#minibug

Two red lines. 

It always began this way.

Marinette let out a slow, measured breath. She leaned against the wall, swallowing around her pulse as it pounded in her throat. The cool bathroom tile pressed against her legs as her trembling fingers clenched around the slim, smooth plastic of a pregnancy test.

Marinette sucked in another breath. She held it for a moment, two, before releasing it in a long exhale.

She allowed herself a moment to gather her thoughts. Ground herself in her senses.

The sound of her daughter’s laughter rose faintly from downstairs, while the scent of warm spices and sizzling meat drifted from the kitchen. Just outside the bathroom door, came a meow, followed by a fluffy brown paw slipping underneath the gap. 

Marinette’s lips curved into a smile. She reached down to gently poke the paw, chuckling when it disappeared with another plaintive mewl.

Her heartbeat calmed, and the tension slowly melted from her muscles.

Okay, she thought. I’m okay.

She took another breath, just for good measure.

Then she finally let her eyes fall to the test in her quivering hands.

The red lines stared back.

“Ladybug!” Chat Noir exclaimed as he watched his partner stumble over her own feet and hit the ground hard.

He sprang off the curb and struck the pavement running, closing the gap between them in a blink. Dropping to one knee beside Ladybug, his gaze swept over her, checking for any blood or twisted limbs. She seemed fine, so he offered his hand. She took it, and he hauled her upright with a single, effortless pull.

“Ow,” she grumbled.

“Are you alright?” he asked, unable to mask the worry from leaking into his voice.

She groaned, her face twisting in discomfort as she dusted herself off. “I’ll manage,” she sighed. “Let’s make quick work of this Akuma.”

Though he frowned, his ears drooping in concern, Chat Noir nodded, shifting his focus back to the fight. The day's Akuma was a phantom-like woman venting her rage at the world, lamenting being passed over for a promotion or something along those lines. Chat Noir had hardly been paying attention to her monologuing. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was neutralizing the threat.

(And, by extension, keeping Ladybug safe.

She didn’t need his protection—that much was true—but she still seemed off today. Off enough to warrant a little extra caution.)

After her maternity leave, Ladybug’s strength had returned, and their patrols and Akuma battles had settled into a semi-regular rhythm. Her suit no longer timed out after multiple Lucky Charms. On the surface, she seemed okay. Happy, even.

But Chat Noir was no fool.