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Chapter Text

The words hit Adrien's ears like a physical blow, and for a moment he wondered if he was having some kind of auditory hallucination. Surely his classmates hadn't just said what he thought they'd said.

But judging by the animated discussion continuing around him, apparently they had.

"You can't say that, she's a villain."

"Yeah, a villain with impeccable style," Rose said dreamily, twirling a strand of pink hair around her finger.

"Did you see her costume in yesterday's fight?" Juleka added quietly. "The way the peacock feather motifs caught the light? It was actually beautiful."

Adrien looked around desperately for support. "Marinette, tell them they're wrong."

She startled, nearly dropping her sketchbook. "Um, I mean... supervillains aren't really my thing, but..." She bit her lip, glancing nervously between Adrien and the rest of the class. "From a purely design standpoint, she does have a really cohesive aesthetic going."

"Marinette!" Adrien said, betrayed.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaked. "I definitely don't like Mayura….But look, I design things too, and I can appreciate good craftsmanship even if I hate the person wearing it! Her color palette is really sophisticated, and the way she incorporates the peacock theme without making it too literal—"

"Thank you!" Alix threw her hands up. "Finally someone with taste. The color coordination alone—"

"You're all insane," Adrien said flatly. "She's evil. She helps Hawkmoth terrorize Paris. You can't just ignore that because she has a good fashion sense."

"But Adrien," Alya said, pulling out her phone with a grin that made his stomach drop, "your dad even agrees!"

"What?" The word came out as a croak.

"Check this out." She turned her phone screen toward him, and Adrien found himself staring at a video thumbnail of his father sitting in what looked like their home office, the words "GABRIEL AGRESTE: MAYURA HAS STYLE" emblazoned across the bottom.

"When did he—" Adrien started, but Alya was already hitting play.

The journalist's voice came through clearly: "And what about the villains themselves? Hawkmoth and his accomplice?"

"Mayura," his father's voice corrected, and Adrien's heart sank at how quickly he'd provided the name. "I mean, yes, Hawkmoth and... his partner."

"You seem to know quite a bit about them."

"Only what any Parisian would know from the news coverage. Though I will say, from a purely professional standpoint, Mayura has an excellent sense of style. Her costume design shows real understanding of color theory and silhouette. It's... aesthetically impressive."

The blood drained from Adrien's face as his classmates erupted in delighted chatter.

"See?" Nino said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Even your old man thinks she's got it going on."

But the video wasn't over. The journalist's voice continued: "Interesting. So you admire her fashion sense?"

"I admire good design wherever I see it. It's simply an objective professional assessment."

"Of course. And would you say she's... attractive?"

Adrien watched in mounting horror as his father's face on the screen went slightly red. "I... I think we should focus on fashion, not... personal appearances."

"He said 'aesthetically impressive,'" Kim added with a waggle of his eyebrows. "That's basically Gabriel Agreste speak for 'hot.'"

"No," Adrien said weakly. "No, no, no—"

"Oh my God," Alya laughed, "he's totally into her!"

Rose was staring at the phone screen with wide eyes. "He looked really flustered when she asked if Mayura was attractive," she said quietly. "Like, really flustered."

"This is not happening," Adrien muttered, burying his face in his hands. "This cannot be happening."

"But wait," Alya said, pausing the video with a thoughtful expression. "Do you think Hawkmoth's jealous? I mean, if Gabriel Agreste is publicly saying Mayura's hot—"

"Jealous?" Adrien looked up, confused. "Why would Hawkmoth be jealous?"

The entire class turned to stare at him.

"Dude," Nino said slowly, "they're totally dating."

"What?"

"Hawkmoth and Mayura," Nino continued as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. "They're definitely together. Like, romantically."

"That's ridiculous," Adrien sputtered, but Rose was already pulling up photos on her phone.

"Look at this one from last month's akuma attack," she said, showing the screen around. "Look how close they're standing!"

"And this one!" Mylene added, leaning over with her own phone. "He's literally got his hand on her waist!"

Adrien stared at the images in growing horror. In one, Hawkmoth and Mayura were standing on a rooftop, and Hawkmoth did indeed have his hand resting possessively on Mayura's lower back. In another, they were facing each other in what looked like an intimate conversation, standing much closer than necessary.

"Oh, and remember that fight where she got hurt?" Alya said, scrolling through her Ladyblog footage. "The way he caught her when she stumbled? Total boyfriend behavior."

"They're villains!" Adrien protested weakly. "They don't... they can't just... date!"

"Why not?" Marinette asked, though she looked as uncomfortable as Adrien felt. "I mean, they're both adults, they work together closely, they clearly trust each other..."

"Plus," Alya added, "there's definitely chemistry there. You can see it in how they move together during fights."

"She's a supervillain!" Adrien's voice cracked slightly. "And she's—she works with Hawkmoth! They're probably—" He couldn't even finish the sentence. The thought of his father having any kind of positive feelings toward someone who was apparently in a relationship with Paris's greatest enemy was making him physically ill.

"Probably what?" Nino asked, looking concerned.

"Nothing," Adrien said quickly. "Just... this is weird, okay? Really, really weird."

Alya was scrolling through her phone now. "Oh wow, this is everywhere. #GabrielKnowsStyle is trending. Look at these memes—"

"Please don't," Adrien begged, but she was already showing him a picture of his father's face photoshopped next to Mayura with heart-eye emojis, and another one that said "When you're a fashion icon but also have a crush on a supervillain."

"I'm never leaving this classroom," he announced to no one in particular. "I'm just going to live here forever and pretend this never happened."

"Come on, Adrien," Alya grinned. "You have to admit, if your dad's going to have a celebrity crush, at least he picked someone with good taste in fashion. Even if she is taken."

Adrien made a sound that might have been a whimper.

This was going to be the longest day of his life.

"Mayura."

The name left his mouth so naturally, so automatically, that for a split second Gabriel didn't even realize what he'd done. Then the journalist's eyebrows rose slightly, and the weight of his mistake hit him like a physical blow.

Idiot. He should have just said "his accomplice" or "the other one" like any normal Parisian would. But no, he'd corrected her as if he had some personal investment in getting Mayura's name right, as if—

"I mean, yes, Hawkmoth and... his partner," he added quickly, but the damage was already done. He could see it in the journalist's expression, the way she leaned forward slightly like a predator scenting blood.

This was exactly why he avoided interviews. Twenty years of running Gabriel, and he could count on one hand the number of sit-down interviews he'd given. He was rusty, out of practice, too used to the controlled environment of his atelier where every word was measured and every interaction served a purpose.

He wouldn't even be doing this if it weren't for the board. "Twenty years, Gabriel," they'd said. "It's a milestone. We need media exposure, public engagement. The younger demographic needs to see the man behind the brand."

What a joke. The man behind the brand was currently trying not to think about how Mayura's costume complemented her figure, or how her voice sounded when she called his name during their battles, or—

"You seem to know quite a bit about them," the journalist said, and Gabriel forced himself to focus.

"Only what any Parisian would know from the news coverage." The lie came smoothly, but he could feel sweat beginning to form at his collar. From the corner of his eye, he could see Nathalie at her usual spot by the window, ostensibly taking notes on her tablet. But her knuckles were white where she gripped the device, and her other hand was pressed flat against the table's surface, fingers spread wide as if she were trying to anchor herself.

She knew. Of course she knew. Nathalie always knew when he was about to say something catastrophically stupid.

"Though I will say," Gabriel continued, and some masochistic part of his brain watched in horror as the words kept coming, "from a purely professional standpoint, Mayura has an excellent sense of style. Her costume design shows real understanding of color theory and silhouette. It's... aesthetically impressive."

Behind the journalist, Nathalie's fingers curled into a fist against the table. Her jaw was so tight Gabriel was surprised her teeth didn't crack.

Stop talking, he told himself. Stop talking right now.

"Interesting," the journalist said, her eyes lighting up with the unmistakable gleam of someone who'd just stumbled onto a much better story than they'd expected. "So you admire her fashion sense?"

"I admire good design wherever I see it," Gabriel said stiffly, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity. "It's simply an objective professional assessment."

Nathalie's pen snapped in her grip.

The sound was barely audible, but Gabriel caught it, and the tiny crack of plastic felt like a gunshot in the suddenly tense room. She didn't look up from her tablet, didn't acknowledge what had happened, just smoothly reached for another pen from the cup on the side table. But her movements were too controlled, too careful, like someone trying very hard not to break anything else.

"Of course," the journalist smiled, and Gabriel realized with growing dread that she wasn't buying his professional detachment act for a second. "And would you say she's... attractive?"

The question hung in the air like a loaded weapon. Gabriel could feel heat creeping up his neck, could practically hear Nathalie's internal screaming from across the room. This was a disaster. This was exactly the kind of personal question he'd spent twenty years avoiding, and now here he was, being asked on camera whether he found his own alter ego's partner attractive.

The irony would have been hilarious if it weren't so mortifying.

"I..." Gabriel cleared his throat, acutely aware of how the camera was capturing every micro-expression, every tell. "I think we should focus on fashion, not... personal appearances."

Even as he said it, he knew how it sounded. Flustered. Evasive. Like a man who'd been caught having inappropriate thoughts about a supervillain.

Which, technically, he had been.

The journalist's smile turned predatory, and Gabriel knew with absolute certainty that this interview was going to haunt him for the rest of his natural life.

From her spot by the window, Nathalie finally looked up, and the expression on her face was carefully, professionally blank in a way that meant she was furious beyond words.

The final bell couldn't come fast enough. Adrien had spent the entire day fielding questions, dodging memes being shoved in his face, and trying to pretend that his father hadn't just become the internet's favorite topic of conversation. By the time he was walking down the school steps with Nino, Alya, and Marinette, his head was pounding.

"I still can't believe this is real," he muttered, adjusting his bag strap. "Like, this morning I woke up in a normal world where my father gave boring interviews about fabric choices and color palettes."

"Dude, you've gotta admit it's kind of hilarious," Nino said, pulling up something on his phone. "Look, someone made a compilation video of all the times Mayura and Hawkmoth have had 'romantic moments' during akuma attacks. It has like half a million views already."

"Don't show me that," Adrien said quickly, but Alya was already peering over Nino's shoulder.

"Oh wow, they really do look like a couple in some of these shots," she said. "I mean, I've been filming akuma attacks for more three years and I never really thought about it, but..."

"But what?" Marinette asked, though she looked like she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"But wait," Alya said, her reporter instincts clearly kicking in. "What do you think Hawkmoth's reaction is going to be? I mean, if he and Mayura really are together, and now Gabriel Agreste is publicly saying she's attractive..."

Adrien felt his stomach drop. "I... what do you mean?"

"Well, think about it," Alya continued, warming to her theory. "Hawkmoth's already pretty possessive of his akumas. If he's dating Mayura and suddenly Paris's most famous fashion designer is talking about how 'aesthetically impressive' she is..."

"That's..." Marinette started, then stopped, looking pale. "That's actually really concerning."

"Right?" Alya said. "Like, what if Hawkmoth gets jealous? What if he decides Gabriel Agreste is a threat?"

Adrien and Marinette couldn’t hide their individual look of pure panic.

"He wouldn't," Adrien said quickly. "I mean, Hawkmoth goes after people who are emotionally compromised, not just... not people who give compliments in interviews."

"But what if your dad becomes emotionally compromised?" Nino adds in.

"Nino!" Marinette squeaked. Her mind was already whirling with ideas of whether she needed to repeat being Gabriel Agreste’s personal bodyguard. While she’d become a lot more comfortable around Adrien, following around his father for however long before this media circus died down wasn’t exactly her ideal afterschool plans.

"I'm just saying! If Gabriel Agreste develops some kind of... fixation... that could make him a target."

Adrien felt like he was going to be sick. The idea of his father being targeted by Hawkmoth was terrifying enough without the added layer of it being because of some perceived romantic rivalry with Mayura. He 

"That’s not--He’s not actually into her" he exclaimed. If anything he felt like his father and Nathalie has some sort of weird dynamic going on, but that could also just be him projecting about a romance alongside someone you worked with. 

"You two are acting really weird about this," Alya said suddenly, her eyes narrowing as she looked between Adrien and Marinette. "Like, weirdly uncomfortable."

"We're not—" Marinette started.

"It's just weird to talk about," Adrien said at the same time.

Alya stared at them for a long moment, then shook her head. "You're both way too innocent. This is just normal adult relationship drama, except with supervillains."

"Normal?" Adrien's voice cracked.

"Well, look at this video from the akuma a couple weeks ago," Alya said, taking Nino's phone and angling it so they could all see. "The way Hawkmoth's standing behind Mayura, and she's leaning back against him slightly? That's not just professional partnership body language."

Adrien stared at the screen, trying to process what he was seeing. He'd been there for that fight—well, Chat Noir had been there—but he'd been focused on the akuma, on protecting civilians, on working with Ladybug. He hadn't been... analyzing whether the villains looked romantically involved.

"I don't get it," he said finally. "I mean, I've been watching them fight for all these years, on screen of course! And I never... how do you even notice stuff like that?"

"Notice what?" Nino asked.

"Whether people are... attractive. Or into each other. Or whatever." Adrien ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Maybe it's all the modeling and fashion stuff, but I'm around beautiful people all the time and I just... I don't really think about it unless I actually know them. Like, emotionally."

Marinette made a small sound that might have been understanding, but when Adrien looked at her, she was staring very intently at her shoes.

"That's probably because you're so handsome yourself," Alya said with a grin. "When you're a literal model, I guess regular pretty people don't really register."

"That's not—I do notice pretty people!" Adrien protested. "I notice how pretty Marinette is!"

The words tumbled out before he could stop them, and suddenly the entire group went dead silent. 

Marinette's face turned approximately the same color as Ladybug's suit. Alya's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. Nino made a small choking sound.

"I—" Adrien started, his own face heating up as he realized what he'd just said. "I mean—that's not—I just meant—"

"Oh my God," Alya whispered, a delighted grin spreading across her face.

"I have to go," Adrien said quickly, backing away from the group. "I just remembered I have... a thing. A very important thing that I need to do. Right now."

"Adrien, wait—" Marinette squeaked, but he was already turning and practically sprinting in the opposite direction.

"DUDE!" He heard Nino call after him, but Adrien didn't stop running until he was three blocks away and completely out of breath.

He leaned against a corner, gasping, and tried to process what had just happened.

"This," he said to no one in particular, "has been the weirdest day of my entire life."

And he still had to go home and wonder how to face his father after all the weird memes that he had been forced to see. 

Chapter Text

Luckily for Adrien, although his father had tried to take more of an active interest in his life over the past year—especially in the six months since his mother had officially been declared dead—they still managed to exist separately throughout the house for the most part. The mansion was large enough that they could go days without crossing paths if they really wanted to, and today felt like one of those days where that arrangement was a blessing.

It was a bit odd that Nathalie hadn't greeted him when he got home, but then again, she'd most likely been dealing with the whole media circus and what he was sure was his father's terrible mood. He didn't blame her for staying holed up wherever she was, probably fielding phone calls from reporters and trying to do damage control.

Adrien dropped his bag by his bedroom door and flopped onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The events of the day felt surreal—his father's interview, the internet's reaction, his own mortifying confession about Marinette. He groaned and buried his face in his pillow.

"Rough day?" Plagg asked, floating out from his hiding spot.

"The worst," Adrien mumbled into the pillow. "I think I broke my brain trying to process everything."

"Well, your old man certainly knows how to make headlines," Plagg said cheerfully. "Though I gotta say, for a guy who spends his days designing pretty clothes, he sure doesn't know how to handle a simple interview."

Adrien lifted his head. "You watched it?"

"Kid, everyone in Paris watched it. It's been playing on repeat all day." Plagg settled on the pillow next to him. "So what's the plan? Are you going to hide up here until this all blows over?"

"That was the idea," Adrien said, but then he frowned. He wondered if he should go check on Nathalie. Her health had been improving enough that she no longer stayed at the mansion constantly—she'd even started going home to her own apartment some evenings, which had been a relief after months of worry. But he couldn't forget how weak she had become at one point, how terrible her coughs and dizzy spells had gotten.

The stress of today couldn't be good for her recovery.

"Actually," he said, sitting up, "I should probably check on Nathalie. She's been dealing with all the media fallout, and with her health..."

"Hasn’t she gotten better?" Plagg asked, though his tone was more curious than dismissive.

"Well, that's true," Adrien said, standing up. "She just... she takes care of things. Takes care of us, I guess. And she's been sick. Really sick. I just want to make sure she's okay."

He made his way downstairs, listening for any signs of life in the usually bustling mansion. The place felt eerily quiet, like everyone was holding their breath and waiting for the storm to pass.

He found Nathalie in her office, hunched over her computer with her phone pressed to her ear. Even from the doorway, he could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her free hand was pressed against her temple like she had a headache.

"No, M. Agreste will not be giving any follow-up interviews," she was saying in her crisp, professional voice. "Yes, I understand there's public interest, but... no. Absolutely not."

She looked up and saw him hovering in the doorway, and for just a moment, her carefully composed expression cracked. She looked exhausted.

"I'll have to call you back," she said into the phone, then hung up without waiting for a response.

"Adrien," she said, straightening in her chair. "How was school?"

"Weird," he said honestly. "Are you okay? You look..."

"Tired," she finished with a slight smile. "It's been a very long day."

"Have you eaten anything?" he asked, stepping into the office. "You look pale."

Something flickered across her face—surprise, maybe, or something softer. "I'm fine, Adrien. Just dealing with the usual crisis management."

"This isn't usual though, is it?" he said. "I mean, Father doesn't usually... say things like that in interviews."

Nathalie's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "No," she said carefully. "He doesn't."

Adrien shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, then stepped fully into the office. "Nathalie, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," she said, reaching for her coffee cup and taking a careful sip.

"Do you think we need to be worried about Hawkmoth getting jealous?"

Nathalie choked, her eyes going wide as she nearly spat out her coffee. She managed to swallow it, but immediately started coughing, pressing a hand to her chest as she tried to catch her breath.

"Are you okay?" Adrien rushed forward, alarmed by her reaction.

"Fine," she gasped, setting down her coffee cup with shaking hands. "Just—went down the wrong way."

But Adrien could see there was something in her eyes that looked almost like embarrassment before she managed to school her expression back to its usual composed mask.

"What do you mean about Hawkmoth getting jealous?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral though still slightly hoarse from coughing.

"Well, Alya—my friend, the ladyblogger—she pointed out that if Hawkmoth and Mayura really are... together... and now Father publicly said Mayura is attractive..." Adrien ran a hand through his hair. "What if Hawkmoth gets jealous? What if he decides Father is some kind of threat?"

Nathalie had gone very still, her hand frozen halfway to reaching for a tissue. "That's... that's quite a leap, Adrien."

"Is it though?" he pressed. "Hawkmoth targets people for emotional reasons all the time. And if he's possessive of Mayura..."

"Hawkmoth targets people who are already emotionally compromised," Nathalie said carefully, finally grabbing the tissue to dab at her mouth. "People who are angry, or sad, or frustrated. Your father giving a compliment in an interview hardly makes him a target."

But even as she said it, Adrien could see something working behind her eyes, like she was calculating possibilities she didn't want to consider.

"You don't think Father would become... emotionally compromised... do you?" Adrien asked. "I mean, he's been so focused on work since Mother... since the declaration. What if this Mayura thing becomes some kind of distraction?"

Nathalie's grip tightened on her coffee cup. "Your father is a professional, Adrien. He's not going to develop some kind of... fixation... on a supervillain."

"But what if he does?" Adrien insisted. "What if Hawkmoth sees all this media attention and decides Father is getting too interested in his partner? Shouldn't we have extra security or something?"

"I..." Nathalie started, then stopped. For a moment, she looked genuinely uncertain, like she was trying to work through a problem that had too many variables. "I'll discuss it with your father. We'll... we'll take appropriate precautions."

"Good," Adrien said, relieved. "I just... I worry, you know? After everything that's happened, I don't want anything else to go wrong."

“Besides,” Adrien started when the silence started getting too much, but he know how to leave gracefully. "I'd rather have you as a stepmother than Mayura, anyway."

Nathalie's eyes went wide, the tissues in her hands fluttering to the floor.

"I mean," Adrien continued quickly, his face reddening, "you're basically the only person my father likes anyway..."

"Adrien," Nathalie said softly, looking at him with unusual gentleness, "your father loves you. Very much."

"Yeah, but it'd be nice if he could be happy," Adrien said, then immediately looked like he wanted to take the words back. The unspoken 'with you' hung in the air between them.

Desperate to change the subject, he started talking faster. "Anyway, all my friends are shipping Hawkyura now—that's what they're calling Hawkmoth and Mayura—so things with Father and Mayura wouldn't work anyway. The internet has already decided she belongs with—"

CLATTER.

Both Adrien and Nathalie turned toward the sound. Through the open doorway to the drawing room, they could see Gabriel standing frozen, fabric samples scattered all over the floor around his feet.

"Hawkyura?!" Gabriel exclaimed, his voice pitched higher than usual.

Nathalie's face had gone completely pale. "Gabriel, I—"

"Adrien," Gabriel said sternly, stepping over the scattered fabrics and moving toward the office, "these are all your bad school influences. I don't want to hear about whatever nonsense your classmates are filling your head with."

"Well, it's not like I'm the one who called a supervillain hot," Adrien muttered under his breath.

Gabriel stopped dead in his tracks. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing," Adrien said quickly, but his father's sharp gaze had already caught the words.

"Adrien Agreste, you will not speak to me with that tone," Gabriel said, his voice taking on that cold, authoritative edge that always made Adrien shrink back. "And I certainly don't want to hear about whatever... shipping... means."

Nathalie cleared her throat delicately. "Perhaps we should all take a moment to—"

"No," Gabriel cut her off, his eyes still fixed on his son. "Who knows what kind of ridiculous ideas are his classmates are putting in his head?"

"It's not inappropriate, Father," Adrien said, his voice getting a little defensive. "It's just... people think Hawkmoth and Mayura make a good couple. That's all."

Gabriel's eye twitched. "A good... couple?" His voice raising higher at the end. 

Adrien's mind raced. Decidedly his day wasn’t going to be getting any better. Since he’d already ended up in this insane conversation, he thought that he needed to make sure his father understood that Mayura was completely off-limits—that she was already taken. Maybe if he really emphasized how perfect she and Hawkmoth were together...

"Yeah, like, they work well together, they're both mysterious, they complement each other's powers..." Adrien found himself getting more animated, completely missing the way his father's face was growing paler by the second.

"Alya says they have incredible chemistry. And Nino thinks Hawkmoth is probably really protective of her, which is super romantic. Like, you can tell just by watching them that they're totally devoted to each other."

"Devoted," Gabriel repeated faintly.

"Oh, absolutely," Adrien continued, really warming to his theme now. "I mean, the way Hawkmoth always makes sure she's safe during battles? And how they coordinate their attacks like they can read each other's minds? Everyone says they're obviously soulmates. Like, destined-to-be-together, ride-or-die, Bonnie and Clyde kind of love."

Gabriel had gone very still.

"Father, are you feeling alright?" Adrien asked, finally noticing his father's strange expression, maybe his father was more into Mayura then he initially assumed. That was not good at all. "You look a little..."

"I'm fine," Gabriel said quietly, his voice oddly strained.

Nathalie, who had been watching this exchange with growing mortification, cleared her throat. "Perhaps you should go work on your homework, Adrien. Don't you have that literature essay due tomorrow?"

"Oh, right!" Adrien said, relieved to escape what had become an increasingly awkward conversation. "I should go work on that."

He headed for the door, then paused and looked back. "But seriously, Father, you should focus on people closer to you. People who are actually... you know... available." Adrien glanced at Nathalie, in a very unsubtle way. “Everyone already knows Hawkmoth and Mayura are completely devoted to each other. Like, exclusively devoted." He nodded strongly, hoping that his point came across before deciding that he should leave before it sits in for them.

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Gabriel and Nathalie stood in absolute silence, both of them staring at different points in the room, neither quite able to look at the other.

"So," Gabriel said finally, his voice carefully neutral.

"Yes," Nathalie replied, equally neutral.

Another long pause.

"Hawkyura?," Gabriel said.

Nathalie's cheeks turned pink. "He's just... teenagers have very dramatic ideas about relationships."

"Ride-or-die."

"Gabriel."

“...”

Nathalie busied herself with straightening papers that were already perfectly straight. "Perhaps we should focus on the Autumn collection."

"Right," Gabriel said, still not moving. "The collection."

Neither of them moved.

Chapter Text

Nathalie Sancoeur often wondered how she kept finding herself in such situations.

When she'd first decided to take up the Peacock Miraculous and risk her own health for this admittedly wayward quest, her motivations had been crystal clear and entirely practical. She'd simply been trying to save herself, Adrien, and her boss from going to prison. The math had been simple: help Gabriel retrieve the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses, bring back Emilie, and ensure that none of them faced the consequences of Gabriel's increasingly reckless behavior as Hawkmoth.

It had started as pure self-preservation, really. She'd seen the writing on the wall—Gabriel's emotional instability was growing worse by the day, his plans more desperate and poorly thought out. Someone needed to be the voice of reason, the strategic mind that could actually make this work. And if that someone happened to be her, well, at least she'd have some control over the situation.

But somewhere along the way, things had changed.

Sure, she did enjoy the freedom that came from being Mayura. There was something intoxicating about shedding the role of the dutiful assistant, the woman who lived her life in the shadows of other people's needs and desires. As Mayura, she was powerful, respected, even feared. She could speak her mind without worrying about professional boundaries or social expectations. And now that the miraculous wasn't slowly destroying her health with each transformation, she even found it thrilling.

The rush of creating a sentimonster, of watching her creations come to life and follow her commands—it was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. For someone who'd spent years managing other people's lives and dreams, having that kind of direct, immediate power was addictive.

But why, why, was she forced to have such an absolutely inane partner?

Standing in the ruins of what had been, just minutes ago, a perfectly orchestrated collection preview, Nathalie felt her eye twitch as she surveyed the destruction. She couldn't fathom why someone as particular and Type A as Gabriel Agreste—a man who obsessed over the precise angle of a button, who could spend hours debating the exact shade of thread for a seam—could lose all of his senses and decide to send out an akuma during his own brand's collection preview.

Did he not care about his work? About the months of preparation that had gone into this event? Or at least all of her hours upon hours of work setting this up.

The guest list alone had taken her three weeks to perfect. She'd spent countless phone calls negotiating with buyers from Milan, New York, and Tokyo. She'd coordinated with caterers, florists, security, and the venue staff. She'd personally overseen the arrangement of every single piece in the collection, ensuring that the lighting hit each garment at the perfect angle to showcase Gabriel's vision.

And now it was all destroyed because Gabriel couldn't handle a snide comment from Audrey Bourgeois.

Nathalie cringed as she watched the ornate flower displays—each arrangement costing more than most people's monthly salary—shatter against each other in a cascade of crystal vases and exotic blooms. She ducked as debris flew past her head, dodging what she was fairly certain were pieces of the overpriced hors d'oeuvres she'd specifically ordered from Le Grand Palais. Those tiny truffle canapés had cost a fortune, and now they were splattered across the gallery walls like abstract art.

The irony wasn't lost on her. She'd spent the morning ensuring that every detail was perfect, from the temperature of the champagne to the precise timing of the model presentations. She'd even had backup plans for her backup plans. But she hadn't planned for her boss having an emotional breakdown and accidentally destroying his own event.

Through the chaos, she could hear the screams of terrified guests, the crash of falling displays, and the distinctive sound of the akuma's paint-based attacks hitting the building's exterior. The acrid smell of whatever chemicals the akuma was using filled the air, making her eyes water.

Transforming quickly in a secluded corner of the gallery, Nathalie felt the familiar rush of power as she became Mayura. The elegant blue costume materialized around her, and with it came the confidence and authority that Gabriel seemed to lack in moments like these.

She swept through the gallery's shattered window with fluid grace, her trained eyes immediately scanning the chaos for Gabriel's familiar figure. There—cowering behind an overturned display case, looking lost and panicked among the destruction like a child who'd broken something valuable and didn't know how to fix it.

A piece of the ornate ceiling broke loose above them, chunks of plaster and decorative molding tumbling down. Without thinking, Nathalie pulled Gabriel against her, shielding him with her body as debris rained down around them. She pressed him back against the wall, using her frame to protect him from the falling pieces.

"This is exactly why we plan these things!" she hissed in his ear, her voice low and furious despite the protective position she'd taken. She could feel his heart racing against her palm where her hand was pressed against his chest to keep him back from the danger. "You've ruined months of work!"

Gabriel looked appropriately sheepish, and she could see the guilt and panic warring in his green eyes. He was very aware of how close she was, how her body was curved around his protectively, how her breath was warm against his ear as she spoke. "I felt the emotion too strongly," he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the chaos around them. "I had to act, but then I realized—"

"That you can't just disappear from a room full of people?" Her blue eyes flashed with irritation as another paint blast hit somewhere nearby, the sound making several guests scream. “A room with only one entrance?!”

The acrid smell was getting stronger, and she could see the walls beginning to dissolve where the akuma's attacks had hit. "Brilliant deduction, sir"

She stayed positioned over him protectively as the sounds of battle grew closer. Through the destroyed window, she could hear Ladybug's voice calling out commands, followed by Chat Noir's distinctive laugh. Good—they were drawing the akuma away from the building and the civilians inside.

But the damage was already done. Around them, she could hear the whispers starting, see the phone cameras that were still recording despite the chaos. Even in the middle of an akuma attack, people were documenting everything, and she and Gabriel were providing them with quite the show.

"Is that really Mayura?" someone whispered from behind an overturned table.

"She's protecting Gabriel Agreste," another voice added, awed.

"Look how close they are..."

"This is so romantic!"

Nathalie closed her eyes briefly, fighting the urge to scream. This was exactly what they didn't need—more speculation about Gabriel and Mayura's relationship. The interview disaster from yesterday was bad enough, but now there would be actual footage of them in what appeared to be an intimate moment. 

"We need to get you out of here," she murmured to Gabriel, glancing around to assess their options. The main entrance was blocked by debris, and there were too many people with cameras for Gabriel to simply disappear again.

"I know," Gabriel replied, his voice tight with stress. "I'm sorry, Nat--Mayura. I didn't think—"

"No," she cut him off sharply, "you didn't think. That's exactly the problem."

She helped him to his feet as the sounds of battle moved further away, keeping herself positioned between him and the worst of the destruction. Her hand lingered on his arm for a moment longer than strictly necessary, and she caught the way his eyes softened as he looked at her.

Don't, she thought firmly. Don't look at me like that. Not here, not now, not ever.

But even as she thought it, she was aware of the way her heart had sped up when she'd pulled him close, the way her skin tingled where they'd touched. This was dangerous territory, and she couldn't afford to let her guard down.

Adrien Agreste had never been more grateful for his enhanced speed and agility than he was in that moment, racing across Paris rooftops as Chat Noir before detransforming in an alley three blocks from school. His heart was still pounding from the akuma battle—An akuma attack at his father's own event.

This was a disaster of epic proportions.

He rushed through the halls of Françoise Dupont, checking his watch frantically. Afternoon classes had already started, and he was hoping against hope that he could slip in unnoticed and that maybe, just maybe, news of the attack hadn't reached his classmates yet.

That hope died the moment he walked into the classroom.

"Dude, did you hear about that crazy akuma attack downtown?" Nino was saying to Alya as Adrien slipped into his seat, trying to catch his breath without being obvious about it. "Some artist guy went totally nuts with paint. Like, literally painting people's worst nightmares or something."

Adrien's stomach clenched. He'd been there, he'd fought the akuma—Critique, who could manifest people's deepest insecurities about their appearance and make them real. It had been a particularly nasty one, feeding off the fashion industry's inherent anxieties about image and perfection.

"I saw the footage," Alya replied, and Adrien's heart sank further as she pulled up her phone. Her eyes were bright with the excitement she always got when discussing superhero-related news. "Ladybug and Chat Noir handled it pretty quickly, but check this out—"

Adrien forced a laugh, trying to sound casual despite the way his palms were starting to sweat. "Yeah, just another Tuesday in Paris, right? You know how it is—akuma attacks, superhero battles, the usual."

He was rambling, he knew he was rambling, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. Maybe if he kept talking about it like it was no big deal, Alya would move on to something else. Maybe she hadn't seen—

But then Alya turned her phone screen toward the group, and Adrien felt like his world was ending.

There, in crystal-clear HD that someone had obviously shot on a professional camera, was Mayura leaning protectively over his father. The image was perfectly framed, capturing the way she curved her body around him, how their faces were inches apart, the intense eye contact between them. His father's hand was visible, resting on her arm, and the expression on his face...

Adrien had never seen his father look at anyone like that. Not even in the old photos with his mother.  If he hadn’t been at the battle himself, he would have assumed that someone photoshopped such an expression on his face.

"Look at this!" Alya continued excitedly, completely oblivious to Adrien's internal meltdown. "Mayura totally saved Gabriel Agreste! I mean, look at the way she's holding him—this is like, movie-level romantic! The way she's protecting him, the way he's looking at her... I'm getting serious 'star-crossed lovers' vibes here."

Adrien felt like he was dying. Actually, physically dying. His vision started to blur around the edges as he stared at the image, his mind racing through all the implications.

The comments were already starting to appear on Alya's screen as she scrolled:

"OMG they're perfect together!"

"The way she risked everything to protect him 😭"

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," Adrien muttered, putting his head down on his desk and trying to block out the world. This was so much worse than the interview. This was visual evidence that would be impossible to explain away or dismiss.

His carefully laid plans were crumbling before his eyes. Instead of hoping his father would get over his apparent infatuation with Mayura, Adrien had somehow stumbled upon a situation where the entire city was now convinced they were destined to be together.

"Adrien?" Marinette's voice cut through his panic as she rushed into the classroom, slightly out of breath and looking flustered. Her hair was a bit messed up, and there was something different about her that he couldn't quite place. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Adrien looked up at her with wild, desperate eyes, grateful to have someone to talk to who might understand his panic. "Marinette, you have to see this. My father—and Mayura, they—" He gestured helplessly at Alya's phone, his words tumbling over each other. "Everyone thinks they're in love! There are pictures, and videos, and people are making hashtags, and this is going to be everywhere, and I don't know what to do!"

Marinette leaned over to look at the screen, and immediately her face went pale. Her eyes widened as she took in the image, and Adrien could see her face flushing more than he would have assumed. Then again, Marinette did care deeply about everyone and must have been worried about how terribly he was taking this. 

"Oh," she stammered, her eyes darting between the image and Adrien's panicked expression. "Oh, that's... that's definitely... I mean, Mayura and... and Gabriel... but if Mayura works with Hawkmoth, then that means..." She trailed off, looking increasingly flustered, her cheeks turning pink.

"Exactly!" Adrien said, starting to bang his head gently against his desk in a rhythm that matched his racing heartbeat. "This is a disaster. A complete and total disaster,”

"Wait," Alya interrupted, and Adrien's head snapped up in alarm. Had she heard something worse? But Alya was looking at Marinette with a puzzled expression, sniffing the air delicately. "Marinette, do you smell like... expensive perfume? And is that... truffle oil?"

Adrien blinked, suddenly noticing what had been nagging at him since Marinette walked in. There was indeed a faint scent of something expensive and sophisticated clinging to her, completely at odds with her usual sweet, bakery-fresh smell. And now that Alya mentioned it, there were other things too—a slight smudge of what looked like very expensive makeup on her collar, and was that plaster dust in her hair?

Marinette's face turned bright red, the blush spreading down her neck and disappearing beneath her shirt collar. "What? No! That's just... the bakery! We were... experimenting with... fancy... bread?" Her voice pitched higher with each word, and she was gesturing wildly with her hands. "You know how my parents are always trying new things! Truffle bread! Very... very fancy bread! With... with expensive... bread perfume?"

Adrien looked over at her pensively, something nagging at the back of his mind. The timing was odd—Marinette arriving late, looking flustered, smelling like she'd been at an expensive event. Somewhere like...

But then his phone buzzed with a new notification, and his attention was immediately dragged back to his own crisis.

Another photo had surfaced on social media, this one even more damning than the first. It showed his father's hand resting on Mayura's arm as she helped him to his feet, both of them looking at each other with what could only be described as meaningful eye contact. The lighting was perfect, the composition was flawless, and the emotion captured in both their faces was undeniable.

The caption read: "When you find your soulmate during an akuma attack 💙 #MayuraGabriel #TrueLove #DestinyIsReal"

The hashtag was already trending.

Adrien put his head back down on his desk and groaned loudly enough that several classmates turned to look at him with concern.

This was getting worse by the minute, and he had no idea how to fix it.

Adrien didn't see his father and Nathalie together for the next week—they seemed to be avoiding each other with almost suspicious determination. But that didn't stop his classmates from mentioning at least once a day whether he'd like Mayura as a stepmother, complete with knowing grins and wiggling eyebrows. By Thursday, even Chloe asked if he needed advice on how to deal with a father's "middle life crisis", in an oddly rare moment of kindness.

For the first time in his life, Adrien found himself genuinely regretting being in school.

Chapter Text

Gabriel Agreste stood before his latest design, a midnight blue evening gown that should have been stunning but somehow looked... wrong. He'd been staring at it for twenty minutes, unable to pinpoint exactly what was bothering him about the silhouette.

"The hemline," he muttered, then shook his head. "No, the neckline. Or perhaps—"

"Sir?" Nathalie's voice came through the intercom, crisp and professional as always. "Adrien's car will be here in ten minutes for his photoshoot."

Gabriel's hand tightened on his sketching pencil. Three days. It had been three days since Nathalie had spoken to him in person, and the sound of her voice through the speaker was somehow both a relief and a torment.

"Thank you," he said, pressing the intercom button. "And Nathalie? Could you come up here for a moment? I need your opinion on something."

There was a pause—too long.

"I'm afraid I'm handling some urgent calls at the moment," came the reply. "Perhaps this afternoon?"

Gabriel closed his eyes, frustration and hurt warring in his chest. "Of course. This afternoon."

But they both knew there would be another excuse this afternoon.

"Beautiful! Magnifique! Give me joy, Adrien! Give me sunshine!"

Adrien tried to summon a smile, but his face felt like it was made of concrete. Every time he attempted the carefree, happy expression Vincent wanted, his mind wandered back to the tension at home, to his father's increasingly erratic behavior, to the strange situation with Mayura.

Click. Click. Click.

"Non, non, NON!" Vincent threw his hands up dramatically. "This is not working! You look like someone stole your croissant! Where is the Adrien magic? Where is the sparkle?"

"Sorry," Adrien mumbled, trying again. But the smile felt forced, artificial. He could see it in Vincent's increasingly frustrated expression.

"Take five!" Vincent declared, waving his hands dismissively. "Go for a walk. Find your smile. It must be hiding somewhere in Paris, oui?"

Nathalie stared at her computer screen, the quarterly budget reports blurring together into meaningless numbers. She'd read the same line six times and still couldn't process what it said.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Gabriel: "The Japan contract needs your review. Could you bring it to my office?"

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She could handle this via email. She should handle this via email. There was absolutely no reason she needed to go to his office in person.

She typed back: "I'll email you my notes within the hour."

The response came immediately: "Nathalie, please. We need to talk."

She stared at the message for a full minute before deleting the entire conversation and burying her face in her hands.

The walls of the mansion felt like they were closing in. She needed air. Space. Distance from Gabriel's increasingly desperate attempts to corner her for a conversation she absolutely could not have.

"I'm stepping out for a few hours," she announced to no one in particular, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. "Some fresh air will do me good."

Adrien wandered aimlessly, hands shoved deep in his pockets. The Parisian afternoon was beautiful—sunny, warm, perfect for a photoshoot—but he felt like he was walking through fog.

"—absolutely not! Dating will ruin your focus!"

The sharp voice made him look up. Through the open window of a café, he could see a woman in an expensive suit gesticulating wildly at a younger woman who looked like a model.

"Love makes you sloppy, distracted!" the manager continued, her voice carrying clearly through the window. "You'll lose sight of your goals! Your career will suffer! Romance is the enemy of success!"

Adrien paused, something clicking in his brain.

"But—" the model started to protest.

"No buts! Look at what happened to Céline Dubois—one boyfriend and suddenly she's missing shoots, forgetting her lines, completely unfocused! Love is a luxury you cannot afford!"

Adrien's eyes widened as the pieces fell into place.

Love makes you distracted. Unfocused. Sloppy.

If Hawkmoth and Mayura are really in love...

A slow grin spread across his face—the first genuine smile he'd managed all day.

AKUMA ALERT: "Heartbreaker" - Victim appears to be targeting couples in the 7th arrondissement. Approach with caution.

Nathalie was sitting at a small outdoor café, finally feeling like she could breathe properly for the first time in days, when the akuma alert flashed across the news on her phone.

She glanced at the screen, then at the peaceful street around her. For once, she was away from the mansion, away from Gabriel's intense stares and loaded silences. The fresh air was doing wonders for her frayed nerves.

Her finger hovered over Gabriel's contact. She should call him. She should rush back to transform and help with the akuma.

Instead, she set her phone face-down on the table and took another sip of her coffee.

Let Gabriel handle this one on his own. After all the chaos his akumas had caused lately—the destroyed brand event, the media frenzy, the weird situation they were all trapped in—maybe it would be good for Mayura to take a break. 

She wasn't being petty. She was being... strategic. Yes, that was it.

"Well, well, well," Chat Noir purred as he landed on a rooftop overlooking the akumatized victim—a woman in a dramatic black and purple outfit wielding what appeared to be a bow that shot heart-shaped arrows. "Someone's having relationship troubles."

Hawkmoth's voice echoed across the battlefield as usual: "Heartbreaker! I am Hawkmoth. I'm giving you the power to break apart every happy couple in Paris! In return—"

"Yeah, yeah, Miraculous, we know the drill," Chat Noir muttered, then raised his voice. "Hey, Hawkmoth! Speaking of relationships, how are things with Mayura? You two work pretty well together!"

There was a pause in Hawkmoth's monologue. A very telling pause.

"I don't know what you're talking about," came the reply, but Chat Noir could swear he heard a slight stutter.

"Oh, come on!" Chat Noir dodged a heart-arrow and grinned. "The way you two coordinate your attacks? The perfect teamwork? There's definitely some chemistry there!"

"Focus on the miraculous!" Hawkmoth snapped, but his voice had gone up an octave.

"Wait a minute," Chat Noir said, his eyes widening with realization as he watched Heartbreaker's arrows fly with particular venom. "Oh my god, you're heartbroken too, aren't you? That's why you picked this akuma! You're projecting!"

The silence from Hawkmoth was deafening.

"Dude!" Chat Noir called out sympathetically, dodging another heart-arrow with a flourish. "Is Mayura giving you the cold shoulder? Did you two have a fight? Because let me tell you, as someone with extensive experience in unrequited love—I can totally help you with your Mayura problems!"

"I don't have—there are no—FOCUS ON THE AKUMA!" Hawkmoth's voice cracked completely.

"I'm just saying," Chat Noir continued conversationally as he vaulted over a park bench, "you make a cute couple. Very 'dark power couple' aesthetic. I bet you have matching evil lair furniture! But if she's avoiding you, you've got to step up your game! Have you tried grand romantic gestures? Poetry? Flowers?"

Hawkmoth's face was burning beneath his mask as he tried to maintain his connection with the akuma. Chat Noir's commentary was... deeply irritating.

The lair felt strangely quiet without Nathalie's presence, but that was fine. Perfectly fine. He was Hawkmoth—he didn't need anyone's help to handle one simple akuma.

Wait a minute... Oh my god, you're heartbroken too, aren't you?

"Ridiculous," Hawkmoth muttered through gritted teeth. "Absolutely ridiculous. I am not—there is no—this is purely professional!”

Hawkmoth's grip tightened on his cane. "We did not have a fight! Mayura is simply... busy. With other matters. Important matters that don't concern a mangy cat!"

But even as he said it, he could feel his concentration wavering. Where was she? Why hadn't she transformed to help? They were partners—professional partners—and she was supposed to be here.

I can totally help you with your Mayura problems!

"I don't have Mayura problems!" Hawkmoth snapped at the empty lair, his voice echoing off the walls. "There are no problems! Everything is perfectly fine! We work together efficiently and professionally, and that's all there is to it!"

The akuma connection flickered as his irritation mounted. Through his link with Heartbreaker, he could sense her confusion as his emotions interfered with her focus.

Have you tried grand romantic gestures? Poetry? Flowers?

"THERE IS NOTHING ROMANTIC ABOUT OUR PARTNERSHIP!" Hawkmoth roared, his voice cracking slightly. "We are colleagues! Allies! Nothing more!"

But even as he protested, a small, traitorous part of his mind whispered that maybe—just maybe—Chat Noir wasn't entirely wrong about the tension between them.

Even if Nathalie had been acting strangely lately. Even if she'd been avoiding him. Even if her absence felt like a physical ache in his chest.

He crushed that thought immediately. He was Hawkmoth. He didn't have time for such nonsense. Besides, if there was any tension between them, it was entirely his fault. He was the one who had somehow managed to develop these ridiculous, inappropriate feelings for his partner and closest friend. He was the one who had dragged her alter ego through a media circus that still continued to this day—reporters speculating about Mayura's identity, her relationship with the great designer, her motivations.

He was the one who had turned their professional partnership into something complicated and messy in his own mind, objectifying someone who had given him nothing but loyalty and support.

"Focus," he commanded himself, trying to regain control of the akuma. "This is about the Miraculous. Nothing else matters."

But Chat Noir's annoyingly perceptive comments kept echoing in his head, and Hawkmoth found himself more flustered than he'd been in months.

"Seriously though," Chat Noir called out as he helped Ladybug dodge another volley of arrows, "I think it's sweet! Hawkmoth deserves love too! Even if he is, you know, a supervillain trying to steal our jewelry!"

Ladybug shot him a look. "Chat, what are you doing?"

"Psychological warfare!" Chat Noir replied cheerfully. "Also, I'm genuinely curious about their relationship dynamic!"

"ENOUGH!" Hawkmoth's voice boomed across the battlefield, and both heroes could hear the frustration. "Heartbreaker, ignore the cat's nonsense and focus on—"

"Are you blushing right now?" Chat Noir interrupted. "Because your voice sounds like you're blushing! That's adorable!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Chat Noir suddenly gasped, dodging another arrow. "Oh no! Are you sad because Mayura's got a thing for someone else? Some civilian guy? Because dude, that's rough, but honestly—you're way better for her than whoever that other guy is!"

"What are you talking about?" Hawkmoth's voice went up another octave.

"I'm just saying, you two have amazing chemistry! Way better than her and Ga... well, whoever else she might be interested in! You're clearly the better match!"

Ladybug stared at Chat Noir like he'd grown a second head. "Chat, what in the word are you thinking—"

"Trust me on this one, LB!" Chat Noir grinned. "I'm totally Team Hawkmoth when it comes to this love triangle! You should fight for her, Hawky! Don't let some boring civilian steal your girl!"

"She's not my—there is no—WHAT TRIANGLE?!" Hawkmoth sputtered.

"Lucky Charm!" Ladybug called out, catching a spotted mirror. She glanced at Chat Noir, who was still grinning like the cat who got the cream. "What exactly is your plan here?"

"Simple!" Chat Noir dodged another heart-arrow with a flourish. "If Hawkmoth's distracted by jealousy and relationship drama, he'll make mistakes! Plus, if he's pining for Mayura while she's interested in someone else, that's double the distraction!"

"That's... actually not terrible reasoning," Ladybug admitted, though she still looked confused.

"I have my moments!" Chat Noir struck a dramatic pose. "Hey Hawkmoth! Does Mayura know how you feel? Have you told her? Because the way you two work together, it's like you're perfectly in sync! That doesn't just happen with anyone!"

The silence from Hawkmoth was deafening.

"Oh my god," Chat Noir continued gleeffully. "And she's not even here today!"

 "Did she ditch you to go see her crush? Are you having relationship problems? This is better than a soap opera!"

Gabriel's concentration finally snapped completely. The akuma connection wavered, and he could feel Heartbreaker's confusion as her powers fluctuated.

"SILENCE!" he roared, but his voice cracked with emotion. "You know nothing about—about—"

"About what?" Chat Noir called back sweetly. "About love? About pining for someone who's clearly avoiding you? Because buddy, I hate to break it to you, but it's pretty obvious!"

Gabriel made a strangled noise that was definitely not dignified, and the akuma connection cut out entirely.

Without Hawkmoth's guidance, Heartbreaker became confused and unfocused, making it easy for Ladybug to spot the akumatized object and break it.

"Miraculous Ladybug!"

The magical cure swept across Paris, fixing the damage and returning Heartbreaker to her civilian form. But Chat Noir wasn't done yet.

"This has been fun, Hawkmoth!" he called out cheerfully. "Same time tomorrow? And hey—maybe bring Mayura next time! I'd love to see you two in action together! The romantic tension must be off the charts!"

But there was no response. Hawkmoth had already disconnected.

Adrien practically bounced through the front door, his earlier melancholy completely replaced by excitement. The photoshoot had gone perfectly once he'd returned with his new perspective—Vincent had declared it his best work yet.

Chat Noir's teasing had clearly gotten under Hawkmoth's skin, and Adrien couldn't help but feel a little proud of how his plan went off without a hitch! 

Adrien flopped onto his bed, already formulating more ideas. As Chat Noir, he had a unique opportunity to play matchmaker. He could encourage Hawkmoth to be more romantic, give him advice, maybe even create situations where the two villains would have to work closely together.

It was perfect! He'd help Hawkmoth win Mayura's heart, and in the process, keep her far away from any civilian men who might catch her interest.

Especially his father.

The thought made Adrien's stomach churn. Gabriel Agreste was cold, distant, emotionally unavailable, and completely wrong for someone as vibrant and passionate as Mayura clearly was. No, she deserved someone who could match her intensity, someone who understood her completely.

Someone like Hawkmoth, of course.

"Operation Hawkyura Romance is a go," Adrien declared to his empty room, grinning widely.

Plagg emerged from his hiding spot, looking skeptical. "Kid, are you seriously planning to help our enemy get the girl?"

"It's for the greater good, Plagg!" Adrien insisted. "True love should triumph! Even supervillain true love!"

Besides, he thought but didn't say aloud, anything that kept his father away from Mayura was a win in his book.

Chapter Text

Nathalie stared at her computer screen, the reports blurring together as her mind wandered. She'd had some strange weeks since beginning her employment with Gabriel Agreste—working for a fashion mogul turned supervillain had a way of making life unpredictable—but this past week had been particularly... uncomfortable.

Although her surname would suggest otherwise, Nathalie wasn't that heartless, though she was certain many of her former colleagues would disagree. She preferred to think of herself as professionally ruthless. Why would she let something as naive as emotions get in the way of her goals?

Of course, just because she wasn't interested in dating or romance didn't mean she hadn't had dalliances before. She had just never let it affect her life in another other way. 

Now however…Chat Noir's constant remarks about her "romantic chemistry" with Hawkmoth and their "perfect partnership" were bad enough, but worse was how distracted she'd become during fights, and how his observations made her second-guess every move. And then Gabriel would be concerned about her performance when she returned from battles, making their normal professional interactions awkward and stilted.

She rubbed her temples, trying to focus on the expense reports. This was ridiculous. Chat Noir's teasing shouldn't affect their work dynamic, but somehow it was bleeding into everything.

Her tablet chimed with an akuma alert, and Nathalie felt a strange mix of relief and dread.

"Mayura!" Chat Noir called out cheerfully as she landed on a nearby rooftop. "Flying solo again today? Where's your worse half?"

Mayura bristled. "Not this again—" Releasing her feather, Mayura was determined to focus on her amok and finish this battle as quick as possible.

"Oh, but you two have such amazing synchronization when you're together! It's like you can read each other's minds!" Chat Noir dodged an attack from her sentimonster with a theatrical flourish. "Don't you miss having him right there beside you?"

"I can handle this myself," Mayura said stiffly, but she could feel her concentration wavering.

"I'm sure you can! You're incredibly capable! But there's something special about the way you two move together, isn't there? Like a dance! Very romantic!"

Mayura's sentimonster faltered as her focus slipped. "Chat Noir, if you don't stop talking—"

"I'm just saying, the partnership you have is beautiful! The trust, the connection... I bet Hawkmoth worries about you when you're out here alone."

"He doesn't—" Mayura started, then caught herself. But the damage was done; her sentimonster stood by confused while Ladybug took the moment to break it's amok.

"Maybe we should call for Hawkmoth?" Chat Noir suggested with false innocence. "I mean, if you’re not feeling well..."

"I said I'm fine!" 

Ladybug threw her yo-yo up. "Lucky Charm!"

Chat Noir winked at her and kept distracting, speaking to Mayura "If you're not at full strength, Mayura, maybe it's time for Hawkmoth to come out of his cocoon and spread his wings!"

"That's not necessary—" Mayura began, but she was clearly struggling.

"Oh, I think it is," Chat Noir grinned. "After all, what kind of partner would he be if he didn't come running when you needed him?"

"Nathalie?" Gabriel's voice came from the doorway as she returned from the battle, and she could hear the tension in it. "Are you feeling alright? You seemed... unsteady during the battle."

"I'm fine," she said, not meeting his eyes. "Chat Noir was just being particularly distracting today."

Gabriel moved closer, his brow furrowed with concern. "Perhaps you should rest. I could handle things for the remainder of the day."

"That's not necessary," Nathalie replied, but when she stood up from her desk, she swayed slightly.

Gabriel's hand immediately moved to steady her elbow, just as Chat Noir had insinuated earlier, and they both froze at the contact.

"I should—" she started.

"Yes, you should—I mean, we should—" Gabriel stammered, his face growing red.

They sprang apart, both clearly rattled by how natural the gesture had felt, how it mirrored their interaction as their alter egos.

"I'll be at my desk," Nathalie said stiffly, fleeing before he could respond.

Adrien bounded into the office just as Gabriel and Nathalie were having another stilted moment over the next day's schedule, both of them standing farther apart than usual and speaking in overly formal tones.

"Father! Nathalie! Perfect timing!" He grinned at both of them. "I was wondering if Nathalie could join us for dinner tonight? I've been wanting to ask her about her thoughts on my latest piano pieces, and we never get to talk outside of work!"

Gabriel blinked, looking flustered. "I... suppose that would be fine. If Nathalie doesn't mind."

Nathalie found herself nodding before she could think better of it. "That sounds nice, Adrien."

"Great! I'll tell the chef to set an extra place!"

Dinner started pleasantly enough. Adrien chattered about school and his music, keeping the conversation light and easy. But halfway through the main course, he suddenly jumped up with an exaggerated gasp.

"Oh no! I completely forgot I have an essay due tomorrow for Ms. Bustier's class!" He grabbed his plate. "I'm so sorry, but I really need to work on this. You two should finish dinner though! Don't let me ruin the evening!"

Before either adult could protest, he was gone, leaving Gabriel and Nathalie alone at the large dining table.

They ate in tense silence, both staring determinedly at their food. The Agreste family had always maintained the propriety of not talking during meals, but tonight the quiet felt suffocating.

Gabriel cleared his throat. "The akuma today was... challenging."

"Yes," Nathalie agreed carefully. "Chat Noir was particularly... observant."

"He and Ladybug seem to have developed some very strange theories about our... working relationship."

"Very strange," she echoed, both of them clearly trying not to think about about Chat Noir's pointed comments or how true they could be when they acted as Hawk Moth and Mayura. 

Another long silence stretched between them.

The second akuma alert came three days later, just as Nathalie reached her own apartment. It barely felt like she saw the inside of it these days, with her illness causing her to spend more time than she already did at the Agreste mansion and then all the strange hours she moonlighted as a supervillain. Sometimes Nathalie wondered why she even bothered to pay the rent to maintain such an upscale place when even before the miraculous mess, she'd only ever slept here. Then again, the rumors about her and Gabriel didn't needed to be fueled any further. God knows how much liberty he already takes from her life, no, she would be maintaining her own place, it only to have some proof that Nathalie Sancoeur could exist separately from Gabriel Agreste. An ironic thought nonetheless, given where she had to head now. She took one last look at her untouched dinner, of a glass of wine and a baguette, and decided that it wasn't much to miss anyways before transforming quickly.

"Back for round two!" Chat Noir called out cheerfully. "You know, I've been thinking about what makes a good partnership, and you and Hawkmoth really have it all figured out!"

"Chat Noir," Ladybug warned, but she looked amused, "focus on the akuma."

"I am! But after seeing you two together once... Mayura, don't you feel stronger when Hawkmoth's right there beside you?"

Mayura's concentration wavered again, and she twisted her fan harshly, determined to ignore the cat tonight.

"Mayura!" Chat Noir called out with exaggerated concern. "You're looking a bit pale! Should we call your partner?"

"That's not—" Mayura started, but her head was already pounding. The general decline of her health coupled with the stress of ignoring the strained dynamic between her and Gabriel, and trying to keep up with all her actual work was catching up. 

Mayura felt Hawkmoth contacting her, but the last thing she needed right now was to hear his voice asking after her, making her feel like he could truly care about her. 

"I'm fine" she muttered, "just distracted"

"By thoughts of romance, perhaps?" Chat Noir suggested with a grin.

"Chat Noir," Ladybug said, but she was lookjng thoughtfully at Mayura, "you're terrible."

The rest of the battle passed in a blur of Chat Noir's commentary and meaningful looks between the superhero partners at Mayura's actions.

"I was reading the Ladyblog last night," Adrien announced over breakfast the week after, his tone carefully casual. "It seems like Hawkmoth and Mayura have been working very closely together lately, Father."

Gabriel nearly choked on his coffee, his face immediately flushing. "What?"

"The blogger noticed how Hawkmoth came to help Mayura personally during a battle. She wrote this whole analysis about their partnership and how devoted they are to each other."

Nathalie's fork clattered against her plate, and she could feel her own face heating up.

"Alya also mentioned how natural they look together," Adrien continued, seemingly oblivious to the adults' discomfort. "The way he immediately rush to help when she's in trouble, how she leans on him for support... It's actually really romantic!"

Gabriel was turning an alarming shade of red, clearly remembering how he'd held her, how natural it had felt, how Chat Noir and Ladybug had pointed out their obvious connection.

"True partnership, shared goals, unwavering loyalty..." Adrien sighed dreamily. "Mayura's lucky to have found someone who cares about her so much."

Nathalie couldn't bring herself to look at Gabriel for the rest of the meal. Every time she glanced in his direction, she found him staring at his plate with the same intensity she was applying to her coffee, both of them clearly replaying every moment from the previous battle. Her plate remained untouched. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur of avoided eye contact and quick conversations, both of them hyperaware of every accidental touch, every shared glance, the heroes' observations flustering them both more than they'd ever admit.

"Adrien?" Ms. Bustier's voice cut through his daydreaming. "Can you tell us about the themes in today's reading?"

Adrien blinked, realizing he'd been staring out the window for the past ten minutes, mentally cataloging romantic gestures that might work for his father. "Oh! Um... love? And... misunderstanding?"

"Very good! And how do the characters overcome their obstacles?"

"Communication," Adrien said automatically, then went back to his planning. Maybe he could get Chat Noir to be even more direct during battles...

"Dude, what are you thinking so hard about?" Nino finally asked during lunch, looking exasperated. "You've been in your own world all morning."

"Just... how to make someone fall in love," Adrien blurted out without thinking. "Or see that they're already in love, I guess?"

The table went dead silent. Nino's sandwich fell out of his hands. Alya's eyes went wide. Marinette looked like she'd been punched in the stomach.

"DUDE!" Nino shouted. "You're in love with someone?!"

"Who is it?" Alya demanded, her journalist instincts kicking in. "Do we know her? Is it someone from school?"

Adrien's brain went into panic mode. That was not what he meant to say. Technically, he was trying to help Hawkmoth romance Mayura, but he couldn't exact say he was playing matchmaker for Paris's supervillains using his superhero alter ego.

"It's... it's not me!" he said quickly. "I mean, I'm not the one in love! I just... I see this amazing chemistry between my father and Nathalie, and I think they'd be perfect together, but they're both too stubborn to see it!"

Just like Hawkmoth and Mayura, he thought. The way they move together, trust each other completely, how Hawkmoth immediately comes running when she needs help...

Marinette's expression shifted from heartbreak to confusion. "Your father and Nathalie?"

"They work so well together," Adrien said, warming to the topic because it wasn't technically a lie. "They understand each other completely, they're always in sync, and I can tell they care about each other."

The way Mayura doesn't hesitate to accept Hawkmoth's support, how he immediately rushes to help when she's in trouble, how they seem to communicate without words...

"My father... he needs to move on and be happy, and I think Nathalie could be that happiness for him. I just want them to see their feelings for each other."

And if I can get Hawkmoth to realize he's really in love with Mayura, my father won’t have a chance AND maybe Hawkmoth will stop chasing after LB and my miraculous. Two birds, one stone. Or well two stones technically, but...

"That's actually really sweet," Alya said, her expression softening. "You want your dad to find love again."

"Exactly!" Adrien nodded vigorously. "But I have no idea about romance, so..."

Well, I know enough to recognize it when I see it. The way Hawkmoth's whole demeanor changes when Mayura's around, how protective he gets...

"We'll help!" Marinette said immediately, her earlier sadness replaced by determination. "This is so romantic! A cold CEO finding love with his devoted assistant!"

Unfortunately, before Adrien could implement "Operation Get Father a Girlfriend!" the universe was clearly against him. That's the only reason why his father, notorious recluse, would be caught in the crossfire of an akuma battle, in the one event he decided to attend this month, for Audrey Bourgeois's latest fashion showcase.

Adrien had been so excited when Gabriel announced he'd be attending the outdoor exhibition. Finally, he'd thought, a chance for Father to get out and maybe meet someone! He'd even suggested Nathalie accompany them, but she'd insisted on staying back to handle some "urgent business."

Now, crouched behind an overturned café table as Chat Noir, Adrien was beginning to understand why the universe had a sense of humor—and why it was apparently very, very twisted.

"Citizens of Paris!" the akuma—some heartbroken wedding planner calling himself Cupid's Arrow—declared from atop the Grand Palais. "Love is the only path to happiness! I will ensure everyone finds their perfect match, whether they want to or not!"

Pink arrows began raining down on the crowd, and anyone struck immediately became obsessed with the first person they saw. Chaos erupted as people began professing their undying love to complete strangers.

"We need to get everyone to safety," Ladybug said, dodging a particularly large arrow. "Chat Noir, can you—"

She stopped mid-sentence, staring at something behind him with an expression of complete bewilderment.

Chat Noir turned to see what had caught her attention and immediately wished he hadn't.

Gabriel Agreste stood in the middle of the chaos, completely ignoring the pink arrows whizzing past his head, gazing up at the sky with the most ridiculous lovesick expression Adrien had ever seen on his father's face.

"My goddess," Gabriel sighed dramatically, his hand pressed to his heart. "How you soar through the sky like poetry in motion, draped in the most exquisite royal blue..."

Chat Noir followed his father's gaze and felt his stomach drop. Mayura was descending from above, clearly having just arrived to assist with the akuma.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

"The way the light catches the feathers of your costume," Gabriel continued, apparently having lost all sense of self-preservation, "like sapphires dancing in moonlight! And those legs! The way you balance so effortlessly on rooftops, the elegant line from hip to ankle... you are a vision of elegance and power!"

Mayura landed on a nearby rooftop, stumbling in a way that made it clear she had heard every word. 

"Did Gabr-did a civilian just start flirting with Mayura?" Ladybug whispered, sounding equal parts confused and disturbed.

Chat Noir wanted to disappear into the ground. Or transform back and drag his father to safety. Or possibly both.

Gabriel had somehow procured a rose from a nearby flower stand and was now holding it aloft. "A flower for a goddess! Though no bloom could ever match your beauty!"

Mayura tried to focus, pulling out a feather to create a sentimonster, but Gabriel's voice carried across the square again.

"Your grace, your poise! You move like a dancer, fight like a warrior! That Hawkmoth doesn't appreciate you like I can!"

Mayura's eyes went wide. "Sir?!" Her shock didn't let her register her slip of the tongue. The feather in her hand fluttered weakly as her concentration shattered completely.

"Where is Hawkmoth anyway?" Ladybug muttered, ducking behind a chimney and pulling Chat Noir with her. "Shouldn't he be stopping this? This guy is hitting on his girlfriend and he's just... letting it happen?"

"I mean, think about it," Ladybug continued. "Hawkmoth always sends her out to fight alone, barely shows up to help her, and now some random civilian is treating her like a queen and he's nowhere to be found? Maybe we should just... leave it alone?"

"WHAT?!" Chat Noir yelped. This was SO not how his plan was supposed to go! And on top of that, he still hadn't understood how Mayura was the one his father saw first, wasn't there some other poor unsuspecting stranger that could have borne the brunt of his persistent...admirations?!

"I'm just saying! This Gabriel guy seems to actually appreciate her! When's the last time we saw Hawkmoth treat her with any respect?"

"We can't let this happen!" Chat Noir said desperately.

"Why not? It's not like we're rooting for Hawkmoth! If Mayura wants to ditch him for someone who actually treats her well—"

"Because!" Chat Noir flailed. "Because... because Adrien couldn't handle Mayura as a stepmother!"

Ladybug blinked. "You know Adrien?"

Chat Noir's brain went into full panic mode. "I... uh... I know people who work with... around... near Adrien! Loosely! Very loosely! Like, acquaintances of acquaintances!"

"Okay..." Ladybug said slowly, clearly not buying it but letting it slide. "But wait... it's that serious? You think this random flirtation could lead to marriage?"

"Isn't it?" Chat Noir asked, looking genuinely confused. "Romance equals marriage, right? That's how it works?"

"Chat Noir, they literally met twice—"

"But he's flirting with her! And complimenting her legs! That's basically a proposal!" Though dear god, he did not need to be thinking about his father flirting OR about Mayura's legs OR that his father apparently notices it enough to point it out in a way that seems beyond appreciation of her aesthetics. NOnono, his father is a fashion designer, all bodies are basically just lumps of meat to him, it doesn't mean anything.

Ladybug stared at him. "Have you ever actually dated anyone?"

Before Chat Noir could answer, they watched as barrage of pink arrows went above their heads, suddenly raining down on Mayura's position. She twisted and turned, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, but one particularly large arrow forced her to dive sideways. 

She catapulted elegantly in the air and landed on the street below, waving her fan to avoid any more stray arrows. 

And of course—because the universe continued its twisted sense of humor—Gabriel was right there.

"Mayura!" he exclaimed, immediately rushing to her side. "Are you injured?"

"I'm fine, si-Monsieur" Mayura said breathlessly, but she was clearly stunned.

"Your dedication to your craft is inspiring!" Gabriel declared, "The way you move with such grace..."

"Uh... I have to... the akuma..." Mayura managed weakly, trying to pull out another feather, while slowly walking backwards.

"Of course! But that Hawkmoth should be here protecting you, not leaving you to handle everything alone!" Gabriel said, his voice full of concern.

"A token of my admiration," he said, coming closer to offer her the flower he had somehow kept in perfect condition with a flourish. "Your hands are so elegant—like a pianist's, or an artist's. Do you paint, by any chance?"

Before Mayura could react, Gabriel gently took her hand in both of his, examining it with the reverence of someone studying a masterpiece.

"Such graceful fingers, such strength... truly the hands of a goddess."

Mayura went completely rigid, frozen in place as Gabriel lifted her hand toward his lips. She could feel his breath through the gloves of her suit. A small, traitorous part of her wished she'd cut off the design of her dress at her wrists, leaving her hands free to feel his skin to skin. That part was very quickly stomped out. 

Choosing that moment to chase after the akuma, meant that Chat Noir found himself with a front row view, losing his grip on his baton and crashing into a nearby chimney.

Gabriel pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, his eyes never leaving her face. "Until we meet again, my blue goddess!"

And with that, he released her hand and somehow managed to leap away with inexplicable agility, apparently heading for safety.

Mayura remained frozen in place, staring at her hand where he'd kissed it, her cheeks glowing a dark magenta.

"Did that just happen?" Ladybug asked faintly.

Chat Noir was lying in a pile of broken chimney bricks, staring at the sky and questioning every life choice that had led him to this moment.

"Chat?" Ladybug called out. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Worse," he croaked. "I've seen my father's game."

"What game?"

"Nothing!" Chat Noir scrambled to his feet, trying to shake off the existential horror. "We need to talk about this later, but right now we have an akuma to deal with!"

"Later," Ladybug agreed, still looking confused. "Definitely later."

His father had just serenaded, flirted with, and kissed the hand of Paris’s supervillainess while she was trying to help akumatize someone.

And the worst part?

It had actually been kind of romantic.

Adrien was never going to recover from this.