“WAAAAH!” Marinette screeched, her things tumbling from her arms as she whirled around, realized she was facing the door, and whirled again, flailing for a moment before finding a defensive stance. 

When she finally comprehended what she was looking at, she felt momentarily dizzy with confusion as past and present collided behind her eyes. It had been more than ten years since she had stepped over the raised lip of the Liberty’s cabin door before being startled in exactly the same way—and by the same boy. Man. Which was it?

Reality slowly resolved itself as she stared at Luka Couffaine, sitting cross-legged on her couch and regarding her calmly, hands on his knees. His shoulders were broader and his face was leaner, more adult than it had been and with an even darker tan, but it was unmistakably him. It didn’t help her confusion that he still wore blue streaks in his hair and a ratty tshirt, and his knees still peeked through the holes of his jeans. A hoodie lay over the arm of the couch beside him. 

His chuckle was the same, too, and his words proved he was thinking of that moment just as she was. “Sorry. Ma-Ma-Marinette.” He grinned, and unfolded himself to stand up and hold out his arms. “I’ve missed you.”

“L-Luka,” Marinette breathed, and then grinned herself, rushing into his arms for the hug he offered. He squeezed her tight, chuckling again as he rested his cheek on the top of her head. He was taller than he had been, and though still lanky, she could feel the firm muscle of his back beneath her hands. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, pulling back to look up at his face. “I haven’t seen you in ages! How long are you back in Paris for?” 

Luka let her slide out of his embrace and brought one hand to the back of his head, tugging lightly on his hair as he gathered himself to answer her question.

“Well, all of that’s kind of related, actually,” he told her. 

“How did you find me?” Marinette demanded, and Luka hooked a thumb back over his shoulder, and Marinette followed the motion to the staff leaning against the wall. The sight of it made her gut grow cold, and she swallowed, eyes flicking back to Luka. He tilted his head slightly, and she knew he had noticed her reaction, but his eyes slid away and he let it pass without comment. He coughed lightly, and looked at the floor. 

“Technically, I found the kwamis,” he said, giving her another lopsided grin. He tugged his hair again before lowering his hands deliberately. His self-consciousness made Marinette feel the same. “I’m sorry I didn’t call first. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to say.” 

“That’s okay.” Marinette shook her head, and found mustering a smile harder than it should have been, but she managed it. “I’m just glad to see you. Um, give me a minute to change, and…?” And what? She didn’t know, but Luka waved a hand, absolving her of the need to come up with something.

“Go ahead. Do whatever you need to do. I’m not going anywhere.” 

For how long? Marinette wanted to ask, but instead she just gathered up her things she had dropped, and moved past Luka to her bedroom.

“Um,” Luka said, and Marinette half-turned. “I could order dinner? I know I’m interrupting your plans, so…” 

“I didn’t really have a plan,” Marinette admitted. He raised an eyebrow, and she amended, “Not for dinner, anyway. There’s some menus in the kitchen drawer.”

“Color code still the same?” he asked, clearly fighting another smile, and Marinette blushed. 

“Yes,” she said, and went into her bedroom before he could say anything else. She locked the door, and the click made her feel a little better, even though the Luka she had known would never have followed her without knocking. 

That was a long time ago, though, and the Guardians as a whole had well-known issues with boundaries. She wondered if Luka knew that this was one of those obscure kwami holidays where they all gathered in the Miracle Box overnight - or longer. The kwamis often had a loose grasp of time. Had Luka come tonight on purpose, so they wouldn’t be interrupted?

She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. 

Marinette decided to go ahead and take a shower to give herself a little extra time before she had to face Luka again. She almost wished she hadn’t decided to change. Her work clothes lent her a professionalism she never would have thought she needed in front of Luka, but…

He was a Guardian now, and so was she, though she had never really felt like one. She was a Guardian and a holder, which was technically forbidden, and somehow visits from the Guardians had never gone well for her.

It had been a shock when Luka had returned to Paris as Su Han’s pupil, but Marinette understood why he had done it. She always had. He was trying to help in the only way he could think of, and he had helped, while she needed him. After that, though…he’d kind of disappeared. She got postcards from him for a while, but they were always short and not very Luka-like, and eventually they stopped all together. She had moved a few times, and had no way to send Luka her new address, so she wasn’t sure if the cards just didn’t get forwarded anymore or if Luka had stopped sending them. He could have sent them to the bakery, though, knowing they would get to her eventually, and…he hadn’t.

She reached for a clean pair of jeans without even thinking about it. Normally she would have worn something fuzzy and comfortable after she got home, and with the old Luka, she wouldn’t have hesitated. But this wasn’t the old Luka, this was Guardian Luka, even if he didn’t dress like it, and after all they were adults now, adults who hadn’t seen each other in years. Instinctively she knew they were not on pajama terms. She grabbed a soft shirt she had made that was comfortable but decorative, ruffled at the bottom and embroidered around the collar. Hangout clothes, but not too casual. 

Luka was just opening the door for the delivery when Marinette emerged, and for a moment there was natural occupation and conversation as they got dinner set up. It felt comfortable, in those moments, and they smiled at each other across Marinette’s small table as they sat down.

Silence fell between them once they started eating though. Luka was glancing at her from under his hair periodically. He had always understood her, and it had always been a relief before, but now she felt afraid of his insights.

“So,” she said, with an attempt at brightness. “How’s the Guardian life?” 

“It’s…interesting,” he answered, stirring the noodles on his plate. “The travel is nice. I’ve been a lot of really cool places, met some really cool people.” Another one of those darting glances, and then a tentative grin. “The rules kinda suck, though.” 

Marinette snorted, and covered her mouth full of food with her hand as she tried not to choke. Luka covered his own mouth to smother a laugh, and in a moment they were giggling together. 

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Marinette gasped, when she was able. 

“I know.” Luka’s grin was full force and sincere, now, and he was looking directly at her. “That’s why I can tell you. It feels good to be able to admit it.” 

Marinette felt a pang of sympathy. “It must be hard for you, having to keep so many secrets.” 

Luka nodded, gaze dropping to his plate. “Definitely not one of my favorite parts of the job. And as cool as the travel is, I miss home. I miss having a home. I mean, there’s the temple, but it’s…” He shook his head. 

“Not your style?” Marinette suggested, and Luka nodded.

“Exactly. I mean, Tibet is gorgeous, and there’s a lot about it I love, but it’s not home.” He reached out a hand tentatively across the table. “And I miss my friends.” 

Marinette couldn’t not meet him halfway after that, and she put her hand in his and squeezed. “I’m glad they haven’t changed you too much,” she blurted, without meaning to, and then winced. “I mean—” 

“No, that’s fair.” Luka gave her hand one more squeeze before releasing it. “They definitely tried.” He shook his head, like he was shaking off memories that she could only guess at. 

Before she could decide whether or not to ask, Luka smiled at her. “We can talk about all that later,” he said. “I want to hear about you. Tell me everything you’ve been up to.” 

Marinette hesitated. “What do you want to know?”

Luka leaned forward a little, still smiling. “What are you most excited to tell me?”

That was an easy question, and Marinette laughed. Once she committed to a topic, the rest was easy. Luka was such a good listener, and he always seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. He asked thoughtful questions, gave her time to right herself when she got tangled up in what she was trying to say, and his eyes stayed fixed on her. Not in an uncomfortable way like the bewildered stare she got from most people, but in a way that made her feel like she held all of his attention in that moment. 

It felt…really good to be listened to, and she felt herself relaxing into something more like their old comfortable camaraderie. Luka was still Luka, after all, she thought, as she made them both hot chocolate after dinner.

“So,” Marinette said, sitting down on the couch beside him. She handed him his mug and folded her legs up beside her, not caring anymore that it made her lean towards him a little bit. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here?” 

Luka sighed, and sipped the chocolate before setting the mug down on her coffee table. “I don’t think you’re going to like it.” Before Marinette could do more than freeze in fear, he added quickly, “I’m not here to take the Miracle Box.” He smiled as she relaxed. “You are Ladybug. I can’t imagine anybody else for the job. You’ve protected the Miracle Box and you’ve used the kwami’s powers for good.” He chuckled. “The Guardians are a little sour about it, actually, because you’re so…unconventional. To them, at least.” 

Marinette groaned, letting her head fall back, and Luka laughed, putting a hand on her shoulder. She lifted her head and smiled at him, touched by the old gesture.“So what are you here for, then?” 

Luka withdrew his hand. “I’m here for Nooroo,” he replied simply, watching her.

Marinette tensed up again. “What do you mean?” she asked - demanded, really, though she didn’t mean to be so sharp with Luka.

Luka raised his hands placatingly. “I know that he’s been through a lot. That’s why we’ve let him be for the last ten years.” It gave her a little chill to hear him say we. As unconventional as Luka might be, he was still a Guardian, and Marinette was sure he held whatever promises he had made to the order sacred. “The Order has…well, I guess you could say it’s a ‘get back on the horse’ philosophy. When a kwami’s been treated badly, they don’t like to leave them alone for too long. Healing is one thing, wallowing is another, as one of them put it.” He hesitated, and then admitted, “Honestly, they wanted to do it sooner, and I’ve actually talked them into holding off a couple of times. I wanted to make sure that we find him the right holder, after everything he’s been through. I know how much you must care about him, just like you care about everyone you protect, and I didn’t want to let you down by rushing into something that might not be right.”

Marinette felt heat flush her face, and couldn’t hold his gaze. Luka put a hand on her back. “I think I’ve found someone that will work for him. I want you to meet her first.”

“Her?” Marinette said automatically, looking up. Luka nodded, and then sighed dramatically, raising his hands helplessly.

“It’s my lot in life to be surrounded by powerful women,” he said mournfully, and then grinned. “Not that I’m complaining.” 

Marinette laughed, and they both relaxed a little. 

“She’s an adult,” Luka assured her, “and she has a very nurturing nature, but she’s suffered in the past when people have taken advantage of that. Even so, she still believes in people. I think she and Nooroo can help each other.”

Marinette’s lips thinned as she thought about it. “What about Nooroo’s choice? It doesn’t count to the Order, does it?”

“It counts to me,” Luka said firmly, and there was an authority in his voice that made Marinette blink in surprise. He folded his arms. “That’s one of the things I fight most with the Order about. I won’t force a kwami to take on a holder. Ever. They have few enough choices already, and I’m still not convinced the entire existence of the Miraculous isn’t unethical.” He sighed. “But I can’t change everything at once. The fact is the Order needs me and my connections and understanding of the modern world, so I have some leverage to do things my own way, but it only goes so far. Freeing the kwamis would be such a radical change in their thinking that I don’t think they can even conceive of it.” He gave a lopsided grin. “Yet.” 

Marinette felt a smile spreading across her face. “They really haven’t managed to change you, have they?”

“I hope not,” Luka shrugged. “Not so much that I’d be okay with the eternal subjugation of another thinking being.” He sighed. “I can’t deny the kwamis do a lot of good in the world in the right hands. I still don’t think it’s right.” 

Impulsively, Marinette leaned forward and hugged him. “I’m glad you’re still you,” she managed to get out, and after a frozen moment of surprise, Luka’s arm’s snaked around her waist and pulled her close. He was strong, she realized, and of course he would be, having taken up martial arts training as part of being a guardian. She just…hadn’t realized she would like it so much. 

Embarrassed, she pulled away, smoothing her hair back to have something to do with her hands and maybe to erase the feel of Luka’s muscles under her palms. Her gaze crossed his and they both quickly looked away. Time had clearly dulled her memory of how intense his eyes could be when he was passionate about something. It was almost enough to make her believe he could change the Order. 

“I do want to talk to Nooroo first,” Luka continued, settling back on the couch and picking up his mug again. “I know a new holder will probably be frightening for him, and I’d like to explain and let him meet her too before I spring all of this on her.”

“Is—she’s in Paris?” Marinette frowned. “How long have you been in town?” 

“A few weeks,” he admitted. “And to be totally honest, I’ve been in Paris, or near Paris, off and on for a while now. I wanted to find a holder in or close to Paris. You’re Nooroo’s guardian, after all, and I know you’d want to be able to keep an eye on his new holder, so I tried hard to find someone here.” He glanced at her, nervous again. “I didn’t know whether you’d be happy or upset that I was back, so I put off coming to see you until I knew for sure that I had found the person I wanted.” 

Marinette looked down into her own mug, not sure herself whether she was happy or upset to hear that. He’d been so close, and he hadn’t come to see her until now.

“This way you don’t have to work with me any longer than necessary,” he added quietly. 

Marinette looked down into her mug, breathing in the scented steam. “Why do you think I don’t want to see you?” she asked, keeping her tone as even as possible.

Luka let out a little half-chuckle, half-sigh through his nose, a familiar sound that brought the past vividly back to her again. “I thought you’d be upset that I stayed away for so long. That you might have convinced yourself that I didn’t care about you anymore, and it would make you uncomfortable.” 

Marinette bit her lip, trying to decide if she wanted to ask the next question. Not for the first time, Luka answered it without her having to ask.

“I wrote you at first because I missed you, but it never felt…natural. There were so many things it wasn’t safe to talk about in a postcard, and I had a hard time getting around that to put my real thoughts down. It was never the most natural thing for me, writing. I couldn’t really send you a song.” He sipped his tea. “I didn’t make music for a while after I left Paris, actually. The whole thing with Bob Roth…it just soured the melody for me, I guess.” 

“You don’t play anymore?” Marinette ventured, unable to imagine a Luka without music, and he smiled at her.

“I do, now. I learned a few new instruments while I was traveling, and eventually I started playing guitar again.”

Marinette let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and smiled back. “I’m glad.” Remembering his own words years ago, she added, “It’s your nature.”

Luka gave a slight nod, and then continued. “Anyway, I felt like I was never able to get things right, and you couldn’t write me back, so…eventually I just stopped. I thought maybe it was better for both of us if I just let you go.” 

“I understand,” said Marinette, trying to be cheerful, though there was a lump in her throat. “Besides, you had so much to do, and you were going so many places and seeing so many people, plus your training was so important, it would have been hard to—”

“I didn’t say it worked,” Luka interrupted, a wry amusement in his tone. “I meant it when I said I missed you.”

Marinette closed her mouth abruptly, blinking. Luka reached out and put a hand on her forearm. “I’m really glad to see you again, Marinette. I know you don’t have a lot of reason to trust Guardians, but I promise you, I’m not here to do any harm or criticize you at all. I still think you’re an exceptional holder and absolutely worthy to protect the Miracle Box. I’m still your friend, if you want me.” 

“I do,” she blurted quickly, and blushed. “I mean—”

Luka smiled, and stood up, taking his mug over to her sink. “I should go. I know you must be tired and have a thousand things to do. I just wanted to see you and explain while the kwamis are busy. If you don’t mind, I’ll come by again tomorrow to talk to Nooroo?”

“Uh, sure.” Marinette scrambled to her feet, trailing after him towards the door. He paused to pick up his staff, and then turned to face her. 

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” He put his hand on her shoulder, and his smile was both affectionate and a little sad. “Thanks for hearing me out.” 

He turned to scoop up his hoodie and went to grab his staff. As he moved towards the door, Marinette took a step forward on impulse. “Luka.” 

Luka paused, looking back. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” she said softly. “I missed you too.” 

Luka's smile lightened, and his shoulders lowered a fraction. “Goodnight, Marinette,” he said, and she gave him a little wave as he let himself out.

“Sass, my friend.” Luka lit up, and Marinette had never seen Sass so openly happy. She couldn’t help but smile as the kwami cuddled up to Luka’s cheek, and Luka cupped a hand around him in the best hug he could give.

She turned away to give them a moment of privacy, and caught Nooroo hovering behind her. He started slightly, but Marinette smiled at him. 

“It’s okay. He’s my friend.” She held out her hand. “And I won’t let anything happen to you, anyway.”

Nooroo drifted forward, and landed in her palm, and Marinette shielded him with her other hand before turning so that Nooroo could see Luka. Luka acted like he hadn’t noticed them at all, but Marinette was pretty sure it was an act. He was giving Nooroo space to get used to him. Seeing Sass’ unbridled joy at being with Luka again might help the traumatized little butterfly god relax. 

Eventually Nooroo began peeking around Marinette’s fingers to get a better look, and only then did Luka look their way and smile. 

“Marinette,” he said warmly, and Marinette felt herself blush. She’d noticed last night that his voice was deeper than it used to be, but hearing it like that, warm and velvety around her name, made her feel suddenly all shivery. Nooroo glanced up at her and her hands jerked with the urge to toss the little empath away from her. Nooroo hurriedly looked away, but she thought he was smirking. 

Sass was definitely smirking as he flitted away back to his nest. 

Well, at least it seemed like Nooroo was feeling more comfortable.

She was glad when Luka suggested they all sit down. Nooroo perched on her knee as Luka explained the situation to him, and Marinette’s heart broke as Nooroo began to shrink into himself at the prospect of a new holder. 

“Nobody is going to force you to do anything,” Luka finished firmly. “You know that I mean that, don’t you?” After some hesitation, Nooroo nodded slowly. 

“Do you want to see her?” Luka suggested. Marinette and Nooroo both looked at him. “You could look for her,” Luka suggested, and Nooroo jolted slightly, hopping to Marinette’s other knee. 

“I would need…someone to transform with,” Nooroo said, looking at Luka with wide, frightened eyes.

“It doesn’t have to be me,” Luka told him reassuringly. “Do you trust Marinette, if she’s willing?” He looked up at Marinette for the first time since the conversation began. “If you transform with him, you’ll be able to sense the person I’m talking about. You can feel her out—literally.” 

He grinned, and Marinette couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Luka looked back at Nooroo. 

“If you don’t want to, I know Marinette won’t make you, and neither will I. I think you know, though, that she wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.” Luka gave Marinette a warm smile.

Not on purpose, Marinette thought. She’d actually had a lot of talks with Nooroo over the years, whenever she tripped over her feelings and created a mess that she didn’t intend. Unsurprisingly, he had a better grasp of human feelings than the other kwamis, and how those feelings could spur people on to do things they might not normally do. She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t want to take this chance.

She was startled from her thoughts when Nooroo rose from her knee. Her gaze followed him as he crossed the room and disappeared in the closet. He returned with his Miraculous, and slowly, he brought it to Marinette.

Marinette took a deep breath as she accepted it, and looked at Luka. “What do I look for?”

Luka shook his head. “I can’t really tell you. It looks different to everyone. She’s…balanced, though. Steady.” He shrugged. “Just try. Look for someone…” He smiled. “Extraordinary.”

Marinette rolled her eyes with a self-conscious smile, and called for the transformation. 

It was…not what she had expected. 

“What do you see?” Luka asked softly.

“Colors,” Marinette whispered. “Patterns, I think—” She took a shuddering breath. “But it’s so dark…it’s fear, and anger, and—” She felt tears pricking her eyes. “So much pain.”

“No, it isn’t,” Luka urged. “That’s just a part of it. Nooroo’s attuned to it now after Hawkmoth’s abuse. You can look past it. You can see it as just a part of the whole. Emotions aren’t good or bad unless we perceive them that way.” He hesitated, and then said firmly, “Look at me.” 

It wasn’t so much a physical looking, as a focusing of her attention. She wrenched her mind from the dark, angry, confused colors that threatened to overcome her, and focused on the presence there beside her. 

He was…cool, and shining. His patterns didn’t clash, they flowed. Some of the dark colors were there, but they moved tranquilly along with the rest, neither consuming them nor being overcome, just…there. She saw his kindness, and his deep love for his family, the cold tide of his anger, the warm glow of his patience, and—

She gasped and looked away. It felt wrong to be able to see him this way. 

“I’m not afraid,” Luka murmured, and she knew he lied. She could see the fear tangled around the other feelings, but it was natural enough to be afraid of being so exposed, even with the people you trusted most. And he did trust her—she could see the steady pulse of it, threaded through that other thing she didn’t want to name. That was what he meant, when he said he wasn’t afraid. It was terrifying to be so exposed, but he trusted her not to use what she saw to hurt him.

Was this what it was like to be Luka? To hear what people said, but also sense what they meant that they couldn’t say? Except she needed magic for it, and Luka did it naturally. She’d never asked him whether he literally heard people’s “inner melody” or if music was just the only way he knew how to process what all his intuitive observations were telling him. Merged with Nooroo like this, she saw things in patterns and color and light - would it sound like a symphony to him?

Focus. She tore her awareness away from Luka, though her heart pounded at what she saw there. Later. She would think about that later. She reached out again eagerly, afraid to dwell on what she could see in Luka’s heart.

Without Luka as her focus, the negativity threatened to overwhelm her again, but she took slow breaths and did her best to focus on the things Luka had shown her — steadiness, peace, gentleness, love, empathy. Gradually, the pinpoints of light became clearer, the colors less muddy, and Marinette felt herself smile as the sparks of hope, loyalty, love of all kinds, generosity, and emotions she couldn’t even name began to show through…

There was one that drew her in and warmed her; it was diffuse, unfocused. Not meant for a single person but a general feeling of generosity and goodwill that reached out from a shadowed center. People were complex, after all, and it was unrealistic to expect them to be all light. There was pain, anger, regret - but they felt more neutral somehow. She remembered what Luka said about emotions not inherently being bad or good; love could be twisted, rage could be righteous. She realized she had felt this same neutrality in Luka’s aura, and understood that this person was like him in this way, able to accept her feelings without assigning judgement to them. Balanced. 

This had to be who he meant.

“I found her,” she whispered. 

She felt rather than saw Luka’s smile, a little swell of pride and affection that once again made her afraid to look at him too closely. She studied the new person instead.

“She hurts,” Marinette whispered, empathy coloring her own emotions. 

“Yes,” Luka agreed. “She hurts, but she doesn’t suffer.” 

It was true, Marinette thought, as she watched the feelings shift and swirl. The pain was a part of the person, but not the whole. Not all-consuming, as Hawkmoth’s was. It was focused - this person had given it purpose, but without Hawkmoth’s obsession. Without thinking, Marinette lifted her hand, and a white butterfly landed on it, wings placidly opening and closing as it waited. This person could do so much - could help so many. She was a worthy champion.

Marinette felt Luka’s touch on her wrist, and remembered herself. This woman was worthy to be a champion, of course, but that wasn’t why she was here, and there was no one right now that needed saving. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The butterfly flitted away, apparently unbothered by the unnecessary summons. 

Marinette gathered awareness back to herself, and, because she couldn’t quite help it, she looked at Luka again. He radiated approval and pride and—she couldn’t deny it—love. It hardly felt possible to her that he could still love her so much, and yet so quietly. 

She shouldn’t be seeing this. She closed her eyes and whispered the words, and when she opened them again there was only her living room, and Luka’s gentle smile. Nooroo hovered in front of her, frowning thoughtfully, and Marinette brought her hands under him so that he could perch on them. Luka picked up the bowl of grapes Marinette had set out, and offered it to Nooroo.

Nooroo took a grape slowly in both paws, and nibbled it, his large eyes narrowed slightly. Marinette didn’t think he was glaring at them, though, his look seemed turned inward.  

“What do you think, Nooroo?” Luka asked quietly, setting the bowl down and sinking to sit cross-legged on the floor.

Marinette knelt to sit with him, with Nooroo still in her hands. He seemed to come back to himself. 

“I don’t know,” the kwami said, slowly, and Marinette felt a little spark of hope. That wasn’t a rejection. He was thinking about it, at least.

“I understand. How would you feel about meeting her in person?” 

Marinette and Nooroo both looked at Luka. 

“She owns a cafe across town,” Luka continued. “Marinette and I can go have a date there, and you can watch her for a while.” He winked at Marinette, grinning, and Marinette spluttered. Nooroo looked at her curiously, and Luka gave one of his little huffing laughs as he stood up.

“I’ll meet you there on Sunday, then,” Luka smiled, and stood up. “I’ll text you the address. Goodnight, Nooroo. Marinette.” 

“Good night, Luka,” Marinette said, her heart still beating hard. She twisted to watch him as he stepped past her to let himself out. 

“He is a good Guardian,” Nooroo murmured softly, once the door had clicked shut.

Marinette smiled, still looking at the door. “Because he cares.” 

“He cares about you.” 

Marinette looked at the little kwami in surprise, and Nooroo merely gazed up at her. 

“You know he does,” Nooroo pointed out. “You saw it.”

Marinette’s shoulders curled in a little in embarrassment. “I feel like that wasn’t something I should have seen.”

“He knew you would see it,” Nooroo said thoughtfully. “He told you to look. He is very brave. Not many people can hold their feelings like that so openly. Humans like to hide from feelings.”

“Your new holder—” Nooroo winced. “Potential holder,” Marinette amended. “She is like that.”

“Mm. So it seems, but…” Nooroo’s expression was turned inward again, and Marintte’s smile faded as she recognized his brooding mood.. “Excuse me, Guardian.” He lifted from her hands and zipped away too quickly for Marinette to even see where he went. He didn’t want to be followed, she thought.

Marinette sighed, and fell back to flop on the floor, letting her mind turn to more mundane matters.

So technically, she had a date with Luka. He was joking, of course, it was just a cover so they could meet up plausibly, but…she remembered those feelings she had seen when she was transformed.

She put both hands over her face and screamed quietly into them.

Paris had no shortage of bistros and cafes, and as Marinette walked into this one, she couldn’t help feeling that it fit the stereotype. Round tables outside with decorative umbrellas, and small tables with wire chairs inside, plus a corner done up as a sitting area with comfortable chairs and a couch. Nothing to suggest that the next hero of Paris worked here.

Marinette picked up her menu automatically as she was seated, but she wasn’t really looking at it. Instead, she looked around, taking in the atmosphere and trying to notice details, but she found herself a bit distracted. She hadn’t seen Luka since he’d proposed this “date,” though they had talked over text a few times. A few days to sit with what she’d seen in him hadn’t resolved her confusion, and neither had his texts, which seemed so…normal. Updates on places he had stopped by, old friends he had seen, a picture of a music shop that looked like it must have been around for decades - if not centuries. Marinette wasn’t sure what to think. 

“Are you doing all right?” 

Marinette started a little, and then looked up into the face of the woman standing next to her. She held a round tray clutched to her chest, and her smile was shy but sincere. She had beautiful dark hair tied up in an elaborate braided bun, and dark, soft eyes. She wore a name tag that said Eve. Marinette found herself smiling back. 

“I’m fine. I’m just waiting for my f—for my, um,” she had a hard time getting the word date out of her mouth. You’d think after so much lying I’d be better at it.

“You’re meeting someone special?” the woman asked, and Marinette nodded. That was the truth, at least, so it was easier to admit it. 

“I guess he’s running a little late,” she said, flipping her phone over to check the time. “I can order something, if—” 

“Oh, no, no,” Eve waved a hand frantically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to rush you. You just looked, so, er…” She smiled, hunching her shoulders a little. “Unsettled? I don’t mean to be rude. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Oh,” Marinette blinked, and then smiled. “Thanks for checking on me, um, Eve.”

“It’s my job,” Eve said cheerfully, and gestured vaguely to the cafe. “My grandmother left me this place, and I always try to keep it as welcoming as it was when she was in charge.”  

“Oh, wow.” Marinette was genuinely impressed. “My parents own a bakery, and I know how much work it is to run your own business. I’m Marinette, by the way.” She held out her hand and Eve gave it a little shake, sliding into the seat across from Marinette. “Have you always wanted to run the cafe?” 

Eve winced. “Not really, to be honest. But this place has kept me going through some really hard things, so I’ve come to love it. I’m studying psychology after hours.” 

“It’s hard, working and studying at the same time,” Marinette sighed. She knew that all too well.

Eve hummed agreement. Marinette checked her phone again. It seemed unlike Luka to be late like this—but she’d certainly left him hanging often enough. She couldn’t blame him.

“Worried?” Eve asked gently.

“A little,” Marinette admitted. “I don’t think he’d stand me up, but I’m a little surprised he’s not here yet. I hope nothing happened.” 

“Is it your first date?” 

“Yes. I mean no. I mean—” Marinette slapped her hands onto her face. “The first date was a long time ago, and it…things didn’t go so well back then.”

“But you’re different people now,” Eve said, tapping the table in front of them lightly as if she were patting Marinette’s shoulder. “He must think there’s another chance for you if he’s willing to go out with you again.”

Marinettte made a noise that was meant to be positive, but it came out more as a whimper. 

“Don’t quit before you try,” Eve said firmly. “That’s my motto. Or mantra. Something like that.” She grinned, a little sheepishly. “It’s how I give myself the courage to do things that scare me. Don’t assume failure before you take the chance.”

Marinette smiled. “That’s a good philosophy.” 

Eve smiled back, then tapped the table lightly again before standing up. “Good luck, Marinette.”

“Thanks, Eve,” Marinette waved, and sat back a little. She glanced down at the purse in her lap, and saw Nooroo’s wide eyes peeking up at her. “She seems really nice,” Marinette whispered. Nooroo fidgeted and then disappeared into her purse again. Tikki gave her a flipper-flick that was the kwami’s best imitation of a thumbs up, and then slid down into the purse as well.

“Sorry I kept you waiting.”

The familiarity of the voice nor the gentle touch on her shoulder didn’t stop Marinette from jumping, and a little scream escaped her mouth. 

Luka sighed, and then smiled. “Sorry. I always seem to do that to you.” 

“Stop sneaking up on me!” Marinette snapped, more harshly than she meant to. Luka only cocked an eyebrow at her. 

“You’re facing the door and I walked up in plain sight.” Teasingly, he added, “Stop thinking so hard.” He tapped her forehead gently, then pulled out the chair Eve had vacated and sat down. He lowered his voice. “Did you meet her?” 

Over his head, Marinette saw Eve mime a little cheer for her. “I did,” she admitted, and couldn’t help smiling at Eve. 

“I figured you would, if I left you here for a bit,” Luka chuckled. “She’s got good intuition, that one.”

Marinette frowned at him. “You let me sit here on purpose?” 

“Yeah,” he admitted, with a little shrug. “She’ll mostly leave us alone while we’re together, but I thought she’d probably come talk to you if I hung back for a bit. Sorry if I made you nervous.” He put his hand out across the table, and Marinette slowly put hers in his, since they were supposed to be on a date. 

“I guess I can’t blame you for a little payback.”

“It’s not like that,” Luka said immediately. “Not at all.” He leaned forward a little. 

“I understand a lot better than I did before,” he said softly. “The secrets, and the burden that comes with them. And you were so young, and going through so much…I’m so sorry.”

This time Marinette’s frown was more from confusion than displeasure. “Sorry for what?” she asked.

Luka laughed softly. “I don’t even know, really. I’m just sorry. For everything you went through. For any time I made your life harder. I tried not to push, but I’m sorry my feelings were a burden to you back then.”

“You didn’t make my life harder, Luka. You had every right to be upset that your girlfriend kept running off. I appreciated so much that you believed in me - you knew I had to have a reason, even if you were a little off about what it was.” She squeezed his hand. “I know how conflicted you felt. I saw you struggle with Hawkmoth. If I hadn’t hurt you, he never would have been able to get to you like that.” Luka said nothing, and Marinette leaned forward a bit, tugging on his hand to make him look at her. “You were just a kid, too, Luka, and you did so much for me.. I don’t blame you for anything that happened back then.”

Luka brought his other hand up to cradle hers between both of his. “I don’t blame you, either. You were doing the best you could. I’m happy you gave me a chance. I don’t regret any of the time we spent together. I didn’t, even before I really understood.”

“Really?” Marinette whispered, and Luka nodded, eyes holding hers. Marinette sighed. “I wish I could be as zen about this kind of thing as you are.”

Luka squeezed. “I’ve always loved your passion. Your big feelings are part of who you are. I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

“I would,” Marinette groaned immediately. She held up her thumb and forefinger together. “Maybe just a little. Just enough that I wouldn’t be so insensitive to other people when I get caught up in my big feelings.”

Luka laughed. “That’s just part of growing up. We’re all self-centered little shits as teenagers. You’re not unique in that.” He held a hand up before she could argue. “No, me too. It just looked a little bit different for me. We’re all searching so hard for identity at that age, and mine was being the chill guy who never got upset and everybody could count on. It took me a while to realize that selflessness could also be selfishness when it’s for the wrong reasons. I hope I’m a little more balanced these days.” Quickly, he added, “What’s Nooroo think?” and Marinette knew he didn’t want to talk about that anymore.

“He’s still being pretty shy,” she said, peeking into her purse. “Hey,” she said softly, trying to look like she was still holding a conversation with Luka instead of talking to her bag. “Do you want to come out for a bit? You can spend some time with her as long as you stay hidden. I’ve got your miraculous so you’re still safe.”

Nooroo hesitated, looking at Tikki, but then he peeked out of the purse and, when he was sure no one was looking, floated out and under the table. The next time Eve passed them, Marinette saw a little blue flash disappear into her apron pocket.

“Well,” Luka said, sitting back in his chair. “I guess we have some time to kill while he gets to know her. Can I order you something?” 

“When are you leaving?” Marinette blurted, and Luka blinked at her. “Not that I want you to leave,” she clarified quickly. “It’s just, I know you probably have to leave, eventually, and I’m really liking seeing you again and I just—I just want to know when it’s going to end, so you know, I don’t get too caught up and forget that that’s going to happen, because—”

“What if I didn’t leave?” Luka interrupted, folding his arms on the table and leaning on them to look at her. 

“W-what?” was all Marinette could manage. 

“What if I plan to stay in Paris for a long time?” The way he was looking at her was doing things to Marinette’s stomach, and she wasn’t sure whether she liked it or not. She tried to pull herself together, to focus.

“What, um, what would that look like?” she asked, unconsciously leaning back a little. He was just so intense, all of a sudden. Her heartbeat was suddenly throbbing as if she were sprinting up stairs instead of sitting in a peaceful cafe.

“Well, if that thing we’ve been discussing happens,” he glanced around, that quick, instinctive glance that Marinette had also acquired, the one that came with secrets you couldn’t share and had to protect. “I’d need to be around to help train the new—person. At least, that was what I was thinking. And I’ve honestly been getting a little tired of the globetrotting. I’d like to have some stability, for a while, and Paris is still home. You could help me out if I needed to get anywhere in a hurry.”

She could, that was true. If the Guardians objected to Luka holding a miraculous himself, she could always accompany him as Pegabug. 

“I might have to run off for a month or two here and there, that way,” Luka admitted, and he’d dropped his gaze now to where he was tracing the tile of the tabletop with a finger. Marinette had a sudden flash of memory where Luka had taught her box breathing, breathing in time with tracing a square like that. Was he nervous?

“I don’t have to, though,” he continued. “You could easily train a new person - you trained all of us, after all.” He grinned. “So if it makes you uncomfortable to know I’m in town, or to have a Guardian involved directly in training the new holder—” 

“No,” Marinette gasped, and then put a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I mean, of course I wouldn’t be upset about having you around. You’d be an amazing teacher for a new—person. You’re…really thinking about staying?” For me? She clamped her lips on the words. That was ridiculous. Why was she even thinking that? How much teenage ego she must still have, to think he would still be mooning after her when they hadn’t talked in years…shit he was talking.

“--or maybe working some place like this,” he was saying as he glanced around the cafe. 

Eve caught his look and came over, clearly thinking he wanted to order. She chatted easily to Luka while beaming at Marinette, clearly cheering her on. Marinette was glad for the break to process, although she did manage to order something, asking weakly for whatever Eve recommended. Eve’s smile dimmed a little bit as she caught on to Marinette’s unease. 

“Let me know if you need anything else,” Eve said, a little too earnestly, and Marinette understood Eve was offering her an out if she needed it.

“You’re freaking out,” Luka said, leaning back in his chair as Eve walked away. She both hated the distance and was grateful for space to breathe.

“I’m—no, I just—uh—” Marinette bit her lip, twisting her purse strap in her fingers. “I don’t know.”

Luka nodded. “Paris is a big city. You don’t have to see me any more than you want to. Or at all, if you want. I’m not here to push into your life.” 

“Pff, of course not,” Marinette laughed, hoping it didn’t come off as hysterical as she felt. “Why should it be all about me?”

Luka hesitated, and pressed his lips together for a moment before answering. “It’s at least partly about you,” he said quietly. “I miss you. I meant it when I said I don’t regret any of our time together, but I do have some regrets about how things went down, and the way I let us drift apart afterwards.”

“That wasn’t all you,” Marinette protested weakly, and he waved it away. 

“It really doesn’t matter now. I just want to try again. See what our friendship is like now that we don’t have to hide so much from each other.”

“You make it sound so mutual,” Marinette muttered, twisting her fingers together. “It was all me and you know it.”

“Back then,” he agreed. “I have secrets of my own now, though. Like I said, I understand better now. I know how valuable it is to have someone you can be real with.” 

Marinette peeked up from under her lashes. Her stomach felt all weird and squirmy. She wasn’t sure if she could be friends with Luka again. Not…not just friends. Even best friends. She was already so drawn to him after only a few days. 

She wondered what he would say if she told him. Was he really just wanting a friend to confide in and share secrets with? Or could he want something more? She felt that he did, but she didn’t know if the past was coloring her perception. 

Color. Her mind flicked back to the night in her apartment, when she had seen his heart in a swell of colored light. He loved her, didn’t he? But was that enough, after everything? 

He was looking at her so earnestly, a slight crease between his brows, and she felt suddenly self-conscious. She’d always been an open book to him…and he’d always treated what he read there so delicately. 

She licked her lips unconsciously as she considered just…telling him how she felt. How bad would it be if he said no—or not yet? 

A light touch on her knee made her look down, and Nooroo was perched there, looking up at her with such a conflicted expression that she immediately moved to curl a hand around him protectively. 

“He wants to go,” she whispered to Luka, shepherding the little kwami into her purse gently. Nooroo dove deep, and Marinette thought she heard Tikki’s soft reassurance. She sighed, heart aching. 

“Then let’s go,” Luka said immediately, flagging Eve down. Marinette had to work to smile at her as Luka handed her a credit card, and didn’t even have the presence of mind to protest Luka paying for everything. 

Eve brought his card back and handed Marinette a box with a wink, nodding at the piece of cake on her plate that she’d barely touched. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered, setting a hand on Marinette’s shoulder as she walked by. 

Luka raised his eyebrows at Marinette, and she hurriedly focused on scraping her cake into the box, trying not to knock anything over in the process. 

Luka put his hand on the small of her back as they hustled out of the cafe, trying not to look like they were hustling. Once outside, they nipped into an alley, and Marinette peered into her purse.

“Nooroo?” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” came the reply, but faintly, and he didn’t peep out at her. “I just…I need to think.”

“Of course,” Luka said softly. “Take your time. Let’s get you home.” He looked at Marinette, and she nodded.

It was too crowded to talk much on the subway. Luka stood close to her, not touching, but hovering as if he wanted to. “Are you okay?” he asked, as they both shifted for passengers to disembark, and she nodded. 

“Just worried about him,” she confessed, and then hesitated. Luka touched her hand, and she grabbed onto his fingers, squeezing tightly. Luka wiggled his fingers until he could wrap them around hers, and she took a deep breath. Not a good time. 

When they finally emerged from the metro in Marinette’s neighborhood, she was practically vibrating with anxiety, and Luka clearly sensed it, as he tugged her gently over into a small strip of grass and trees between the buildings. The trees were small and meticulously pruned, but Marinette felt better as she put her hand against the trunk of one, and breathed, her other hand still clinging tightly to Luka.

“You look a little overwhelmed,” he said, shifting to cradle her hand in both of his. 

Marinette laughed shakily. “Story of my life, right? When have I not been overwhelmed?”

Luka nodded, looking at the ground before meeting her eyes again. “What can I do?”

“I don’t know,” Marinette sighed, turning to put her back against the tree trunk. “Tell me I’m not an irredeemable screwup?” 

An incredulous laugh burst out of Luka for a moment, but he choked it back, though the effort twisted his smile. “You are absolutely not an irredeemable screw up,” he said, not quite as earnest as he wanted to be because he was still trying not to laugh.

Marinette rolled her eyes, and Luka dropped her hand, turning away from her to smother his laughter.

“Sorry,” he said finally, still smiling as he turned back to her. “Let me try again.” 

He took both her hands in his, and leaned his head down a little to look at her. He opened his mouth, and then closed it and swallowed, any remaining humor fading abruptly away. Marinette’s own smile wavered as he focused on her again.

“Marinette, I’ve seen a lot of places, and I’ve met a lot of incredible people. Good people, with good hearts and incredible spiritual strength.” He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “None of them compared to you,” he said finally. “You’re still the most extraordinary girl I ever met. You were on my mind with every potential holder I ever met or trained. You are not a screw up, no matter how inadequate you feel.”

Marinette smiled up at him. “They were so lucky to have you to teach them. I wish I could—” she paused, and bit her lip, feeling a stab of guilt for the disloyalty to Master Fu. He had done his best, she supposed, but… “I wish I could have had someone like you to teach me.”

Luka nodded, tugging her hands lightly, and she let him pull her into an embrace. She sighed, settling against him, enjoying the way he engulfed her. It made her feel warm and safe. She really did envy those holders that had had Luka’s patience and gentle nature to guide them through their first mistakes as holders. She supposed she was lucky he had been there to help her through her first mistakes in love.

They definitely weren’t her last. 

Was it too late?

What if it wasn’t?

Luka’s hand smoothed down her back, and she leaned into him a little more. He smelled nice, and she realized he wore cologne.. She half-remembered him smelling of sunscreen and cheap detergent once upon a time, but now he smelled like green tea and spice. She wondered if it was something he found traveling. 

Abruptly she realized she’d been clinging to him for an awkwardly long time for a friendly hug, and she nearly jerked back. Luka didn’t try to stop her, but caught her hands again to steady her when the momentum threw her off balance. 

“Sorry,” she said quickly, flustered. “You’re all grown up and I’m still just as clumsy and ridiculous and—insecure as ever. Sorry.” 

Luka shook his head. “You’re perfect just the way you are, Marinette.” His thumbs slid over the backs of her hands, and her insides suddenly felt like jelly. “I—” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 

Marinette tilted her head, watching him. She wasn’t sure what that expression meant. “What?” she asked softly.

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to make it complicated for us to work together. It’s just…I’ve never minded your clumsiness, and I love the way you burst out with the way you feel. Too many people stuff their feelings down because they feel too vulnerable to let them out, but yours are always brave and bold.” He smiled. “Even when you make a mistake and hurt someone, you always do whatever you have to do to make it right.  So don’t ever feel like you have to apologize for being yourself.”

You can be yourself with me. Just yourself.

 “After all these years, you don’t even know me anymore,” she teased, trying to lighten a mood that suddenly felt too intense, but Luka’s eyes stayed focused on her, and her heart was beating so hard she felt like she could barely breathe.

“I think there’s a lot I don’t know about you,” he corrected with a chuckle. “But I’m pretty sure I still know you. I don’t think you can change that much.”

“You think I haven’t changed,” Marinette pouted, and something crossed his face that made her blush. 

“I definitely didn’t say that,” he told her, tugging her hands down lightly so she took a step towards him. For a wild moment she thought he was going to kiss her, and she had just enough time to wish he would before he dropped her hands and took a step around her. “Can I walk you home?”

“Uh, sure,” Marinette said, taking a quick step to catch up with him. “Where are you staying, anyway?” 

Luka grinned. “The Grand Palais.” 

Marinette gave him a look. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. I have Jagged’s credit card. I usually try not to use it, but…” he shrugged. “I figure Jagged doesn’t mind me using it to wine and dine his favorite designer. Probably would be offended if I didn’t.” He offered Marinette his arm, and she laughed as she slid her hand through his elbow.

“I saw his comeback tour,” she admitted.  

“He can only stay out of the spotlight for so long,” Luka sighed, rolling his eyes. “It’s his way of helping, though. He’s not really cut out for the Guardian life, but his money has helped us out of some really tight places, and he has a lot of connections. Plus people are used to him asking for weird shit, so that’s a useful cover.” 

“You took it really well, when you found out about him.” 

Luka winced and put a hand over his face for a moment, before letting it slide down and wipe away whatever he was thinking. 

“I don’t like thinking about how I found out,” he admitted. “That whole…mess. Don’t apologize,” he warned, lifting a finger. “I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about me.” He sighed. “I thought I was past all of that. It wasn’t pleasant to find out how wrong I was. It was…humbling.” Luka shook his head. “It was hard to be mad at him, after that. I felt like I didn’t have any right to criticize after, y’know, tossing him halfway across Paris.” He groaned, putting his face in his hand again. “I can’t stand thinking about all that teenage angst.”

Marinette giggled. “I so know what you mean.”

Luka grinned. “I know you do. Marino.”

“Aaarrrgggghhh you jerk I can’t believe you brought that up,” Marinette moaned, trying to pull away, but Luka held onto her and she had to smile when he laughed so whole-heartedly. 

I want him to stay, she thought suddenly. I really, really want him to stay. 

Her hand fluttered to her chest, fingertips brushing her pounding heart, before she forced herself to put her hand back down again at her side. She couldn’t quite make it relax and her fingers curled together. 

He was waiting for her, like he always did. She knew it now with miraculous clarity. He wanted to stay, and he wanted her to want him to stay, and he was waiting for her to say he could. 

It didn’t have to be a big thing, right? She could say it, somehow, and he would know what she meant even if she didn’t say it say it, and then they would have time, and they could figure out things as they went. 

She felt a light touch on her hip, and looked down to see Nooroo peeping up out of her bag, his little flipper nudging her. She stroked his forehead with one finger, a gesture he seemed to like. He gave her a tiny little nod, and slipped back into her purse.

What was that, she wondered. Was he saying—-was he okay with this arrangement? He wanted to try the new holder? Or…was he sensing her hesitation, and encouraging her. 

Freaking empaths, they were so confusing. Just because they could practically read minds—

“I think it went well,” Luka murmured, and Marinette jumped slightly. “He didn’t reject the whole idea.” 

“Mm,” Marinette agreed, not knowing what to say. 

“He can take his time,” Luka went on. “There’s a vintage record shop I’ve been looking at. The owner’s looking to sell, and it would make a pretty good cover while I’m here.” 

Here was her opening, and Marinette couldn’t make a sound. She didn’t say anything, and she felt Luka’s silent sigh, and wanted to bang her head against a wall.

Suddenly they were standing in front of Marinette’s apartment building, and Luka began to pull away.

Say something. DO something.

She tightened her hand on his arm and tugged a little, and Luka reversed his momentum, walking through the door with her. She still clung to him in the elevator, still trying to make her brain or her voice or something work, before he decided she didn’t want him. 

She did want him. She did . Why couldn’t she just say it.

Luka stopped them in front of her apartment door, and his arm slid out of her grasp as he faced her.

He was going to say goodbye, and he was going to leave , and—

Say something say something DO SOMETHING

Marinette hardly knew what she was doing as she stepped forward and took his face in her hands, raising up on her toes as high as she could, and kissed him—or tried to. She still wasn’t quite tall enough, so her kiss hit his chin more than his lips, but only for a moment, as he eagerly bent down to meet her, a desperate little noise coming from his throat as he wrapped his arms around her and their lips met more fully. 

It was everything she had ever imagined, soft and intense and electric all at once. Luka’s hands splayed on her back, pulling her closer, and she gasped a little. She felt him freeze and slid her hands behind his neck to pull him back in. 

When her eyes opened again she felt rather proud of the dazed way he looked at her, the glow in his tanned cheeks, and the slightly slack-jawed expression. She couldn’t help a giggle. His eyes focused back on her, and she shivered. She thought he was going to say something, but he leaned in and kissed her again. Marinette freed one hand, flailing for the handle of her door. He followed her willingly, mouth still hot on hers, as she got it open and pulled him inside. Luka kicked the door shut behind them and leaned back against it, pulling Marinette into him. She pressed against him shamelessly, letting her purse slide to the floor. If there was a little squeak as it hit the floor and faint giggles around the apartment, Luka and Marinette were far too busy to notice. 

“Wow,” he murmured, and cleared his throat, letting his head tip back as Marinette felt his chest up shamelessly. “I admit I was maybe hoping for that to happen, but I thought it would take a lot longer.” 

Marinette giggled. “We’re not kids anymore,” she reminded him.

“Oh I know.” Luka’s hands drifted a little lower on her back. “I’m definitely not complaining.”

“You don’t think it’s maybe a little fast?” she asked, mostly teasing but genuinely curious. The doubt she had stomped on wanted to creep up again, but Luka’s words crushed it to dust. 

“Not with you,” he said, so earnestly that her breath caught and her eyes stung. “I’m all in for wherever you want to go from here. If we end up having a passionate affair for a few months before we decide we’re better as friends—” Marinette felt a rush of heat all down her body at the words. “—I’m going to enjoy every second of it. If it goes the way I’d like it to and we end up with something longer term, something…permanent, then I don’t want to miss a second when I could have been with you.” He leaned down and kissed her again, soft and slow. 

It took her a moment to open her eyes when he pulled away. “Don’t the Guardians have rules about this kind of thing?” Marinette asked, already half-knowing the answer.

Luka didn’t disappoint her. He rolled his eyes. “Fuck the Guardians.”

Marinette laughed. “Maybe just the one,” she purred, tapping Luka on the nose, and taking great pleasure in watching him flush. The deep rose tint to his tan was very attractive, she decided, and rose up on her toes to kiss him again.

Tonight, though, Jagged was sprawled with his long legs hanging over the overstuffed armchair that they normally only used for photo ops, wearing his favorite purple striped pajamas instead of The Suit.

Luka turned and almost walked right back out again, but Penny and her clipboard had somehow appeared behind him, blocking the exit. 

“No,” Luka said to her, but to his annoyance, it was pleading rather than firm. 

Jagged let out a concussive sneeze that shook all the knicknacks in the room, and blew his nose like a trumpet before pointing a woeful glance at his son.Luka knew exactly what it would look like, though he refused to turn around to confirm.

“No,” Luka—whined. He was whining. He was man enough to admit it. “No way.” He pointed an accusing finger at his father. “Santa Claus does not get sick on Christmas. There’s gotta be magic or a—a rule or something.”

“There is a rule,” Penny said stiffly behind him, and Luka jumped a little, moving inadvertently further into the room. Penny stepped after him, shutting the door behind her. “The rule is you , Santa Junior.” 

Luka rolled his eyes. “Penny…” he whined again, and Penny rolled her eyes. Jagged sneezed again and moaned pathetically. 

“Oh, grow up,” Penny snapped irritably, and Luka actually wasn’t sure which one of them she was talking to. She stalked over to the wardrobe and yanked it open. “I don’t have time for your bullshit today.” She pulled the red coat out and turned towards Luka, holding it out.

“Now?” Luka switched tactics. “I haven’t even had dinner yet?” 

“Then you should have plenty of room for cookies,” Penny replied, unsympathetic. “Now shut up and get dressed. I’ve assigned you an assistant and she’ll be here any minute.”

Worse and worse. “You’re not coming with me?” Luka asked, accepting the inevitable with the coat.

“I’ve been exposed,” she replied, throwing a dark look at Jagged. “Some of us can handle illness without being reduced to invalids.” She looked back at Luka, and suddenly he could see the tiredness in her expression and the tightness around her slightly watery eyes. “Still, I have a monster headache and I’m going straight to bed once your butt is in the sleigh.” 

“Right,” Luka sighed, slipping on the coat. “Sorry, Penny. I know this sucks.” 

She acknowledged it with a nod. “I know you don’t want to do this, but it’s got to get done.”

Luka nodded morosely. It was a responsibility he accepted when he came to live with his dad, although he’d been more interested in the workshop than the top job. He’d spent the whole year building instruments for tonight (and being teased about his slow, methodical way of working), and he wasn’t about to let all that work go to waste just because his dad was a dramatic whiny baby. 

Not to mention an entire world full of kids who would wake up disappointed on Christmas morning if he didn’t step up. 

He swallowed any further whining objections and pulled on the stupid fluffy red pants with nothing more than a long-suffering sigh. 

“You’re so his son,” Penny muttered, and Luka gave her a pouty look that did nothing to disprove her statement. It turned even more mulish as she held out the boots.

“Do I have to?” 

“You know you do. You’ll trip in those things anyway. They don’t have enough heel to keep the pants off the ground.”

Luka kicked off his shoes without further complaint and put on the stupid boring black boots. He even tied the laces when Penny continued to glare at him. The boots adjusted to fit his feet. At least the vaunted North Pole magic was good for something. The suit shrank a little as well to fit him. Luka took the hat from Penny and stuffed it in his pocket. He’d have to wear it, or the glamor wouldn’t kick on, the one that made him look like viewer expected - chubby and white-bearded, the usual thing. 

“I really don’t know what I’m doing,” he warned Penny. “I mean, I can drive the sleigh and stuff but—” She was already waving him off.

“All you have to do is drive and drop the presents. I went over the route and double-checked the lists with Marinette this morning; she’s very organized. Although,” she added, looking up at the clock above the ostentatious mantlepiece, “punctuality has never been her strong point. Make sure you stay on schedule.” 

“Yeah, okay—wait, Marinette?” Luka looked up sharply, fixing his eyes on Penny and feeling his stomach flip. “The one that works in the fashion design department?” The one that he seemed to bump into far too often coming into and out of this office, often literally. Jagged gushed about her every time, delighted to have secured such a talented and creative person for his workshop. If there was one thing you could say about Jagged—well, it was that he really enjoyed being revered and loved by all the children of the world, which translated to wanting the best to come out of his workshop so that those children kept adoring him. 

He sighed to himself. Even a substitute Santa probably shouldn’t be such a cynic. And Marinette—

If there was another thing you could say about Jagged, it was that he was not at all subtle, and Luka was mortally convinced that his frequent brushes with Marinette in this office were intentional. He should have been doing everything in his power to dodge her, but…

Just then, she barreled in through the door, and his mouth went dry and his breathing quickened. She was flushed from the run up the stairs, eyes bright and eager, and she tripped over her words as she apologized profusely to Penny. She had a tablet tucked under her arm and she was wearing the traditional elf uniform, green with striped stockings and a silly belled hat perched between her pigtails. 

She was stupid cute and he felt like his brain was leaking out of his ears even before she turned to smile at him, clearly nervous but also excited. He couldn’t help but smile back.

Before they could say anything, though, Jagged groaned loudly, and Luka just caught Marinette’s arm before she rushed to the poor invalid’s side. “Don’t get too close,” he warned darkly, and winced when she turned wide eyes on him. “I don’t want you getting sick too,” he added quickly, dropping her arm. He felt like an idiot but the look she turned on him was grateful.

“You’re so right, I wouldn’t want to spread anything to the children.” She returned a sympathetic smile to the pitiful look Jagged gave her. “You stay home and rest. Don’t worry about a thing. Luka and I have got this!” She pumped a fist in the air, and Jagged threw her a goat and a grin that actually seemed genuine, and genuinely tired. Luka felt a tiny stab of sympathy, but it disappeared when Jagged blew Marinette a kiss and hoarsely told her she was the best, adding, “Keep the kid out of trouble!”

“Right!” Marinette grinned. Then she turned to Luka and his stomach did that weird flip thing again as her eyes darted over him. “Shall we go?” she said, checking her tablet. “I’ve got our schedule and route all worked out and when I stopped by the stable, they were just finishing up loading. Do you have your hat?” 

Luka pulled it from his pocket and waved it, and her smile brightened, making his knees weak. “Lead the way,” he managed to get out, and when she turned he followed right behind her. 

Penny whispered, “You can thank me later,” while he passed, and he nearly tripped on his own feet. 

Fortunately, his face cooled by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, so he hopefully didn’t look any more like a tomato than the suit already suggested when Marinette turned to him. 

“All right,” she grinned at him, linking her arm through his. “Let’s go save Christmas!”

He let her tug him towards the stable, chuckling a little at her enthusiasm. Well, if he had to do this, there was no point in sulking the whole time, right? It was just one night.

Marinette was a whirlwind, checking the packing, checking the harnessing, giving firm but polite directions when she found anything amiss. Luka wasn’t really sure what to do with himself, so he climbed into the sleigh and waited, until Marinette bounced up into the seat beside him.

“I’ve always wanted to ride this,” she confessed, flashing a grin at him. “This is so amazing. Ready when you are, Santa.”

“Luka,” he corrected automatically, but he was smiling as he picked up the reins. He couldn’t help it. “Hold on,” he said without thinking, and suddenly Marinette was pressed tight against his side, both her arms wound around his right arm. 

“Can you move okay?” she asked, looking up at him. “There’s not much else to hold on to,” she added, blushing, and he realized he was staring at her.

“Oh—yeah, sure, you’re fine,” he said, and flapped the reins with a little more force than was wise.

He had to admit, as the reindeer started off, gliding across the snow faster and faster before lifting sharply into the air—the sleigh was a rush. He couldn’t help laughing for pure joy at the swooping feeling in his stomach and the sudden surge of adrenaline. Marinette squealed a bit as they came off the ground. She sounded more excited than terrified but he risked a glance at her to make sure she was okay, and saw her grin in a flash of the bouncing lamplight.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she said again, letting go of his arm and sliding over a little bit as they leveled out. 

Luka grinned. “Well, we’ll get to do it a few thousand more times.” 

“Right,” Marinette said, pulling up her tablet, suddenly all business. Well, that was understandable, but it did kill Luka’s good mood a little. Right. It’s not like he was taking her out for a joyride—or a date.

He really wished he could, though. He’d run into Marinette half a dozen times, but always with Jagged in near proximity, which didn’t exactly bring out the best in Luka. She’d caught his eye every time, but he’d never managed to be walking out of Jagged’s office at the same time, and once he was back in the workshop with his tools in his hands, he tended to forget anything except the vision he had in mind. Luka wished now he’d been a bit more proactive. He could have come up with some excuse to visit her department if he’d thought about it. If only Jagged weren’t so damn pushy, then maybe…

Before he could get too far down that train of thought, it was time for the work to begin, and Luka didn’t have much time to think of anything except getting in, leaving presents, and getting out. Marinette was a good assistant, and everything he needed was right to hand when he needed it. They made a good team. Luka made sure to bring some of the best cookies back to the sleigh for her, to show his appreciation. He loved Penny but Marinette was a lot more fun—especially since Penny got horribly motion sick in the sleigh. He didn’t know how she managed the trip every year, but he supposed someone had to keep Jagged in line.

“Oh, these are good,” Marinette said, as they sailed between towns. Luka glanced at her and saw that she had a molasses cookie in her hand. 

“They were,” he agreed. 

“My parents own a bakery,” she said, taking another bite. “These remind me of home.” She giggled. “Who would have thought when I was putting out cookies as a little girl that I’d end up actually working in Santa’s workshop?” 

Luka chuckled. “I bet you were adorable. I can just see you in fuzzy pajamas, arranging the cookies and worrying about whether Santa has food allergies.” 

Marinette barked a surprised laugh. “It’s like you know me,” she said, putting a hand over her mouth as she tried not to choke on her cookie.

Luka grinned. “Maybe not yet, but I feel like I’m getting there.” He winked at her, and she blushed, and he grinned all the way to Budapest. 

Luka had no idea how the Christmas magic worked, only that it messed with time, so that Santa could make it everywhere that welcomed him before daylight. When Marinette announced happily that they were running ahead of schedule, though, he had an idea. 

“Do you think we can squeeze out fifteen minutes or so before we get to Paris?” he asked. “There’s someone I’d like to stop and see.” 

Marinette frowned. “Isn’t that against the rules?”

“Nah,” Luka chuckled. “She already knows all the secrets. I just want to stop and say hello.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, her tone a little strained. “Well, okay…I think we can probably make that happen, if you don’t mind eating your cookies on the go.” 

“I think I can manage.”

Landing reindeer on a boat was a no-go, so Luka left the sleigh nearby, hopefully out of sight. He turned and offered Marinette his hand to help her down.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude—” she began, but Luka snorted. 

“You won’t be, trust me. You ought to get out and stretch your legs, anyway.” 

She let him take her hand and pull her down from the sleigh, though she still looked a little unsure. He kept her hand as he pulled her gently along behind him towards the boat at the dock. The garish paint job was masked by thick swags of twinkling multicolored lights that seemed to dance when they reflected on the water. 

When they were standing on the deck, Luka let out a loud “HO HO HO,” in a credible imitation of Jagged’s voice.

There was a thundering sound from inside the boat, and an older woman popped out of the door, scowling. 

“What did I tell ya about showin’ up on my boat you old—” Luka pulled off his hat, and she stopped her tirade, blinking, as Luka grinned. “Luka, m’boy!” She laughed, and threw herself forward. Luka dropped Marinette’s hand to catch and hug her, enjoying his mother’s bone-crushing embrace. “What are ye doing wearing the suit, lad?” 

Anarka stepped back, looking at him, and Luka shrugged. “Old man’s sick tonight, so I got stuck with the job. It’s good to see you, Ma.”

Her face softened, and she smiled. “Aye, it is that. I know ye probably cannae stay long, but come downstairs for a moment and have something hot to drink. And you too, lass,” she added, leaning a little to look around Luka at Marinette. “Got stuck with babysitting duty, did ye?” 

Marinette giggled, and nodded, while Luka pretended to look wounded. “Ma, this is Marinette,” he said as they followed Anarka down the stairs into the ship’s galley. “Marinette, this is Anarka Couffaine, my mom. Where’s Juleka, Ma?” he added, glancing around. 

“Passed out on the couch about an hour ago,” Anarka told him, jerking a thumb towards a lump topped with long black hair curled up at one end of the couch. “Never manages to stay up on Christmas. Pretty sure it’s that magic shit. Kids who try to stay up and see Santa never manage it.”

“There should be a loophole when you’re related to him,” Luka muttered. “And she’s hardly a kid.” 

Anarka shrugged. “Don’t ask me, I don’t truck with that Christmas magic bullshit.” 

“Maybe because she still believes,” Marinette suggested, and she blushed when Luka turned to look at her. “I mean, she knows Santa exists, so she still believes in him, so the magic still works on her.” She spread her hands, looking a little sheepish. “It’s just a thought.”

“Well, maybe.” Luka went over and kissed his sister’s forehead, tucking a creepy-ass doll he had picked out just for her under her arm. “Tell her I love her, okay?”

“O’course,” Anarka brought him a cup of—

“Coffee!” Marinette squealed, and then immediately put her hand over her mouth, eyes round.

“Aye,” Anarka laughed. “I know ya don’t have it ‘up north.’ Cocoa’s fine but,” she grinned at the blissful look on Marinette’s face at the first sip, “sometimes ye just want a good ol’ cup o’ joe. That much sweet all the time, sometimes ye need a touch o’ bitter.” Anarka winked at Luka, who realized he was staring at Marinette with what was probably a very stupid expression on his face. “Or spicy, eh?”

“It’s lovely,” Marinette sighed, fortunately not noticing the way Luka flushed red.

“Ye have to go, I expect,” Anarka sighed, when they handed the empty cups back. 

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said, glancing worriedly at her tablet. 

“Don’t apologize,” Luka told her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s the job. Ma understands.”

“Aye, that I do,” Anarka said, rolling her eyes. “Get on wi’ ye then. Thanks for stopping to see yer ol’ Ma.”

Luka kissed her cheek, and hugged her. “Bye, Ma. I’ll come by again when I can.”

As they loaded themselves back in the sleigh, Luka said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to ask if you wanted to stop and see your own family.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, waving a hand. “They’re surely asleep by now. Bakery hours, you know. And if they weren’t, we’d never get out before dawn. You don’t know my dad.” 

Luka grinned and clucked to the reindeer. “Tell me about him.”

The night seemed to pass like lightning after that, conversations pausing and picking up between deliveries as if they’d never been interrupted. Marinette told him about her parents and her life before the North Pole. Luka told her about growing up on a houseboat with Anarka and his sister, and then finding out as a teen that his father was THE Fucking Santa Claus. For the first time Luka thought he could actually feel the magic working, and they left their last delivery and turned back north just as the sun was lightening their section of sky. 

“So that’s that,” Luka sighed. 

“Yes,” Marinette agreed, and leaned back with a sigh. “I won’t say I had no idea how much work it would be, because obviously it’s hard, but it’s different to actually experience it.” 

“Would you do it again?” Luka wanted to know, and Marinette laughed.

“In a heartbeat,” she giggled, and then sobered slightly. “Would you?”

It was a bit of a loaded question. Somewhere in the dark of the night he had confessed to her his misgivings about taking on the mantle one day. 

“I think I might,” he said slowly. “The right company makes a big difference.” He smiled at Marinette, and to his delight, she smiled back, in a shy way he hadn’t seen from her before. “We make a pretty good team,” he dared to add, and Marinette nodded.

“And we made so many people happy,” she pointed out, looking back towards the horizon where the sun was rising. “It feels good.”

Luka nodded thoughtfully. “So yeah, maybe I’d do it again.” He shrugged. “I don’t think the old man’s gonna retire anytime soon, so. I’ve got time to think about it.” He grinned. “After I’ve slept for like three days.”

“Agreed.” Marinette covered a yawn. “And I never thought I’d say this, but I don’t think I’m going to want to look at another cookie for at least a month.” 

“I’m with you,” Luka laughed, and then licked his lips a little nervously. “So, after we’ve slept for three days…do you have plans for the New Year?” 

“N-no, not really,” she stammered, reaching up to check her belled hat, which was slightly askew after all this time, but still there. Luka’s heartbeat sped up at her nervousness, which he thought was both adorable and a good sign. 

“Maybe we could go somewhere?” Luka suggested. “Find a good cup of coffee and ring in the new year together?” 

Marinette visibly swallowed, blushing before she met his eyes. “Maybe kiss at midnight?” she suggested, quietly but boldly.

“I’d like that,” Luka managed to get out, just barely. 

“Hmm. That sounds nice. But…I’m not sure I can wait that long.”

Luka’s hands were on her face and his lips on hers in a heartbeat. The reindeer knew the way home, after all—but at the moment, he honestly didn’t care whether they made it or not. Another few laps around the world was sounding pretty good as Marinette’s arms wound around his neck. 

“Oh, how cute!” Lila crooned, and Marinette’s heart went from her throat to her stomach. “Marinette, you have a crush on Luka? That’s so sweet! Don’t you think so, Adrien?” She waved the open notebook in Adrien’s direction. He stared back blankly for a moment and then smiled. 

“I think it’s great. Luka’s a great guy.” 

“Oh, how sweet,” Mylene said, clasping her hands before turning to grab Ivan’s hand. “Don’t you think so? They’d make such a cute couple!”

“But I thought Marinette liked—” Kim began, before Alya shoved an elbow in his gut. “Ow!”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Ivan agreed cheerfully, oblivious. 

Alix took the notebook from Lila and looked at it, then groaned. “Come on, Marinette, you couldn’t go five minutes without a new crush? Can you please just confess this time and save us all a lot of suffering?”

Marinette’s face burned, and she leapt up the steps to snatch the notebook back from Alix. She darted a glance at Juleka, who was staring silently, her visible eye round and her hand hovering in front of her mouth. Rose had her hands clasped by her cheek, obviously lost in romantic daydreams. 

“Who’s Luka?” Kim asked, scratching his head. “Do we know him?” 

“That’s your brother, right Juleka?” Lila drawled, turning innocent eyes to look at Juleka before she laid a thoughtful finger to her lips. “I hope that doesn’t bother you. I’m sure Marinette wouldn’t make friends with you just to cozy up to your brother.” 

Juleka looked paler than usual and mumbled something incoherent.

“Well, it’s time for me to head home,” Marinette declared, her voice higher pitched than usual as she grabbed her bag and shoved the notebook inside, along with the other belongings Adrien and Alya had gathered up for her. “I’ll see you all tomorrow, hahaha! Bye!” 

She fled the classroom, ignoring Alya’s calls for her to wait. She didn’t want to talk about this with anyone right now, not even Alya. Not until she’d had a moment to herself to think.

She ran all the way to the bakery and straight up to her room. She closed the trap door and sat on it, burying her hands in her hair as she muffled a scream into her knees. 

Tikki popped out of her purse and came to pat her arm. “I’m sure it’ll be okay, Marinette. Nobody told Adrien about your crush for the longest time! I know you’re embarrassed but—”

“No, no, Tikki, you don’t understand,” Marinette moaned. She moved into a cross-legged pose and grabbed her bag, digging through it until she pulled out the dark blue notebook that had caused all the trouble. “This isn’t mine,” she said, flipping open the cover to show the name there to Tikki. “It’s Luka’s .” 

Tikki just floated there, seemingly speechless. Marinette opened the notebook. It fell to the same page in her hands as it had in the classroom.

Artwork by @rierse

Despite her distress, Marinette couldn’t help but smile. She never would have guessed Luka was a doodler. It made sense, though, he was so used to his guitar that she could imagine he needed something to do with his hands when he couldn’t play. 

He’d clearly been working on something at first; the carefully drawn staffs on the page had music notes and various notations, but he must have gotten bored because halfway down the page his music notes turned into little hearts. Then below that was…her name. Marinette blushed, tilting the cover of the book up just a little so that nobody could see over the top of it. She was alone, of course, nobody was there to look but Tikki, who already knew, but—she felt suddenly self-conscious, looking at her name surrounded by hearts and music in Luka’s notebook. She couldn’t even attempt to convince herself that he might mean some other Marinette, since a passable imitation of her signature flowers were doodled next to the name, the centers accented in pink glitter pen. That made her giggle a little bit. 

“You know he likes you, Marinette,” Tikki reminded her, pointing to some familiar words at the bottom of the page. Clear as a music note, sincere as a melody… Tikki sighed at the memory, and Marinette smiled self-consciously. 

There were other little doodles, too. There was a picture of Sass, his Kitty Section mask (the lightning bolt done in that same pink glitter pen), and…a little face with pigtails. More flowers. The ladybug doodle made her pulse jump, but she reasoned he had been thinking about heroes, since Sass was there too. It didn’t mean anything. 

And there in the middle of the page, Marinette Couffaine , written with little hearts around it.

Marinette hid her face in the book and groaned. “What am I going to do?” she whispered. She had found the notebook under her chaise, and had meant to give it to Juleka at school to return to Luka, but of course she couldn’t manage even something that simple without the universe deciding to screw with her. 

Her phone pinged, and Marinette set the notebook aside to pull it out and tell Alya to leave her alone.

The message wasn’t from Alya, though. It was from Luka. 

Hi Marinette. Juleka told me what happened. I’m so sorry. Can we talk? 

Marinette bit her lip, and fidgeted as she thought it over. Finally, she texted back, I think that would be a good idea. Can I come over in a bit?  

***

Luka was pacing the living room, chewing on a thumbnail, when Marinette came down the Liberty’s stairs. Marinette thought she had never seen him so nervous. Juleka was nowhere to be seen, but the door to their cabin was closed. 

“Marinette, I’m so sorry,” he began as soon as he saw her, and whatever embarrassment she still felt over the whole thing was instantly buried under concern for him. He was pale and his hair was mussed. “I never meant—” 

“Luka, it wasn’t your fault,” Marinette interrupted. “You left it in my room and I put it in my bag so Juleka could bring it back to you. It’s not your fault I’m clumsy. It was just bad luck. And then Lila had to go and grab it and wave it around in front of everybody. I’m really sorry.” 

“It is my fault,” Luka insisted. “I shouldn’t have been so careless with it. And I shouldn’t—” He stopped, putting a hand over his face. 

“Shouldn’t be a normal teenager?” Marinette asked teasingly, slipping her arm through his and tugging him over to the couch. “Luka, after all the embarrassing things I’ve done in the name of a crush, I’m the last person to judge you.” 

Luka sighed as he let her coax him to sit with her. “Still, it’s different when it’s about you . I mean, when you see someone writing those things about you. Especially when everybody sees.” He bit his thumbnail again and grimaced. “I started painting my nails so I would quit doing that,” he muttered, rubbing his finger over the chipped polish on the abused thumbnail. 

Marinette took his hand and tried to think of some way to make him feel better. She pulled the notebook out of her bag and set it on the couch between them. “Really, I’m not mad. Except that you never told me you could draw,” she teased. “You did a pretty good job on the flowers.”

She was delighted to see his cheeks tint pink and his eyes come up to meet hers at last. “I’ve had a bit of practice,” he admitted with a shamefaced grin. “And you wear them on practically everything, so…” Luka shrugged, ducking his head a little further. “I’ve seen them a lot,” he finished lamely, and then groaned and buried his face in his hands. Now that he was reassured that she wasn’t angry at him, embarrassment seemed to be taking over. 

“Just kill me,” he muttered, with something so like a whine that Marinette had to giggle. 

“How many times have I said that to you,” she teased, bumping his shoulder with hers. “And you never did. Now you can suffer.” 

Luka laughed and dropped his hands from his face, only to put them both in his hair and ruffle it vigorously, tugging at it a bit before he finally let them drop in his lap. Marinette bit her lip; his cheeks were still pink and his ears were flaming . It was kind of adorable. 

“Any more questions?” he asked, with a sigh.

“The pink?” she asked shyly, and Luka shrugged, looking away though he grinned.

“Rose is always leaving stuff on the boat. I’ve got a few of her pens that got mixed up in my things, and I never remember to give them back. They’ve actually come in handy in class a couple times when I wanted to mark an important note.”  He drew a slow breath in, and let it out, fingertips tapping together between his knees. “I’m really sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” he said in a rush. “I—I mean, you know, how I feel about you. And this,” he gestured with the notebook and then tossed it aside. “It’s just daydreams. I obviously never meant for you to see any of that, and—” 

Marinette put a hand on his arm, cutting him off. “Luka, don’t apologize for your private thoughts. I’m sorry that me seeing them has made you feel bad.” Even if he was kind of adorable, unusually flustered and…vulnerable. She felt a pang of conscience; Luka put so much of himself out there, and it must be absolutely mortifying for the things he chose to keep to himself to be exposed like this. 

“They, um.” She cleared her throat and twined her fingers together in her lap. “They all thought I did it. Wrote that stuff, I mean. My, um. My name like that. With yours. We don’t have to tell anyone it was you.” 

Luka looked at her sharply. “But—” he began, and Marinette didn’t want to hear what she knew he was going to say. 

“No, seriously, it’s fine.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t mind. If everyone knows I like you. And that I’m over Adrien now. I’m okay with that.” 

Luka stared at her. 

Marinette cleared her throat. “I mean,” she began, and her voice trembled a little. Luka grabbed her hand, and she went on quickly, “I would look a lot less stupid if we were dating. Instead of another pointless Marinette crush. Just, um. Putting that out there.” 

“Then I guess,” Luka said slowly, like he still wasn’t sure what was going on, “We better go on a date. Wednesday?” 

Marinette giggled. “Friday would be more traditional.” 

“Couffaine,” he reminded her, squeezing her hand. “Besides, I can’t wait that long. I’ll meet you at the steps?”

Marinette nodded. “You better hold my hand. You know, so people will see.”

“I can do that,” he agreed. “I think letting go might be harder though.” 

“Well, you have until Wednesday to figure out how to explain that to my parents,” Marinette giggled, and Luka laughed, a full, rich laugh that was a little higher pitched than usual. 

“This can’t be happening,” he muttered, running his free hand through his hair. 

Feeling unusually bold, Marinette leaned up and cupped his cheek, and pressed her lips to his. He made a noise that she could only call a squeak and she giggled against his lips. 

“That was not convincing,” he said breathlessly, eyes bright and focused entirely on her in a way that made her shiver. 

Marinette grinned. “You try it then.” 

He pounced on her, both hands curling behind her head, and kissed her until she was dizzy from it, before finally sitting back to look at her in wonder. 

“See?” Marinette teased, turning her face into one of his palms. “You let go after all.”

“Did I?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear. “It doesn’t feel that way.” 

They both turned to look as the door to Luka and Juleka’s bedroom creaked open. Juleka peeked out, and seeing them so close with Luka’s hands on her face, and probably both smiling like idiots, she came all the way out.

“So when’s the wedding, Marinette Couffaine?” she mumbled shyly, but with a teasing grin growing on her face..

Luka threw the notebook at her, and she dodged, cackling. The siblings flipped each other off as Juleka went up the stairs, and Luka turned back to Marinette.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said, fighting a grin. “I’m totally negotiable on the name thing.”

“Are you sure about this?” Viperion demanded, his normally calm voice strained as he caught Ladybug’s elbow. “I don’t like this plan, it’s too dangerous. Those tunnels aren’t like the movies, they—” 

“I know that,” she snapped, jerking her arm free, and then winced, softening her voice. “It’s not the first time. I know what I’m doing. If you’ve got any other ideas, I’m all ears.” 

Viperion ground his teeth, letting out a frustrated sigh through his nose. He really didn’t. And if she didn’t either, then there probably wasn’t any other solution. She always saw the possibilities. It was something he’d always admired about her, on a professional level. 

It just…wasn’t easy to be professional with her anymore. “Are you sure?” he asked again, but she was already walking to the platform, and he could feel the vibration of the oncoming, akuma-powered train hurtling down the tunnel towards them.

“You know what to do,” she tossed over her shoulder, with a fake cheerfulness that made him ache. 

He wished that were true. He really didn’t know what to do anymore. 

He knew what was expected, though, so he flicked back the slide on his bracelet, the words “Second Chance,” coming out tight and frustrated. 

Ladybug was taking her yoyo from her hip and suddenly Viperion was moving. In two long strides he caught her, jerking her back to him. It was stupid, he knew that even as he jammed his mouth against hers. It was stupid, and possibly wrong, definitely hypocritical, and he did it anyway, his heart pounding in his chest. She gasped against his mouth and pressed for just a moment against his hold. The train came screaming through one tunnel opening and into the other, and she stopped pushing. Her arms came tight around his neck and she kissed him back, just as hard. It was rushed and messy and rough enough that he thought she was probably angry, but her hands were in his hair and her tongue was in his mouth and he could only drag her closer and try to keep up. 

The sudden silence of the station, the sudden loudness of gasped air between hungry lips and a whine he hadn’t known he was making, brought them back to reality, and when she dropped her hands to press his shoulders, he let her slide down him, though he kept his mouth on hers until her feet hit the floor. 

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Viperion swallowed, and Ladybug’s lips pursed tight together. She blinked quickly, and he saw the glitter of tears. “You ass,” she whispered. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

She held up a warning finger practically in front of his nose. “Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” he promised, and then hesitated. “It’s just…hard to watch you do these things. Now that I know it’s you.”

Ladybug scowled. “I knew it. Damnit, Luka, this is why you weren’t supposed to know!”

He had nothing to say to that. It wasn’t as if he had asked for this. She hadn’t wanted him to know, so he hadn’t tried to know. It had just…happened. 

Ladybug sighed. “Just…do it. I can’t deal with this right now. Some other time.” 

Some other timeline.

Viperion let out another quiet sigh through his nose as he pushed the slide back. A familiar flash of disorientation, and she was walking away from him. 

“Are you sure,” he asked one more time, and she just looked over her shoulder and winked. The train came screaming through, her yoyo zinged out towards it, and then she was gone before he could even blink. Viperion ran to the edge of the platform to look down the tunnel, heart in his throat, and he got the slightest glimpse of red—not the red he was afraid of, but red in a familiar shape, clinging to the back of the train, before it whipped around the next curve and was out of sight.

She was panicking. She could feel it in the way her heart felt like it was shoving up into her throat and choking her, still beating wildly the whole time. She was so stupid, she knew better, why did this always happen, why couldn’t she be on time for just one day—

Think. She needed to think. Solve the problem, that’s what we do right? Marinette put one hand on her purse, but guilt stopped her. There had to be another solution, Tikki wouldn’t like it if she just—but what else was she supposed to do? A taxi—did she have enough money for a—

“Marinette?” 

Her head snapped up, and she found herself staring up at Luka, who was standing with one foot on the ground and the other still on the pedal of his bicycle. His brow furrowed in concern even as he looked at her. “Weren’t you supposed to go on your school trip today?” he asked. “I thought that’s why Juleka left early, to catch the bus.”

Marinette slumped, ashamed, and whipped her hand away from her purse to rub at the back of her head. “I—” Even as she stuttered out an explanation, she could see Luka taking in her suitcase and putting together what must have happened.

Her babbled explanation was cut off by the click of his kickstand as he got off of his bike. “Come on, it’s not too late, let’s go.”

“What? But Luka—” Marinette began protesting, even as Luka was loading her bag on the luggage rack. “You can’t ride all the way to the airport!” 

“I could try,” Luka grinned. “But I think I can catch the bus before it come to that. It couldn’t have left too long ago, right?” He was still moving, even as he was talking, and Marinette took the pink helmet he handed her without thinking.

“Luka, I can’t ask you to do that—” she began, but he was already straddling the bike again. She took the hand he offered without thinking, climbing onto the bike seat. “You can’t catch up to a bus—” 

“In this city?” Luka snorted. “Bet you I can. Hold on, though, it might not be the smoothest ride.” 

“This is insane,” Marinette moaned as she put her arms around his waist. “You’ll be late for school!”

Luka just shot a grin back at her and started the bike with a hefty push. “Here we go.” 

Marinette moaned to herself, and held on tighter. 

The ride was a blur. It was hard to see much beyond Luka’s back anyway, and between the crisis and the bump of the bike Marinette’s brain was too rattled to process what was going on. Luka whipped into alleys she hadn’t even known were there a heartbeat before he turned, and Marinette clamped her teeth to keep from squealing and distracting him. He didn’t have much breath for talk, anyway, and some corner of her mind found the time to be impressed, not only at how well he knew the city’s back ways, but at the way he was thinking on the fly to find them a route that would, she hoped, eventually intersect the bus. Then they hit another bump and Marinette squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to Luka and praying for heavy traffic on the main roads.

“We’re going to make it,” he told her as her hands tightened on his shirt. “Don’t worry.” 

Marinette laughed weakly, and as a downhill slope gave him a chance to glide, he looked over his shoulder and shot her a reassuring smile. 

She had to smile back.

“B-but your publicist—” she began, trying not to stare at the bright pink boxers peeking out from his open fly. He wasn’t even part of the show, he was only back here because he was her friend, and what would his agent think about his rising rock star wearing a ballgown in a highly publicized fashion show?

“They can deal. That's their job, after all.” Luka raised his eyebrows and sat down on a nearby chair to pull off his combat boots. “Well? Clock’s ticking.” He said it kindly, but Marinette knew he was right. She glanced at the clock and panic resurged. 

Marinette looked at him, and at the dress, and back, mind racing. It could work, she realized. The laced corset bodice meant there wouldn't be any problem with a zipper. The dress was sleeveless so Luka’s arms, which though lean sported far more muscle than Annie’s, wouldn't be a problem, nor his broader shoulders. Obviously Luka didn't have anything to fill the top out, but really, neither did Annie, so it shouldn't be a big deal. 

And really, what choice did she have?

“Let's do it,” she decided, motioning frantically to her dressers. They brought the dress over, and Marinette quickly turned to her assistant as Luka shimmied out of his jeans. “Get me a makeup kit and send Gerrold over here now. Threaten him, bribe him, I don’t care. Luka!” she called over her shoulder. “Can you walk in heels?” The hem was going to be too short for him no matter what they did, there was no way around that except to own it. 

“Better than you,” came Luka’s teasing reply, and Marinette rolled her eyes, still keeping her back to him. “Tell Yvette your shoe size. Yvette, get him the highest heels you can find that can match the dress. You know what, get a backup pair of flats too, I don’t want to deal with his agent if he breaks an ankle. Make sure he can walk in the high ones and if he looks unsteady, put him in the flats.” 

“How’s it look, boss?” called one of her dressers, and Marinette turned around. The full skirt of the princess style ballgown poofed out dramatically, just as it was mean to, and the corset molded to Luka’s torso as Devine laced it up in the back. Luka’s broad shoulders actually emphasized the narrow waist, making the silhouette even more dramatic, and he had enough muscle in his chest that the front didn’t gape. 

He looked…really good, actually. The deep red of the dress looked fantastic against his darkly tanned skin. Gerrod had arrived and was busy applying product, gelling Luka’s hair into an artistic mess that would mesh well with her other models, while giving him an androgynous look. 

“Makeup,” her assistant said at her elbow, and Marinette took the kit from her, reaching over the wide skirt to hand the kit to Luka. 

“I know you can do it faster than me,” she told him. “Just don’t get any on the dress.” The dressers were already frantically draping him in scrap fabric to keep Gerrold’s products from dripping. Luka went to work on his face, and Marinette turned away for a moment to make sure everything else was ready. Her other models were already lining up according to the directions of the stage crew, right behind—Lila. She was waiting for her cue but Marinette thought she caught a malicious smirk before Lila disappeared through the curtains. 

Marinette pressed her lips together. She was willing to bet every garment in the show that Lila had paid off Annie to leave early, or something similar. 

Underestimating Marinette, as always. 

She was so lucky to have people she could depend on. Marinette checked the other models, made a few last minute adjustments, whispered a few words of encouragement where they seemed to be needed, and then turned back to check on Luka. 

He was walking towards her, carefully holding out the full skirt, navigating the high black pumps Yvette had found for him with an ease that justified his confidence. His hair was side-swept and tousled perfectly, giving him a touch of androgyny that he had leaned into with his makeup work. Even so, he was every inch a man, and not really what she had intended for this look, but…

But it looked good. He looked good. His painted lips parted in a smirk as he saw her approving look. “Told you,” he teased. “Your clothes look good on anyone.” 

“I think it might just be that anything looks good on you,” Marinette said, hands reaching out to adjust the fall of the fabric across his chest, and smooth imaginary flaws from the skirt. “Thanks so much for doing this, Luka.”

Luka’s hands caught hers. “Hey. Anything for you, you know that.” He smiled as she met his eyes. “It’ll be okay, Marinette. I promise.” 

She couldn’t help believing him when he looked at her like that. Marinette raised his hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles. Luka took his place in line and Marinette ran to obey the stage hands directions, barely keeping her grip on the microphone he handed her before shoving her out on stage.

Somehow, Marinette managed to announce her line—for once her insistence on over-rehearsing was justified. The crowd applauded, and Marinette fled back behind the curtain as the music started. She had to force herself to watch the monitor instead of the line of models behind her. 

Marinette’s heart leapt into her throat as Luka stomped onto the runway as confidently as any model she’d ever seen. The crowd went totally silent for several full seconds before cheers and applause erupted. Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall, Marinette chanted in her head as Luka made his way down the runway. She held her breath as he did his pose-and-turn, staring into the camera with eyes so intense the dress almost seemed redundant. Marinette’s heart skipped a beat and she watched Luka’s mostly-bare back ripple under the lights as he walked back. 

Then he was backstage again, and extending a hand to her. Marinette barely had the presence of mind to take it (God he towered over her in those heels) and join the models on their final walk. 

“Smile,” Luka whispered urgently, just as they stepped out together on the runway. They followed the line of models, still hand in hand, Marinette belatedly remembering to wave to the audience and cameras—

And then it was over. They were all backstage again in a confused mass as the stage hands tried to herd them out of the way for the next line of models. 

Marinette kept an iron grip on Luka’s hand until they were back in their own dressing area. The dressers swept in and began undressing the models and calling instructions. Marinette found herself and Luka left alone in a little eddy of calm for a moment. 

“Are you all right?” Luka asked her, cupping her cheek with his free hand. “You look like you might pass out.”

“I might,” Marinette said faintly, and then she threw herself at Luka, bursting into tears. 

“Woah,” he caught her, stumbling for the first time in his heels. She felt him shrink as he stepped out of them, and wrapped his arms around her. “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, you made it. Don’t drip makeup all over this dress. Someone very important to me worked really hard on it,” he teased gently. He reached around her to grab a tissue from a vanity and dabbed at her face. 

The tears went as quickly as they came and Marinette caught his hand. “Luka you were amazing,” she told him. “Thank you so much, you have no idea—well, yes you do, but I—oh, Luka!” Reaching up, she grabbed his face and pulled him down to slam her mouth against his, heedless that she was crushing the skirt of his gown. Her mouth slid on the slickness of his lipstick, but he quickly adjusted to meet her. His arms slid down and under her butt to lift her up against him. Marinette wrapped her legs against his waist and buried her hands in his hair before she remembered his back and shoulders were uncovered, and her hands slid down to trace the muscles gone hard with the effort of holding her up. 

It was the first time the tabloids would be right about her making out with one of her models after the show. The incongruous thought made her break away from Luka to giggle. 

“It’s a shame you can’t model for me again,” she said breathlessly. “You’re really, really good at it.” 

“I might be persuaded,” Luka rasped, and cleared his throat. 

“Nope,” Marinette shook her head. “Not possible. I don’t date my employees.” 

She barely had time to see his grin before he was kissing her again. 

He played, of course. He played, and he tried to write, and the pen shook in his hand, knowing that his whole future and the future of everyone who was betting on him would depend on what he wrote. He paced the small space, and he took long walks, and he sat in the park and ate in cafes and tried to remind himself why he loved Paris. He showed up at the studio and at band meetings when he was required to, but his answer was always the same when they asked him how the new album was coming. “I’m still working on it.”

He missed Marinette. She would have been so excited for his first apartment alone, no matter how small it might be. She would have made him floor pillows and curtains while he pretended to protest through his laughter. She would have filled the room with her larger than life personality and even after she left, her energy would linger in him, spurring him to at least tack up some pictures of his loved ones, and he’d be smiling as he tried to work out his plan for the new album, even if it frustrated him.

She wasn’t answering his calls at all, now. Not since Kagami had gone to see her. Luka had finally called Kagami, and when he finally got through her layers of assistants, the flat way she had answered the phone made him change his question to, “Are you okay?” 

That seemed to take her off guard, and she answered softly, “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. Were we ever really friends, Luka?”

“That bad, huh?”

“No…no, not exactly. It was just—it felt like I was having lunch with Adrien instead of Marinette. Like she was reading a script. She just kept… smiling …” 

She couldn’t see his slow nod, of course. 

“Was it ever real?” Kagami asked. “Did I just imagine it was different with her?” 

“No,” Luka promised her, but it was all the reassurance he could give. 

“Are you sure you can’t…” Kagami trailed off, and it took him a moment to realize she wouldn’t continue, so accustomed was he to her clipped, precise speech.

“No,” he whispered. “I can’t. I told her a long time ago I would always respect her choices. I can't go back on that now.”

If his work had been slow going before, it had practically dragged to a halt since that conversation. There was only the quiet, and the sense that he was waiting. For something to happen. For something to change. 

And now…

Luka sat at the tiny second-hand table he used for both eating and working, and stared at the blank white wall without seeing it.

Some days he hated himself for asking her to put her name on him. Maybe if he hadn’t, he’d think they were still fine. Still friends. Maybe he’d still believe what she told him last time he saw her—that they were good. Still good. 

Luka glanced at the magazine on the counter next to him and shoved it away. He picked up his glass and took a large swallow. Only water. He didn’t trust himself with anything stronger right now.  

He wondered if she ever hated him for putting his mark on her. She always kept it covered, either with her clothes or her hair, only the edges peeking out here and there in all her press photos. 

For his privacy, she had once explained.

Was that still why?

Luka was sure it was as dark as it had ever been. The less she thought of him, the more he thought of her. Did she hate him for that? 

Did she even think about him enough to hate him?

His hand bunched the fabric of his shirt over his side and he sighed. 

The ring of his phone wasn’t at all unexpected. Luka picked it up, figuring he might as well get it over with. 

“Hey,” he said dully.

There was a gusty sigh on the other side of the line. “You saw it, didn’t you.” 

“Yeah.”  At least when she’d been dating Adrien, she’d cared enough to call him personally. Now he didn’t even warrant a phone call for one of the biggest events in her life. 

“And now you’re moping around telling yourself how you’re glad she’s happy.”

“I am glad she’s happy.” If she even was happy. He had his doubts, looking at that picture, at the model-perfect smile on her face and the careful posing of her hand to show the glittering ring. At her blond, smirking fiancé with a face that was far too similar to another one he remembered. What are you doing, Marinette?

“You’re so full of shit.”

“Sure, Ding,” Luka sighed. 

“Look, Lu, I don’t know what changed between you guys, but this...thing, isn’t good for you anymore.” 

Luka grunted, not especially interested in Dingo’s opinion of his love life, or lack thereof. He drew circles in the condensation his glass had left on the countertop. He still loved her, yeah, but right now…he’d give a lot just to have his friend back. 

“Lu,” Dingo said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “Finish the song.”

Luka froze, stomach turning to ice.

“Finish it, perform it, record it,” Dingo said firmly. “Tell her all the things you’ve been holding back all this time. Get it—” He paused, and didn’t say get it out of your system, for which Luka was grateful. 

Luka pressed his lips together, and swallowed the lump in his throat. “You think?” 

“Yeah. It’s time, mate.” 

Luka’s shoulders hunched, and he gradually folded in on himself until his forehead rested on the table. It was cold, he noted absently. 

“Lu?” 

“I’ll think about it,” Luka sighed. 

“Don’t think about it,” Dingo advised, “Just do it. Your work sucks when you think. Just…get it out. You’re going to choke on it if you don’t, anyway.” 

Luka snorted softly. “I gotta go,” he said, quietly, and didn’t wait for an answer as he hung up the phone. He put it carefully on the table next to him, and folded his arms around his head. His breathing had gone shaky and it was loud in spite of the road noise and raised voices coming through his window. Some detached, blank corner of his mind listened to the rhythm of his harsh breaths drowning out the sound of the world rolling by, listened to the rhythm change as his eyes began to sting, listened to it become stuttery and uneven as breaths became sobs. Later, when he could play, when he could hear the music again, he would need that rhythm. But for now, it just felt...silent. Empty. No music. No color. 

No smiles, no laughter. No stuttering, no crescendo to that’s not what I meant, Luka! and no sighs of exasperation that always ended in comforting hugs given and received. No late night calls, no trading frustrations and mock threats. No quiet whispering of fears that couldn’t be admitted beyond the quiet space beyond the two of them. 

He had to let all that go. She had let him go, and he had to respect it. 

But it hurt. It hurt a lot, and he sat with his head down on his tiny table and cried, mourning the loss of something that had been such a huge part of his life. 

***

In the end, he wrote a whole album full of songs. He wrote hopeful songs. He wrote sad songs. He wrote angry songs. He wrote his love and his heartbreak and he didn’t stop until it was all out. He wrote it, he recorded it, he performed it, throwing his entire self into his work, both the recording and the performing. Night after night he relived his heartbreak in front of crowds of screaming strangers, and every night he went back to his hotel room feeling like he’d left a piece of himself on stage, wondering if he left enough pieces then it wouldn’t hurt anymore, or when the repetition would finally dull the pain. He fell asleep exhausted and woke up empty, and somehow had to find it in himself to do it all again.

Critics praised his musicality. Fans gushed about his sincerity and passion (and, of course, his good looks). Gossip magazines passed rumors of conflict in the band, affairs with his personnel, and speculated on his diet and weight changes. They published pictures of him haggard and depressed with theories about his deteriorating mental state, and gleefully predicted the band’s downfall when the bass player left, or was kicked out, depending on the “source.” Ticket sales soared through it all. 

And then when the tour was over, proclaimed a wild success, Luka Couffaine disappeared. Vanished from the music scene like he had never been. A sabbatical, his publicist assured the press and his disappointed but devoted fans. He’d be back, recharged and ready to create. 

A breakdown, suggested the tabloids. Maybe even a drug spiral. They published photos of him with his head in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other. Maybe he was in some celebrity rehab facility somewhere. His fans scoffed. Everyone knew he struggled with headaches, ever since he had had to stop a show in Sweden to ask them to change the lights. He had admitted it and everyone loved him for his vulnerability and humanity. Addicted to prescription painkillers, countered the tabloids, to the outrage of Luka’s defenders.

His representatives only reiterated what they had always said, and the press’s search for him went nowhere. Eventually, they ran out of news, or even rumors. Fans mourned and hoped by turns.

But the entertainment industry moves quickly, and before too long, Luka Couffaine was forgotten. 

“A sunset ride sounds nice,” Marinette admitted, smiling at him. The sunset picture of them that first time they’d met up at Le Mans, sitting on Luka’s bike and looking starstruck at each other, still had a place of honor in their house. Many others had joined it; they had visited Le Mans every year until the kids were born, and they’d gone off and on once the children were old enough. 

Nowadays Le Mans was a special occasion trip, though, and they always rented a campsite. Their little camper had served them well ever since they had saved up to buy it as newlyweds, seeing them through many an adventure. There had been times they thought of trading it in, but Luka always managed to fix it up again, and now it was practically part of the family.

“A lot has changed, hasn’t it?” Marinette said, sitting down in the pink chair with faded flowers stenciled on the back. 

“It would have to,” Luka pointed out, opening the cooler to hand Marinette two bottles of water. “It’s been, what, forty years? If nothing had changed the place would be looking pretty sad.” He sat down in his own chair as Marinette twisted the cap off of a bottle and handed it back to him. He’d managed to keep his arthritis mostly under control so that he could still play his instruments and tinker with his bikes, but he accomplished that partly by taking it easy when he didn’t need to be using his hands. 

Luka took the water, transferred it to his other hand, and reached back out to take Marinette’s hand, caressing her fingers with his thumb. Dropping everything to go to Le Mans that weekend forty years ago had been the best decision of his life. Everything good that had happened to him came from that—from Marinette, and the life they’d built together.

He saw her face light up and smiled, before turning to see their son approaching, two small children clinging to his hands. They grow so fast, Luka thought wistfully. He missed holding babies. That warm, soft weight in his arms brought him indescribable happiness. 

One of the little girls let out a screech and came running to throw herself in his lap. “Easy, easy,” Luka laughed, even as he squeezed her as tightly as he could. “How’s my little songbird?” 

Evie smacked a kiss on Luka’s wrinkled cheek. “I’m hungry,” she announced, and Luka grinned. 

“Then you ought to be snuggling up to your grammy,” he teased. “You know she’s the one who controls the food.” 

Evie promptly hopped out of Luka’s lap and went to join her sister, who was already hugging Marinette while begging for treats. 

Jake strolled up chuckling. He grabbed another folding chair out of the camper and set it next to his father. “How was the drive?” Luka asked, reaching into the cooler.

“Not bad.” Jake shrugged, accepting the soda Luka handed him and cracking it open. “Didn’t have to make so many stops this time.” 

“Where’d you park?” Luka asked, and Jake gestured vaguely. 

“A ways,” he said, “but it’s a nice walk.”

“How’re things with Anna?” Luka asked, his voice low, and Jake grimaced. “That good, eh?” 

“Same old same old,” Jake sighed. “I know she loves us, but I think she loves her job more. Right now it’s just trying to decide if I can live with that.”  

Luka put a hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’re here for you whatever you decide.” 

Jake smiled. “I know. Where’s Erika?” 

Luka snorted. “Gearing up for the race, of course. You know she likes to spend some time alone before she gets on the track.” He tried not to show his irritation, or his fear. It turned out it was a lot harder to watch one’s daughter taking stupid risks riding a death machine at insane speeds. Safety gear had come a long way over the years but his heart still clenched when he watched his baby girl on the track, even as he screamed support and glowed with pride. 

“She’ll be okay, Dad,” Jake said, and Marinette paused her snack distribution to pat Luka’s hand. 

“Of course she will. She’s the best,” Luka bluffed, and Jake rolled his eyes while Marinette giggled. 

“How are things going with the shop?” Jake asked, and Luka grinned while Marinette groaned.

“I still can’t believe we did that,” she muttered.

“We met at that shop,” Luka protested. “I couldn’t let that idiot run it into the ground after all the work Michel put into it.”

“At least it gives him something to do,” Marinette told Jake philosophically.

“Not that I’m doing much,” Luka confessed. “The manager I hired is great at her job. I’m just there to smile at customers and stay out of her way.”

“He’s plastered the place with Erika’s racing posters,” Marinette put in, and Jake laughed. 

“It’s good for business!” Luka protested lamely.

“That’s totally why,” Marinette giggled.

“I’m not ashamed of being proud of my daughter. Or my son.” He smiled at Jake. “If they made posters for awesome dads I’d have you papered all over the store too.”

Jake snorted. “Thanks, Dad. I love you too.” 

Luka reached over and ruffled Jake’s carefully arranged black hair, and Jake made a face at him as he patted it back into place. 

“You’re not overdoing it, though, are you?” Jake asked. “Running a business can be rough.” 

“Honestly, Delia does all the hard work,” Luka reassured him. “I just help with the fun stuff like inventory ordering. I did go to a trade show with her once to check out some new products. That was a lot of fun but it did wear me out,” he admitted. 

“Hmm,” was all Jake said, but he didn’t ask any more questions, satisfied that his father was enjoying himself at least. 

“You should stop by sometime soon,” Luka told him, squeezing his shoulder. “I bet we could get you some customers for those sick custom paint jobs.”

Jake looked away. “I haven’t done that in a long time.” 

“Doesn’t mean you can’t pick it up again,” Marinette said gently. “It’s never too late, and the girls are old enough now to entertain themselves for a bit.”

“Think about it,” Luka told him, and let his hand drop. “The offer’s always open.” 

“Daddy!” Maddie popped out of seemingly nowhere and leaned on Jake’s knee. “Can we go see the bikes?” 

“Sure,” Jake said, smiling at his youngest. “Let’s go. Does anybody need to go potty first?”

“Me!” Evie yelled, and darted into the camper.

Maddie groaned and pouted, but Jake coaxed her into walking over to the next campsite to check out the bike parked in front of it.

Luka watched them go, and then turned his eyes on his wife, who was cleaning up the trash from the children’s snack tornado. He beckoned, and Marinette came to him, perching on his knee. She had always been thin, but these days she seemed to weigh nothing at all. She leaned into him, and he looped his arms around her. “We’ve come such a long way,” she said softly, and Luka nodded, rubbing his cheek along her silky gray hair. 

“Here’s to another forty years,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. Marinette laughed. 

“How long are you planning to live?” she teased, tapping the tip of his nose with her finger. 

“As long as I can have another moment with you,” he whispered with complete sincerity, and kissed her.

Jake looked over his shoulder as Maddie babbled about the bike, and smiled when he saw his parents. He slipped his phone out of his pocket, and as they pulled back and smiled at each other, he took their picture. He’d show them later, he thought, turning away with a smile.