6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Miraculous Ladybug or any other copyrighted materials.

Lucky Us

By: Princess Kitty1

Chapter 6

I have Adrien's phone number.

It was the last thought that flitted through Marinette's mind before she fell asleep. It was the first to greet her upon opening her eyes the next morning. Before she even moved from her bed she turned on her phone and checked her contacts to make sure she hadn't dreamed the whole thing. Nope, there it was: Adrien Agreste, followed by a number.

She brushed her teeth and told her reflection, "I have Adrien's phone number." She picked Tikki up from her desk, straightened out the autumn jacket she'd sewn her, and said, "Guess what? I have Adrien's phone number." She wanted to throw open her window and shout it to the sleeping streets of Paris. She wanted to climb Notre Dame, ring the bells, and tell it to the gargoyles. She wanted to find Chat Noir on the street, shake him, then hug him, then tell him she had Adrien's phone number.

(She'd have told the pigeons dozing on her balcony, but she had a feeling they wouldn't care.)

The only thing better than Adrien's phone number being programmed into her phone was the knowledge that he did not, in fact, have a crush on Alya. It never occurred to Marinette that he might have had a crush on someone else. He wasn't interested in her best friend. All that crying for nothing! She could keep swooning over him—in private of course—without having to chide herself for liking a guy who was emotionally unavailable.

And he wanted to play matchmaker with her.

Marinette sighed a lovesick sigh, slapped her cheeks, then forced herself to focus on the tasks at hand. First, open the bakery. Then worry about the rest.

Like the matchmaking. Throughout their entire friendship Alya had only had two boyfriends. The first, in their last year of high school, had loved himself more than he loved her. The second, in college, had also been a journalist, but made snide comments about how he reported the real issues while Alya wrote celebrity gossip garbage. Needless to say, neither relationship lasted long.

Alya had been so supportive during Marinette's own nasty breakup. Didn't the two of them deserve to be happy? Besides, it was difficult to meet people as an adult without risking picking up some pervert in a bar. Here Adrien had offered up someone whose good character he could actually vouch for.

The bakery phone rang, snapping Marinette out of her reverie. She put a tray of cinnamon rolls in the oven and walked over to the desk. The landline phone was buried under a mountain of papers, calendar pages, and receipts. She swept things into hasty piles and picked up the receiver. "Boulangerie Patisserie Tom & Sabine, this is Marinette."

"Good morning, sweetie!"

"Maman!" she cried, her heart soaring at the comforting familiarity of her mother's voice. "Is everything okay? How's Papa doing? When are we going to have another Skype chat?"

"Everything is fine," Sabine said. "I just knew you'd be down in the bakery and I wanted to say good morning. How are you? Not too lonely, I hope?"

"A little lonely, but not that bad. I can't wait until you come home—not that I'm saying I want Great Auntie Cheng to die or anything."

Sabine laughed. "Don't worry, I know what you mean."

Marinette twirled the phone cord in her hand, letting the giddiness get to her head. "I, uh, I made a new friend," she said. She knew bringing it up in such a way would leave her mother incapable of resisting her curiosity.

"Oh? Who is it?"

Marinette looked over her shoulder as if she expected to find someone standing there eavesdropping, then lowered her voice. "Adrien Agreste."

Her mother's squawk was priceless. A loud commotion ensued—it sounded a lot like a phone being dropped—then Sabine was back. "Marinette, is there something you want to tell me?"

"No! Oh my God, maman. We're just talking." In the bakery, after hours, in secret. "His best friend has a crush on Alya and I'm supposed to meet him today. You know, to see if it's a good match?"

"Alya can find her own boyfriend. Focus on convincing Adrien that you're wife material. Have you been feeding him? I want grandchildren, Marinette."

"I'm hanging up now," Marinette said.

"Wait!" She lifted the receiver again. "Will you please put out the signs reminding our customers that we'll be closing in two weeks?"

Bakeries in Paris were required by law to close for one month, and the Dupain-Chengs had their turn in August. Before the design competition had been announced, Marinette worried she would have nothing to do during her vacation. Now she'd be lucky to get out of the house at all. She thumbed through the stack of papers on the desk, then pulled open the nearby filing cabinet. The laminated signs were tucked into a folder labeled Vacation. "Found them," she said.

"Thank you, sweetie. We'll Skype on Sunday, okay?"

"Sure thing."

"Invite our new son-in-law."

"Bye, maman!" Marinette hung up and let out a high pitched giggle. She wouldn't hear the end of it now, but she couldn't help herself. She had Adrien's phone number. A direct line right to him! And legitimate excuses to text him!

Thanks to her mood, the next few hours flew by. Her morning shift employee, a college-aged girl named Sophie, arrived and they went to work setting out the day's bread and pastries. Her cell phone chimed at exactly 6:45.

x.x.x

Chat NoirRE: 2015Just Now

Good morning, buginette! Isn't it a beautiful day to sit back, relax, and pawnder entering Gabriel Agreste's design competition? Don't you agree that your few scraps of free time would best be spent listening to your dearest friend Chat Noir talk you into it? "Chat Noir?" you ask. "Isn't that guy full of great advice that should be taken one hundred percent of the time? Also, aren't his jokes hilarious? And isn't he, like, stupidly handsome?"

Aww shucks, Ladybug, you're making me blush!

x.x.x

"What's so funny?"

Marinette looked up at Sophie, her hand pressed to her mouth. "Nothing, just a stupid joke someone posted on Facebook."

x.x.x

LadybugRE: 20152 minutes ago

Don't freak out.

You aren't hallucinating.

This is a message from me in the morning.

Now that I've done all the gushing for you, maybe you can respond like a normal person?

There isn't even a set date for the competition yet.

Calm down.

x.x.x

Adrien stared at his phone. The bathroom faucet ran. Half his face remained slathered in shaving cream. And there was an email from Ladybug on his phone before noon.

When he'd seen her message about the design competition the previous night, he had tried very, very hard to remain sane. As far as Chat Noir responses went, last night's rated high on the tame scale. This morning's, not so much. He attributed that to the hours in between, which he'd spent staring at his bedroom ceiling, wide awake, as chaos unfolded in his mind.

Ladybug was considering entering his father's design competition.

The real, flesh and blood Ladybug.

The woman behind the name.

Meeting her in person was not a "maybe" anymore, it was a certainty—well, as long as she got far enough in the design competition, but in Adrien's mind Ladybug had already won it. He'd seen her work. Hers were the kind of designs that forced his father to acknowledge his pleasure with a monotone hum.

Adrien cut off the sink and continued shaving. What would the real, flesh and blood Ladybug think of the face staring back at him in the mirror? If she referred to his father as her hero, she must have known who Adrien was. A shiver ran through him. Ladybug had potentially seen his face before. But why was that so surprising? His face had been plastered on billboards and magazine ads for years.

Plagg walked into the bathroom, stood beside him, and meowed. Adrien rinsed his face before picking him up and tucking him under his arm on the way to the closet. He'd gotten this far. He'd risked his life by pissing off his father and lived to tell the tale. Ladybug had to enter the competition, especially when next year's competition hinged entirely on his performance this year. He flipped through his clothing options while Plagg purred against his side.

Ladybug. In the flesh.

He sighed a lovesick sigh. God, I'm pathetic, he thought happily.

The bedroom door swung open, startling Plagg, who squirmed until Adrien dropped him. The scent of expensive perfume reached Adrien before Chloe appeared in the closet doorway, her hand on her hip. Adrien let out a falsetto scream. "Chlo! I'm naked!" he cried, covering his bare chest with his arms.

"Oh, shut up. It's nothing I haven't seen before." She shoved him aside, ignoring his grin, and scanned his closet. "Let's see, it's a press conference so you want something that says I'm-a-model-but-I-can-run-a-business-too. If you look young and innocent they'll forgive your mistakes. But if you look too young and innocent they won't take you seriously. You can drop the towel, by the way. I know you've got boxers on under there."

"Yes Mom," Adrien said just to irritate her.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "What are you so happy about? It's too early in the morning to be happy."

"How would you know? You're never happy." She shot him a severe look. He smiled innocently and swooped in to kiss her cheek. "I appreciate the help."

"Of course you do."

"If you must know"—he caught the pair of pants she threw at him—"I am trying to hook Nino up with an entertainment reporter."

Chloe made a disgusted noise. "Sounds like they're perfect for each other already."

"It was love at first sight! For him. Possibly for her, too, but she doesn't know it yet."

She turned and pressed a shirt into his arms, then moved past him to the rack of silk ties. "Adrien," she said, "the hopeless romantic thing was cute when we were kids, but you have relationship experience now. It's okay to admit that love is a sham and sex isn't that great."

Adrien slipped the shirt on and put a hand on Chloe's shoulder. "I will pray for you, Chlo."

She shrugged him off. "Whatever." She turned, held two different ties up to his shirt as he buttoned it up, then tossed one behind her and slung the other around Adrien's neck. "How are you feeling? Nervous?" He nodded. "Don't be. You're gorgeous and you're in charge. Keep repeating that to yourself and you'll be fine."

Adrien gave her a goofy smile. "Why aren't we dating again?"

"Because we drive each other insane." She patted his cheek and nearly tripped over Plagg on her way out of the closet. Her temper exploded. "Move, you hideous mongrel! Why haven't I had cats banned from this city yet? Good for nothing, flea-bitten, fur-shedding, disease-spreading…!"

Adrien followed Chloe into the hallway, where they found the secretary Colette on her way to tell him everything was going according to schedule and his car was downstairs. "You're a lifesaver," he said to her, because he'd realized early on that Colette wasn't used to hearing praise and reveled in it.

"How do you put up with her? She's like a puppy," Chloe said when they were out of the house. She used to say those things to people's faces, but during her brief stint as Adrien's girlfriend he'd begged her to be nicer to others—it was part of the reason they broke up. He was glad to see some of it stuck. "We're going to Tom and Sabine's, right?" she asked.

"After we pick up Nino."

Chloe stopped walking. Adrien hooked his arm through hers and continued to pull her along. "Come on," he said. "I'll buy your coffee."

x.x.x

Chat NoirRE: 20155 minutes ago

I'm insulted that you think I wouldn't respond like a normal person.

By the way, would you like a summer or winter wedding? I'm quite partial to spring.

x.x.x

Marinette slipped her phone back into her pocket. Why did she even bother with him?

At 8:15, the shop door opened and Adrien walked in with Chloe Bourgeois—his usual Wednesday company—and a man Marinette didn't recognize. Dark skinned, glasses, dark brown hair that looked like an attempt had been made to comb it, a little taller than Adrien, and a smartly coordinated outfit. He wasn't bad looking. Cleaner cut than she expected a professional DJ to be, but they were headed to a press conference. And—bonus points—he seemed to be having an argument with Chloe.

"…and all I'm saying is you don't have to be such a massive bitch every minute of every day. There's this thing called human decency—"

"Adrikins, are you going to let him talk to me like this?" Chloe simpered. She latched onto Adrien's arm and shot the man, who Marinette guessed was Nino, a scathing glare. "I can have you arrested, you troglodyte."

"Ooh, nice one. Did you pick that up from a word-of-the-day calendar?"

Adrien politely extracted Chloe from his arm. "Why don't you two order first?" He pointed at the dessert case. "I'm going to browse."

"Gladly." Nino leaned against the counter with a charming smile. "Good morning, mademoiselle. I would like to try your pain au chocolat." He jabbed a thumb in Chloe's direction. "And she'll have anything as long as there's alcohol in it."

Marinette definitely liked him.

Chloe shoved Nino out of the way. "I will have my usual," she said, "prepared by you, Marinette, because none of your employees seem to know exactly how I like it."

Marinette reached beneath the counter and produced a coffee cup, lidded and plugged. "It's extra hot. I made it a minute ago."

Chloe blinked, clearly taken aback by her efficiency, then picked up the coffee cup. "Yes. Well. Adrikins is buying," she said as she headed for their usual table. Marinette watched her go, wondering what it would take to get a thank you out of her.

Nino stepped back up to the counter with bills in hand. "I'll pay separately for mine," he said.

"You don't have to do that." Adrien stood by his side now, pulling his own wallet out of his back pocket. "I'm paying for Chloe's, I might as well get yours."

"Dude, you're kind of my employer."

"My father is your employer."

"It's weird!"

"Then don't think about it."

Marinette watched them volley excuses back and forth. She had to admit she was enjoying herself. It was one thing to have her crush standing in front of her, and another to watch him interact with his best friend. You could tell a lot about a person by how they treated their best friend, which in this case was poking him in the chest and threatening to fire him if he didn't let him pay for breakfast.

Sophie held out a plate with Nino's pain au chocolat. He took it and pressed the money into Sophie's palm before Adrien could stop him. "Keep the change."

Adrien scowled at him as he passed. He shook his head and sighed, then looked at Marinette, his expression hopeful. "So what do you think? Does he pass inspection?"

Marinette checked to make sure Sophie had wandered away. Then she reminded herself for the hundred-thousandth time that morning that she had Adrien's phone number. Confidence surged through her. "Still need more data," she said. "I'll swing by your table before you leave." She noticed the only thing he ordered was a plain buttered croissant; he must have been nervous about the press conference. She rang him up, retrieved the croissant, and handed it to him with a smile. "Good luck today," she said.

Adrien blinked, mildly surprised, but he smiled back. "Thank you."

I have your phone number, she almost told him as he turned around and she let herself go weak in the knees.

There were two more customers after Adrien, then Marinette left Sophie in charge of the register and stepped out into the dining area. She went around greeting her regulars—who expressed their dismay at the bakery's upcoming closure —accepting compliments, and meeting new customers. When she reached Adrien's table, Chloe's face was bright red with rage, Adrien had his face buried in his hands, and Nino looked perfectly happy. Clearly an argument had just ended. "How is everything?" Marinette asked.

Nino pointed to his half-eaten pain au chocolat. "Dude," he said, "now I know why Adrien risks his personal trainer's wrath to come here three times a week. This is delicious. It's like I've never had pain au chocolat before today."

"My father will be so happy to hear that! It's his recipe," Marinette said.

Adrien surfaced from his hands. "Marinette's parents are in China taking care of a sick relative."

"I got a call from maman just this morning. She passes on her greetings."

Nino swallowed another bite of his pastry. "If everything here is as good as this, I'm going to have to tag along more often."

"Please don't come on Wednesdays," Chloe hissed.

"I will come on Wednesdays just to spite you."

"I will make your death look like an accident."

Adrien arched an eyebrow at Marinette. She nodded once, and got a repeat performance of his brightening expression from the day before. It was like watching the sunrise. She turned to Nino. "I do hope I'll see you again soon, err, what was your name, monsieur?"

"Nino Lahiffe." He held his hand out and she shook it.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It's very nice to meet you." She stepped away from the table. "Monsieur Agreste, Mademoiselle Bourgeois, always a pleasure to see you two."

Chloe grunted and lifted her hand in a sort-of wave. Adrien was much more cheerful about his.

Marinette walked back to the counter, wondering what he would do now that she'd signaled her approval to start the matchmaking. She had her own role to play, of course. If Nino screwed up his first impression it would be up to Marinette to tell Alya he'd been perfectly nice to her. And rude to Chloe. Alya hated Chloe. The enemy of her enemy must be boyfriend material—wasn't that how the saying went?

Marinette's phone chimed a few minutes after Adrien left. She checked the screen and her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

One new text from Adrien Agreste:

You're the best! :)

Marinette ran into the kitchen where she could squeal and stamp her feet in private.

x.x.x

LadybugRE: 20153 minutes ago

How about a summer wedding in the country?

By the end of the day, we'll both be hot and bothered.

x.x.x

"Dude, you all right? Your face is super red."

Adrien stuffed his phone into his pocket. "Fine. I'm fine. More than fine. Phew, we here already? That was fast. Let's get this press conference over with!" He was out of the car before Nino could ask any more questions. Surely Ladybug hadn't—she didn't really mean—her intention was not to flirt with—oh boy.

Lucky for him the conference was being held at Agreste HQ, where things like romance and happiness and sexual excitement went to die.

The woman at the front desk greeted Adrien, Chloe and Nino with the stoic professionalism his father demanded from all his employees. As they walked down the hall, Nino leaned closer to Adrien. "Do you think she's here yet?"

Adrien shot him a sly look. "You're not going to run away on me, are you?"

"Of course not." Nino fidgeted with his shirt cuffs. "But what do I say to her? I mean, what if she doesn't even remember me? What if I choke?"

"Then sitting next to her for half an hour is going to be pretty uncomfortable."

Nino stopped walking. "You didn't." Adrien shrugged. "Please tell me you didn't."

He had. The seat reserved for Zag Weekly's Alya Cesaire was conveniently located beside the seat reserved for Director of Music Nino Lahiffe, and it was occupied. Adrien clapped Nino on the back as he stood petrified in the doorway of the conference room. "You've got this," he whispered.

Chloe shoved Nino forward. "You're blocking the entrance, you oaf."

"Manners, Chlo."

"Please get your ass out of the way."

"Close enough," Adrien murmured as he walked over to join Colette and Nathalie, who waited for him at the back of the room. He'd done all he could: strategic seating assignments, obtaining Marinette's permission, and clothing advice. It was up to Nino to take care of the rest.

x.x.x

Chat NoirRE: 201528 minutes ago

…

Who are you and what have you done with the real Ladybug?

x.x.x

The competition would not deviate from the formula of its predecessors. Submissions would be accepted from the first of August to the end of the second week. A team of people would then weed out submissions that didn't meet the posted criteria, and the rest would be sent to a panel of judges who were intimately acquainted with Gabriel Agreste's tastes. Each judge would choose their top designs, leaving ten entrants in the competition. Those ten would then be assigned a male and female model who they'd have to dress in entirely new designs for the finale, a runway show held at Agreste HQ. Gabriel Agreste, live and in person, would choose the winner from among them.

Adrien was in charge of putting the competition together, strictly behind the scenes. He would not be on the judge's panel. The most contact he'd have with any of the contestants would be to hand a bouquet of flowers to the winner and congratulate them.

No, his father had not passed the reigns to Adrien because he was secretly battling some illness.

No, Adrien had not been put in charge due to Gabriel's waning interest in the competitions.

No, his father was not available for comment; he was a busy man.

No further questions.

The press conference lasted only half an hour, and by the end of it Adrien wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. But his schedule didn't allow for it. Next he had a meeting-slash-brainstorming session with the designers in charge of setting up the stage for the finale, followed by a meeting with the caterers for the after party, then dinner, then a Skype call with one of the judges: a high maintenance designer from Milan who had a list of demands to be met upon his arrival in Paris.

If Adrien's father had been trying to teach him a lesson, he'd succeeded.

On his way out of the conference room he glanced in Nino's direction and found him chatting with Alya, his expression slightly panicked, hers friendly. What Adrien wouldn't give to be able to eavesdrop. Nathalie and Colette were in the hall waiting for him. "How did I do?" he asked.

"Splendidly, Monsieur Agreste," Colette assured him.

Nathalie's answer was to hold up her tablet. Its screen displayed Gabriel Agreste, his expression as neutral as his assistant's. In the background, the New York City skyline went on forever. "Hello Adrien. That was a competent performance."

Adrien's posture instinctively straightened. "Thank you," he replied, though he wasn't sure if it was meant as a compliment.

"You look surprisingly refreshed for having just conducted your first interview as our brand's chief representative."

Now he allowed himself to puff his chest out, his smile turning smug. "Some people work better under pressure."

"I see. Then you shouldn't mind a few added responsibilities," Gabriel said.

He deflated. "Uh…"

"During the first week of August we will be filming a commercial for our newest men's fragrance at Chateau Margaux. The staff has been informed. Colette will take over your competition duties until your return and forward you anything that needs to be read and signed. Nathalie shall accompany you."

"But—"

"It should be no trouble for someone who works so well under pressure," Gabriel said, his voice like steel.

Adrien suppressed a sigh. Why did he do that? Why did he have to showboat when he knew it would only end in punishment? "No trouble at all," he said.

The call ended without a goodbye on either side. Adrien turned in time to see Nino walking out of the conference room alone and excused himself. He had five minutes to get a full report. "Hey," he said as he approached, "how'd it go?"

Nino shrugged. "Oh, you know, better. I was able to talk to her this time. She remembered me from the other day."

"Did you ask her out?"

He slumped back against the wall. "No." He took off his glasses and swept a hand over his face. "I chickened out. And anyway, just because she's willing to hold a conversation with me doesn't mean she's interested." He groaned. "This sucks, dude. She's even cuter up close."

Adrien gave him a pitiful look. "Maybe the setting was all wrong. That's my bad. A professional reporter wouldn't flirt on the job."

"Well, it's not like I have an excuse to meet her in a casual setting," Nino grumbled.

Adrien's eyes widened. An idea struck him with the speed and force of a lightning bolt. He resisted the urge to hug Nino. "A casual setting," he repeated with a growing smile.

Once again his new scheme depended on Marinette's participation. But if he could get her in on it, a casual setting would be the easiest thing in the world to obtain.

x.x.x

LadybugRE: 201551 minutes ago

If you can't take the heat, stay out of the kitchen.

(The real Ladybug is up on Cloud Nine, having the party of a lifetime. Please leave a message after the beep. Beeeeep.)

To Be Continued

A/N: Today's chapter was brought to you by Adrien's Pain and Suffering. When things are going too well for your sunshine child, be sure to knock him down a peg to remind him of his place in the world.

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