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Once Adrien was settled into his assigned seat on the plane, he looked for something to do.
He started by pulling out the aeroplane magazine in the seat pocket. Yet the interview on the cover was them, plus there was a Gabriel ad on the back, and he put it away with ginger fingers. He tried to recall what other details his passenger pamphlet had contained, outside of its emergency situations information. After remembering that a variety of movies would be available for the duration of the flight, Adrien reached for the screen. He flickered through the selection: Adventures of-- nope. Natura: Flight of the Lady-- nope. Devastation?
The image of the Eiffel Tower surrounded in green flames and black smoke was more disturbing and unsettling than his face on the back and front of the magazine.
Maybe some music? But when Adrien swiped over to that, it was Clara Nightingale’s album. Adrien bit the inside of his mouth; he was in for a long, long flight.
Sighing, his head a mess of emotions and his nerves on edge, he pulled away from the screen and looked back into the aisle. Some of his classmates hadn’t finished boarding, and the seat to his left was still empty. Adrien was excited to find out who his other rowmate would be, since his bodyguard was not the talkative sort. And the person currently walking down the aisle was…
Adrien scrambled to undo the seatbelt, stand up, and slide out of the row. He was eager for a distraction of any kind, and since Marinette was always helpful with her classmates as the Class Rep, he figured he could give her a hand.
“Hey Marinette!”
She glanced up, and her face went from curious searching to wide-eyed surprise.
“What’s your seat number?”
Someone would probably scold him later for running on the plane, but Adrien didn’t care. He was down for anything that took his mind off Paris, insects and cats, and the tiny, red-and-black remote in his back pocket. Adrien picked up her pink suitcase, admiring its white spots and maroon seams, as Marinette stuttered out her seat number.
Honestly, he hadn’t been paying attention. The moment she said his row number, Adrien was excited enough to proclaim: “Oh great, you’re sitting next to me!”
Marinette didn’t look as enthusiastic as he felt, but Adrien was okay with that. Alya was talking, but Adrien turned away to go find an empty spot for Marinette’s bag. Yeah, it was going to be a long flight. Yeah, they’d probably get bored of each other. And yeah, sometimes Marinette acted a little odd around him… But honestly, if he could’ve picked anyone to sit with, he’d rather it be her.
With a grunt, Adrien stuck her luggage in one of the overhead compartments, as close to their row as he could get it, and he shimmied back into his own seat as Marinette walked up, mumbling and holding her ticket. Adrien watched her curiously; his bodyguard had been nervous about the flight, perhaps Marinette was the same? Was she scared of heights?
Perhaps not of heights, Adrien reminded himself. She had a balcony that overlooked the street and the Seine. She had travelled with him as Chat Noir and shown no fear--in fact, she’d been very brave and focused. Perhaps, then, it was the plane itself that was making her uneasy.
I’ll do what I can to help her, Adrien decided as she cautiously sat down.
“Uh… Everything okay?” he asked tentatively, leaning towards her. She jumped, and Adrien watched as she spluttered and held up her thumbs.
“Oh, yeah, yeah! Great!” Her hands fell, Adrien frowned, and he wondered what she was covering up. “Ooohh, it’s just a little hot in here, isn’t it? I’ll just--”
Sometimes, she moved so fast that Adrien could barely keep up with her. Her hands fluttered and moved like birds, and Adrien guessed it was warm on the plane, but honestly, his fingers felt pretty cold. She reached above them, her arms shaking, and Adrien stood with her as Marinette tried to rotate the small, nozzle-like air vents.
“Here,” he whispered, covering her hands with his. She’d been rotating them in the wrong direction, Adrien had noticed. “Let me help you.”
She squeaked, squealed, or something, but the next thing Adrien knew was that he was falling and he couldn’t catch himself in the too-small space of the plane.
His knee smarted where Marinette had accidentally kicked him, and he laid dazed and confused from the fall. The second he realised that he was laying on top of her, Adrien apologised and pulled himself off, hoping to quickly return to his own seat.
“Oh! Sorry, I--”
“No, I’m fine--!”
Adrien wasn’t able to get into his own seat. Instead, as Marinette’s chair came back up, he was forced onto his knees on the floor. He curled up a little, the even smaller space uncomfortable and tight, but what really made Adrien freeze was his heel digging into his back pocket--
--and the tiny, almost indistinguishable mrrew that he heard right after.
Both of them were frozen. Marinette’s once pink face turned suddenly pale, and her hand flew to her purse. Adrien stared, took a deep breath, and presumed that maybe, he was just hearing things. After all, Chat had pressed that button several times to trigger the toy; it was only natural that his brain associated the pressing of the button to the sound of the tiny, black cat.
But now he would have to find a way of telling Ladybug that there was no emergency. Maybe he could transform in the bathroom?
First, he had to make sure Marinette was okay.
Adrien slowly lifted himself from the floor and moved back into his own seat, opening his mouth to speak again. “Are you sure--?”
Marinette glanced at him, her eyes wide, and Adrien sat down. Yet the second he did, the remote in his pocket shifted just enough that he must’ve pressed the button again, because a second mrrew echoed in his mind, and he was pretty sure he detected the vibrations this time.
Or-- the sound really was coming from Marinette’s purse. Her hands had flown to it again, and she turned her whole body away from him to peer inside. Adrien looked away; it wasn’t polite to be nosy, and the contents of a woman’s purse were private.
Yet he couldn’t help himself from glancing to his left, wondering why Marinette was suddenly very interested in the contents of that tiny, pink pouch. Come to think of it, she carried it with her everywhere, didn’t she? And Adrien had definitely seen her talk to it occasionally and…
Oh no.
Oh no.
Okay, Marinette being the actual Ladybug was a possibility. The pieces didn’t quite line up--for one, his Lady was quite articulate and Marinette often stuttered--but Adrien knew more than anyone that the suit offered a great mask to hide behind. But if Marinette was Ladybug, then she was going to try and leave the plane, and then she wouldn’t get to go to New York, and Adrien was realising that Ladybug had left Paris so she could spend time with her classmates on a school trip. And Marinette had to go, because she was Class Rep, and she had talked to his father so Adrien could also go, so while it had been Ladybug who had entrusted Chat Noir, it had also been Ladybug who had--
Adrien took a deep breath.
“I gotta--” Marinette said, abruptly standing up again and nearly tripping over her feet. She caught herself on the seat in front of her. Adrien blinked up at her, and she stared down at him with flushed cheeks. “Uhm, at the plate-- I gotta get off the gane! Forgot something!”
What?!
“Wait!” Adrien stood as Marinette tried to head back down the aisle. She didn’t even look back, but his voice caused several other passengers to look up. “Marinette!”
“Girl, where’re you going?” Alya grabbed Marinette’s arm as she rushed past, and Alya was half-yanked from her seat as Marinette continued walking. It was Alya’s seatbelt that prevented Marinette from going any further. Adrien hurried towards them, and he grabbed Marinette’s other hand. She whipped her head towards him, and Adrien dropped it as if burned.
“Marinette, you can’t just leave,” Adrien hissed, but Alya looked between them desperately.
“You’re leaving?!” Alya yelled, and several of their classmates started protesting in unison.
“Marinette, you can’t leave! The plane will take off without you!” Adrien thought that was Rose’s voice, but he had never heard her sound so concerned.
“That wouldn’t be cool.” Juleka, quiet as usual, so maybe that had been Rose.
“Statistically likely. And you don’t have your ticket on you either,” Max spoke up, and Marinette went back to her purse.
“I do,” she countered. “I just-- I’ll be right back, it’s just for a moment, and--”
“Mlle Dupain-Cheng. M Agreste.”
Mme Mendeleiev stood from her seat and entered the aisle. She crossed her arms over her purple button-down, and Adrien shrank under her sharp, blue gaze. She spoke with such strict authority that even Marinette seemed to back down.
“I must implore both of you to return to your seats and to stop bothering the other passengers,” she ordered. “Or you will both be leaving the plane. Is that understood?”
Adrien could see the conflict in his Lady’s head. An actual chance to leave the plane and answer Chat’s message, to protect Paris and handle the (supposed) emergency? But at the cost of Adrien’s own freedom, whom she had gone out of her way for, just so he could travel to New York City with the rest of his class?
He nearly took the chance. Maybe he’d be able to explain this mess once he was off the plane, alone with her, and able to grovel for forgiveness outside the public eye.
Marinette, however, didn’t take it.
“Yes, Mme Mendeleive,” his friend--his Lady--mumbled, looking to her shoes. Adrien moved out of her way as she passed, and the two of them slowly retreated back to their seats. The Gorilla didn’t stir upon their return.
But Adrien was mortified that when he sat back down, her purse gave another, tiny mrrew!
“H-Hey,” he tried, leaning towards her as he held back the urge to fidget. Marinette was startled, and Adrien hastily apologised. “S-Sorry! I just--”
“It’s okay,” she mumbled, but Marinette didn’t look okay in his opinion. Her forehead was furrowed in worry, her hands were tightly clasped together, and the line of her mouth was firmly set.
“I, uhh…” Adrien scratched at the back of his neck, wondering how he could broach the subject. Any subject. Above them, the seatbelt light clicked back on. “You didn’t want to leave the plane because… because of me, right?”
“What?” Marinette spun towards him. Her eyes, as blue as a pristine morning sky--no, Adrien, not now--looked him over, trailing over his expression and posture, before she frantically shook her head. Adrien could feel his own face growing as hot as hers, and suddenly, he understood her need for more air conditioning than the plane provided. “No! No no no, not at all, definitely not, because you’re such a lovely-- cuddly-- bubbly! Person! Yeah!” She tried to smile, but Adrien had never seen Ladybug smile like this, and his heart stuttered. Hard.
Was this why Marinette was so odd with him? No wonder Ladybug acted completely different around Chat. Did he make her uncomfortable? What could he do to change that?
Adrien could almost hear Plagg screaming advice at him, and Adrien tried to breathe normally as he decided to apply it.
Compliment her. He could do that.
“You’re a lovely person, too, Marinette,” he attempted. “Thank you for staying. I don’t think it would’ve been a very fun trip without you.”
She froze, and Adrien took a moment to process what he had said. Her face turned several shades redder, and Adrien knew he was no better at this rate. They both looked away, back at each other, and away again. While it felt like Adrien’s lungs were compressing, squeezing all of the oxygen out of his chest, she looked like she was taking as deep of breaths as she could to try and calm herself down.
“I think I need to buse the roombath--” Marinette started to stand, and Adrien rose from his seat to stop her, but a flight attendant came up to them.
“We’re getting ready for takeoff, Mademoiselle,” she said, not unkindly. Marinette hesitated, and Adrien collapsed back into his seat. Her purse shook again as the attendant spoke. “You’ll have to wear your seatbelt, alright?”
“I will,” Marinette said, sitting back down. “I’m sorry, I’ll be patient.”
Adrien breathed a sigh of relief as he buckled himself in. Once the plane was in the air, surely she wouldn’t be able to leave? Unless Ladybug had a way of getting back to Paris faster than--
Adrien realised she probably had the horse miraculous, and he hid his face in his hands. The shift in his weight caused Marinette’s purse to mrrew! again, and Adrien tried not to groan as Marinette flinched.
She thought Chat Noir needed help. She thought that maybe, Paris was under attack. She was most likely worried, stressed, and inwardly panicking. Yet all Marinette did was buckle her seatbelt, nibble her lip, and sit silently as the flight attendants came by and started to close the luggage compartments.
Eventually, she pulled out her phone to check the news, and just as the pilot started the takeoff announcement, she opened the app that scanned for Akuma attacks in the Parisian arrondissements. Adrien lowered his hands and watched the app out of the corner of his eye, but no alert showed up on the screen.
He couldn’t tell if the lack of news brought her peace of mind or not. On one hand, it probably didn’t: Adrien knew his Lady, and he knew Marinette, and they were both worriers. If the city itself wasn’t in danger and civilians weren’t being evacuated, the Akuma fight was most likely out of sight. A one on one battle between superhero and supervillain, Chat Noir trapped and helpless, the Akuma getting closer and closer… Adrien realised his imagination was running as wild as hers probably was.
His thoughts were running so wild, he missed most of the announcement. Slowly, the plane taxied away from the gate, out to the runway, and Marinette and him stared at their hands as Adrien’s bodyguard grew steadily restless.
As the plane moved, lurching occasionally and crawling across the tarmac, Adrien tried to think of what else he could do. He had to prevent Marinette from returning to Paris; she would just raise suspicions to her disappearance, and when she showed up and wasn’t able to find Chat Noir, she would be more alarmed. But Adrien also knew that if he didn’t contact Ladybug soon, she’d never be able to truly enjoy her time in New York with her friends. Both conundrums circled around in his chest, squeezing his sternum until he could barely breathe.
He had to think of something--!
“Adrien?”
He jumped, but thankfully, her purse did not meow back at them.
“Y-Yes?” he asked, nervously gripping the armrest between them. He hoped his thumb wouldn’t hit the button like hers had earlier, but at this point, Adrien was beginning to doubt his own grace.
“Are you okay?”
Adrien just sat there, mouth agape.
Marinette was watching him closely again, if not more so than last time. There was a tightness to the corners of her eyes and in her brows that spoke of her deep concern, and Adrien couldn’t formulate words as he came to terms with how deeply caring his Lady truly was. She was most likely inwardly frantic about Paris and her partner, and yet, here she was, checking in on him! Adrien him! Some part of him was going to pass out, and Adrien wasn’t sure yet which.
“I’m…” He had to swallow to properly unstick his tongue from the roof of his dry mouth. “I’m fine. Just felin-- feeling a little nervous.”
“Have you ever bown flefore?”
“Have I… Have I what?”
Either Marinette wasn’t aware she had messed up her words, or she was confused by what Adrien had asked. Her face scrunched up--oh wow, that was cute--and she took a deep breath before trying to speak again.
“Have you ever flown before?” Marinette asked, stressing the syllables she had switched beforehand, and Adrien felt guilty that he had had to ask her to repeat her question.
“Uhm, yeah!” he answered. “Not on a commercial flight like this--” Adrien gestured towards the rest of the plane. “But we used to fly to London and Nice and Bari.” His words faltered in his mouth though as Marinette’s next question came.
One simple word that made him hesitate.
“We?”
Adrien sighed sadly. “Y-Yeah,” he looked back at his lap, and then he forced himself to look at her. The plane slowed to a stop, and the pilot’s announcement that they would be taking off shortly came over the speakers. “Just my parents and I. Sometimes Nathalie, but not usually.”
She must’ve understood. Adrien wasn’t sure how many pieces to the puzzle she had collected, but her hand, small and petite and slightly cold, rested gently on top of his. Instinctively, Adrien turned his over on the armrest, and their palms pressed together. Marinette tightened her grip on his hand, and Adrien shuddered as anticipation ran through him.
The magic masking her identity must’ve been broken once he had made the proper connections, because there was no way he could mistake his Lady for anyone else now.
“Are you scared?” she whispered, and Adrien squashed the impulse to faint. Or whimper. Or otherwise not act anything short of normal.
“A little.”
“Is this alright?” Marinette asked, her tone just as comforting as her thumb sweeping over his knuckles. Adrien exhaled and squeezed her hand, hoping that his palms weren’t too sweaty; at least if they were, he had a good excuse.
“It’s f-fine,” he replied, wondering if he’d be able to withstand holding his Lady’s bare hand for the duration of takeoff.
They had no more time to exchange words, for the plane had started to move again. This time, however, it picked up speed, galloping across the concrete runway in an attempt to launch itself into the air. Adrien could feel the vibration and roaring of the engines in his bones, and the gathering speed forced the passengers further into their seats.
Sitting at the centre of the plane was an odd experience, Adrien reasoned. He had always been able to watch the city fall away, but this time, his only focus was the pale, slim hand wrapped around his, and Adrien found himself grounded to it. He couldn’t have taken his palm off hers any more than an ostrich could achieve flight, and right now, Adrien felt like his own heart could take off at any moment.
His stomach bottomed out when the plane finally gained enough speed and started to rise. To his right, Adrien’s bodyguard grunted and clenched his hands into fists. To his left, Marinette took a deep breath and curled her fingers a little tighter around his. Her thumb trailed back and forth across his own, and Adrien rooted himself in the sensation as the plane climbed up, and up, and up…
As his ears popped, Adrien was forced more into his seat, and he winced as Marinette’s purse meowed again. He shifted forward, hoping to relieve pressure from the remote, but turbulence just forced him backwards again. Marinette was biting her bottom lip so hard, Adrien thought she would break the skin.
“Hey,” he muttered, hoping to distract her. She didn’t flinch as bad as she had before, but she did squeak before turning her full attention on him. “It’s okay that you’re scared, too. You don’t have to be brave for my sake.”
Slowly, the plane started to become level again, but the floor no longer felt as solid as before. Marinette’s grip on his hand loosened with the levelling of the plane, but Adrien’s heart plunged into his belly. She grinned at him, and Adrien tried to smile back, but everything felt wrong.
“I’ve flown plenty of times,” she explained, her voice soft as the pilot’s voice came through the speaker again, letting them know how long until they reached the airport in New York. “We visit family in China every few years, usually when the bakery closes for vacation. That’s a long flight, too; longer than this one.”
Adrien blinked at her, wondering where in China her family lived. “That’s amazing, Marinette. This is the longest flight I’ve ever been on.” They looked around the cabin, at all of the passengers in all of the seats, before returning to each other. “I honestly don’t know what to do with my time.”
Her other hand was on top of her purse, probably feeling for the buzzing of the cat toy inside, but Adrien was adamant to not accidentally ping her again.
“I’m n-not sure either,” she mumbled, but he could tell her thoughts were far away.
Gradually, the plane arrived at cruising altitude, and passengers started pulling out phones, tablets, earbuds, and other gadgets. A child across the aisle was playing on a game console. Someone in front of Adrien pulled out a five-by-five Rubik’s cube. An attendant started to walk around, checking on luggage, seats, and people.
The seatbelt light clicked off.
Marinette let go of his hand, clicked off her belt, and stood up so fast, Adrien thought she would trip again. Yet her movements spoke of determination, ferocity, and responsibility.
Her words didn’t quite match up.
“I’m gonna go guse the-- use the roombath-- bathbath-- bathroom!” Marinette stuttered out, her words tripping over themselves as usual, but a flare of panic rushed through Adrien. As she started to step into the aisle, he half-stood up, grabbed her wrist, and latched on tight.
Marinette’s eyes, big and blue and beautiful--again, Adrien, not now--trailed to where his hand touched her skin, up the length of his arm, and finally settled on his face. His cheeks suddenly felt like they were on fire, and he tried to force himself to speak as she stared at him, confused and scared.
“Uhm,” Adrien mumbled, trying to figure out how to string words together, “Ah-Actually, can you uh, stay? Just a while longer?”
Marinette hesitated, her eyes flickering between him, the faraway bathroom, and her purse. Adrien was trying to think fast, faster than her, but the words that his brain was supplying to his mouth were rushed and jumbled and wouldn’t come out and Adrien wanted to hit himself.
“Adrien, I really have to--”
“Plane,” Adrien blurted. “I’m scared of the plane.”
She looked at him like he had just transformed into something odd and disgusting, like a purple butterfly. Honestly, Adrien didn’t blame her.
“You really are scared,” she repeated, slowly sitting back down. Adrien nodded quickly, glad that she had accepted his lame excuse, and he gingerly sat back down in his own seat, carefully trying not to put too much weight on his backside. “Like…”
He followed her gaze to his bodyguard, who was still wearing headphones. The Gorilla’s eyes were squeezed shut, and his hands were clasped so tight, his knuckles were stark white. Adrien looked back to her, gulped, and nodded.
“Y-Yeah,” he affirmed, feeling like the scum at the bottom of a Parisian sewer as he lied. “Y’know, uhh, small metal tube, we’re thousands of meters in the air… Plus I’m a little clawstro-- I mean, claustrophobic.”
At least that last part wasn’t a lie, but he was still berating himself for the slip.
Marinette blinked at him, bit her lip, and her other hand came over and landed on top of his. Adrien flinched and instantly loosened his hold: he had been gripping her so tightly, her skin under his fingers had paled. “Sorry!” he yelped, trying to pull back, but she held steady. Marinette’s face had shifted into a look of pure determination, and Adrien shrank more into himself.
That was most certainly his Lady.
“It’s okay, Adrien,” she said, evenly and calmly. Adrien was impressed. “I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.”
If Adrien’s soul hadn’t left his body in his earlier panic, it was gone now. A soft whine built itself up in the back of his throat, and his ability to speak fled him entirely. Marinette’s intensity had always been amazing, but with his newly acquired information, Adrien had no idea how to handle it.
“Th-Thanks,” he finally whimpered. She nodded in answer, loosened her hold on his hand, and slid her fingers into his instead. With her other hand, she pushed the armrest up and out of the way, and she coaxed him to sit closer. Adrien felt his lungs compress and refuse to inflate, and her own cheeks seemed pinker, but he gently moved into her bubble, so they could sit with their sides pressed together.
Her head naturally fell to rest on his shoulder, and Adrien hoped she couldn’t hear his heart beating like a conga drum in his chest. After a moment, he tried to allow himself to relax, and Adrien slowly let his head lean atop hers. Her fingers, entwined with his so intimately, tightened and loosened, and it took Adrien at least a minute to realise she was doing it in conjunction with his breathing, coaxing him into deeper and deeper breaths.
This… This was nice. But the lingering fear of why Adrien had initiated this never allowed his heart rate to truly settle, and he remained tense and uneasy for several minutes.
Flight attendants started walking down the aisles, offering drinks and snacks and pillows, and Marinette watched them wearily. Adrien wondered if she was contemplating going to the bathroom again, and how blocked the aisles would be once the attendants passed by them. He knew how his Lady’s mind worked, and Marinette was probably considering her escape route already.
She shifted, and Adrien was forced to shift with her, and her purse mrrew ’d back at them. Adrien sank his teeth into the side of his mouth to hold back any embarrassing sounds, but Marinette must’ve noticed his sudden spike of anxiety.
“If you were so scared,” she asked, her voice quiet. “Why’d you agree to come?”
Ooh, Adrien was going to need a lot of help to get through this conversation. He could feel Plagg giggling in his pocket.
“A friend convinced me,” said Adrien, going with a half-truth. “And I couldn’t let you down, could I?”
Marinette hummed, her brow furrowing. “I didn’t pahnt you to woosh yourself.”
Adrien wanted to cry from how cute she could be, but he forced himself to switch the syllables in his head instead of embarrassing her further. Want. Push. He could do this.
“You’re not,” he said earnestly, shifting their hands so their fingers could be more comfortable. She went with the motions, and Adrien bit back a lovesick sigh. Ladybug’s hand fit so nicely into his! “I mean, Father forced me to come, but if I really wanted to stay behind, I think he would’ve let me.”
Marinette sat up, and Adrien moved his head so she could lift hers. She looked at him, her eyes searching for something, and Adrien stared back, losing himself in hers. They were as blue as larkspur flowers, as blue as brunneras, as blue as the sky after a fresh rain in the glimmering sunshine. The freckles dusted across her nose were light and small and stunningly cute, and Adrien marvelled at them in a way he had never marvelled anything before. His Lady had freckles! Dozens of them! Possibly hundreds!
Adrien felt his mouth go achingly dry at the prospect of freckles on her shoulders, on her back, down her--
“Adrien?”
He blinked, blushed, and tried to remember what she had said.
“I apawlo-- apologise,” he said, hoping that he appeared more innocent than embarrassed. “My ears kept popping; I didn’t catch that.”
She bought the lie, thankfully, and Marinette repeated herself for his sake.
“What are you looking forward to in New York?”
Adrien beamed at her, thankful for the distraction. “I know we’ll get to see tons of cool landmarks, but I’m most excited to meet new people. I want to make some new friends and maybe have a penpal.”
Marinette grinned back at him, and Adrien tried to relax. She was focused on him, tuning into the conversation, and hopefully she would forget about Chat Noir’s apparent distress in the meantime. Yet Adrien had a feeling she hadn’t really forgotten; she still looked anxious when the attendants stopped by and offered them something to drink.
As they talked about possibly visiting the Statue of Liberty, he saw her opposite hand fiddle with the strap of her purse. As they shared their lists of American foods they wanted to try, Adrien noticed she was patting the pouch, as if to calm an anxious Kwami. And as they discussed the advantages of thread versus yarn for the sock puppets, Marinette flinched, and she slapped her hand over the opening.
“Is… Is everything alright?” Adrien said tentatively, but Marinette shook her head.
“I really need to go,” she mumbled, pulling herself away from Adrien’s side. A bolt of panic flashed through him again, and Adrien lunged for her. Marinette dodged his charge and stared at him quizzically. Adrien froze and then settled back into his seat--wincing when that damn cat toy mewled again.
“You don’t have to,” Adrien tried, gesturing to the seat. “You’re welcome to stay here. I promise.”
Marinette smiled at him. “I’m just going to the bathroom, Adrien. I’ll be back. Promise.”
It was the same smile she gave Chat when she told him not to worry, when she told him they could beat any Akuma, and when she congratulated their team on a job well done. And while normally his Lady’s smiles put his heart at ease, this one just ramped up his growing dread.
“You don’t need the bathroom,” Adrien blurted out and grabbed her hand again as she stood up. She stared at him, and so did several of the passengers. “You should stay here instead! It’s nice and comfy and--”
“Uhh…” Marinette nibbled her bottom lip in concern as she watched him flounder onward. “Yes? I do? Really, Adrien, I’ll be right back I just--”
“You can’t,” Adrien said, lowering his voice. “Please, Marinette, don’t leave--”
“I’ll be right back--”
“I need you--”
“Young man,” a passenger across the aisle said. “She’s just going to the bathroom. It’s free right now, she’ll be right back.”
Adrien swallowed another whine. Feeling like a tea kettle, Adrien tried to force his brain to stumble on the correct course of action, but as he ran around in circles and circles, his breathing growing more and more erratic, he realised there was only one thing he could do.
He took a deep breath, morphed his face into a look of pure determination, and stood up, still holding her hand.
“I’ll go with you,” Adrien declared, and Marinette blushed and spluttered. His face also felt too hot, but he ignored it, focusing instead on his plan of action. The passenger who had scolded him before rolled their eyes, but Adrien didn’t care; he couldn’t tell his Lady what he knew, over here, surrounded by people. And if their only place of privacy on the plane was by the bathrooms, he would take it.
“Adrien, no,” she hissed, and with surprising strength, she pushed him back into his seat. Adrien huffed and the toy went mrrew! and Marinette groaned. “It’s an emergency, okay? Girl’s emergency. Super embarrassing.”
“Then let me support you,” Adrien tried to stand back up, but she pushed him back down. When her purse vibrated again, and she looked like she was going to go insane, Adrien broke.
With more resoluteness than Adrien thought he had ever had, he stood up in the small space, held Marinette by her wrist, and pulled her down the aisle towards the bathroom. She stumbled at first, but she regained her footing and followed after him in confusion. Several of their classmates noticed them as they went by, but besides a few raised eyebrows or smirks, none of them said anything. Adrien passed the bathroom and stood at the very back of the plane, beside all the employee lockers and shelves. He was glad that the attendants were out attending to the people; this was the most privacy they were going to get.
“A-Adrien,” Marinette mumbled, her face as pink as her purse. “I d-don’t know what’s wrong, but--”
“I’m sorry,” Adrien interrupted her, turning and holding her gently by her shoulders. Marinette blinked up at him in confusion. “I’m-- I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to. But Father said I had to go and I didn’t want to let you down and--”
“Adrien!” Marinette reached up and held his face in her hands, forcing him to stop long enough for her to speak. “Calm down, breathe. You have nothing to apologise for, you’re just panicking! I only need to use the restroom and I’ll be right--”
“You’re going back,” Adrien mumbled, and she stopped.
“Wh-What?” Marinette gave him a puzzled look. “Adrien, I can’t go back, that’s impossible. We’re on a plane.”
“Not for you, it’s not.” And he dug his hand into his back pocket as Marinette held his face. Slowly, he presented the red-and-black, slim and sleek remote his Lady had given him just the other day. The offending object felt heavy in his palm.
Marinette stared.
As she watched him, Adrien couldn’t help himself, and he clicked the button. The cat toy in her purse meow’d at them so clearly in their silence, Adrien could almost feel the vibrations as it jumped. Her eyes travelled from the remote, to his face, to his hair and eyes and strained smile. She was putting together the features, the voice, the personality, just as he had been doing the whole past hour or two on this plane.
“You--!”
Adrien shrank in on himself, but he didn’t put the remote away.
“Yeah,” he lamented. “Me.”
“I--! What about--! Paris!”
Well, Adrien was glad that at least her priorities were still on straight.
“I couldn’t get out of this trip,” Adrien admitted. “I wanted to tell you, but…”
“But what?!” Marinette whispered and yet also shouted, her hands flailing around her. “This doesn’t work! There has to be someone to watch out for Akumas, someone to take care of the city, to call for us--”
Adrien shuffled his feet, ashamed as she rounded on him again.
“I trusted you to do that!” Marinette jabbed her finger into his chest. “But now you’re not there! Aaah, what do we do…”
She dropped her head into her hands, and Adrien instinctually reached for her. He hesitated, however, unsure if she would welcome his touch again. But he bottled up his fears, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, tucked her head under his chin, and just held her. His Lady needed him to be strong, but Adrien was sure she could feel him trembling.
“I’m scared, too,” Adrien mumbled into her hair, smelling the delicious aroma of her shampoo and perfume. “We’ll figure something out. We’ll have to be very alert for Akumas.”
For a long while, she didn’t move. But then her arms came up and wrapped around his back, and Marinette squeezed him twice as tight as he was hugging her. Adrien sighed in relief, but he tensed when she started giggling.
“Silly kitty,” she mumbled into his shirt. “Why’d you stick it in your back pocket?”
“I put my phone there,” Adrien pouted. “I’ve never had an issue before.”
“You were butt dialling me the whole time!” Marinette pushed back on his chest, and Adrien pulled away with a lopsided grin. “Oh, gosh, when you--” Her blue eyes went wide, and her jaw fell open. Adrien could see that she was running through the events of the last few hours.
“You’ve known since--!” Horror came over her, and she retracted her arms from him to hold her own face. “Ooohh, I’m so embarrassed.”
Adrien chuckled. “Don’t be, you’re adorable.”
She floundered, her hands wavering before she touched her face again. Marinette had to step away from him, and Adrien watched as she paced in a circle in the available space. She groaned.
“You--” Marinette came to stand in front of him again, and Adrien blinked fondly at her. His heart felt warm, despite the chaos and the fear of the last hour or so, and he knew he was satisfied with his decision.
On the other hand, Adrien was still worried about her opinion. She didn’t seem ready to share it yet, and she was still struggling with words, but he forgave her hesitation.
“Me?” he asked, curiosity causing him to lean forward with a smirk. She scrunched up her nose and pushed him back by his, and Adrien giggled fondly. Marinette relaxed, and Adrien felt his heart stutter at the Ladybug smile that graced her face.
Yes. This was her. He didn’t need to see her transform to know it.
“We have to go back,” Marinette explained. “You and I, both of us. We’re going to give out temporary jewels, and they’ll contact us. Then we’ll come right back here.”
“Is that possible?” Adrien asked, but before he could even finish his question, Marinette grabbed his arm, looked down at the rest of the plane to make sure no one was watching, and pulled him into the bathroom.
The room was way too small for one person, much less two. They stood, nearly face to face, and Adrien swallowed thickly as Marinette locked the door. She pulled out a small, red, spherical object from her purse, and inside of it, was a set of black glasses.
Adrien watched, fascinated, as she put them on. They morphed into pink and gold rims, and the horse Kwami manifested beside Marinette with a shake of its mane.
“We have a mission, mon chaton,” his Lady stated, and Adrien nodded firmly. “Are you ready?”
Adrien grinned. “Always. Claws out!”
“Y’know, you and Adrien were in there for a very long time,” Alya pointed out.
They were about six and a half hours into the flight. Marinette had long since returned from Paris with Adrien. After handing Ryūko and Viperion their miraculous jewels, Ladybug and Chat Noir had informed the temporary heroes that they would be in charge of Paris’ protection for awhile. Marinette had resumed sitting in her aeroplane seat beside Adrien, calmer and more focused, and they had discussed everything that felt safe to discuss while surrounded by dozens of people.
Now, Marinette was seated by her friend Alya, and Adrien and Nino were catching up while listening to music. They had tried to sleep a little bit, like most of the plane, but neither Adrien or her had felt particularly tired. Sleep felt impossible next to the unravelling of their identities.
“Were we?” Marinette asked, blinking at Alya innocently. “I mean, m-maybe, but--”
“Girl,” Alya said with a smirk, her tone clearly amused. “You guys were in there for almost a half-hour. You couldn’t have held off until we were actually in New York, right?”
Marinette felt her face go hot. She knew exactly what Alya was implying, but she wasn’t going to give her friend the satisfaction of knowing. Plus, there was nothing to actually tell: Ladybug and Chat Noir had gone back to Paris, handed out some jewellery, and come back here all via the powers of the horse. Marinette couldn’t share that with Alya, and it wasn’t like anything like that was going to happen between her and Adrien--right?
She was still reeling from that, but now that Marinette had had a chance to talk with him freely, the pieces were settling. She still had her reservations, but Alya’s eyebrow wiggling wasn’t going to change the story.
“We didn’t do anything, Alya,” Marinette insisted. “We just...talked.”
“Uh-huh.” Alya crossed her arms. “About joining the mile high club?”
Marinette spluttered and blushed, her eyes wide. “What?! No! Alya!”
But her friend was laughing, and Marinette relaxed. Alya was just poking fun at her, like usual.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Sorry,” Alya said as she wiped at a tear from her eye, pushing her glasses up her face. “But seriously, talked? About what?” Her face settled into a more serious expression that put Marinette on edge.
“Just...stuff,” Marinette deflected.
“What kind of stuff?” Alya grinned, putting her chin in her hand and her elbow on the armrest.
“Oohh, y’know,” Marinette said as she leaned away, waving her hand in the air to dismiss Alya’s sly look. “School, the trip, plane rides…”
“Yeah, sure, okay.” Alya rolled her eyes. “You needed a private place to do that?”
Marinette nibbled her bottom lip. Alya would back off if Marinette sincerely asked her to let it go, but…
Better to give her something to chew on.
After glancing back and forth, as if to make sure the strangers around them weren’t listening, Marinette leaned forward and dropped her voice so only Alya could really hear her.
“He’s just...feeling a little claustrophobic,” Marinette explained. “He didn’t want to admit it, and he’s been nervous the whole flight. Go easy on him, yeah?”
Alya’s face pulled into one of worry. “Surely the bathroom wasn’t a good idea, then?”
Marinette winced. “It…probably wasn’t, I’ll admit, but he needed help. I think the privacy was worth it.”
Tapping her chin, Alya contemplated Marinette’s information, before nodding in understanding. “I’m glad you could be there for him,” Alya said honestly. “You think you’ll be okay to help him on the way back?”
A warmth, fuzzy and small like a cute, vibrating cat toy, settled in Marinette’s chest. She gave Alya the biggest smile she could muster. “Definitely.”
Alya giggled. “You’ve got it bad, girl.”
Marinette laughed with her before looking behind them, back towards where Nino and Adrien were looking through the music selection. Adrien glanced up, met her gaze, and blushed.
“Yeah,” Marinette agreed. “I really do. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”