like she could physically block any tears from leaking out. Then she sniffed hard, reigning all her emotions tight to her chest. Her vision was clear, trained on the minute distance between their toes, and she fought to get her heart under control.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered. "Sorry. I didn't mean to start crying."

She raised her head and fell straight into those eyes. His peridot eyes glowed at her, the slits widened into nearly full-moon shapes. Ladybug watched his chest rising and falling alongside his heavy breathing, and then traced the tendon in his neck, glancing over his sharp jawline—his mouth.

They were so close.

"Don't apologise. It's my fault," Chat Noir whispered. His breath fanned across her. "If I could rewind and go back to those months, I would kick my own ass and tell him to answer your voicemails."

Ladybug snorted, her voice choked with leftover tears. "Don't do that."

"I will do that."

"Don't," she chuckled, winding an arm around his waist.

Chat Noir looped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest, his body shielding her from the cold wind. "What sort of things did you say?"

"Uh," Ladybug groaned, pressing her face into his collarbone with embarrassment. "I started out professional, trying to guilt you into coming back. Hope you're okay, but this vacation is unauthorised." Chat Noir laughed out loud, his chest rumbling deliciously with the sound. "I made one awful pun and decided wordplay is not for me. And then, in the last one, I think I just said how much I fucking missed you."

"I'm sorry for keeping you out," he murmured, his chin resting on top of her head. As his jaw moved, she could feel the wavering pressure against her hair. "I hate hurting you. If I hurt you, I hurt myself more—you know that, right?"

"I think I'm learning," Ladybug said. "I'm sorry if it seems like I don't trust your judgement or your abilities. I do. More than anyone else I know."

"I think I'm learning," he echoed, turning his head softly, his nose tracing across hers as he did so. "You won't lose me, my Lady. Ever."

She was so near him now that she couldn't look at both his eyes at once. Her gaze flickered, searching his expression for the warmth that used to define her kitty. She found it—buried—and caressed Chat Noir's face, heart thumping hard. Her hand slid along his cheek, cupping his curious, but restrained, face.

"Prove it to me, chaton."

Then Ladybug rose onto her tiptoes and kissed him.

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A / N :

he he. heh....

my intention to tide you over to the next update may have failed. oops.

(if it's not in a week's time, you can assume finals have dragged me back into their depths)