The Miraculous Spiderman Series

The weekend came too soon for Adrien’s liking. Peter was leaving from Friday evening to Sunday morning, and by extension, Spiderman would be gone too. Whether or not Spiderman was actually leaving the country made no difference. If Peter wasn’t around, the hero wouldn’t be suiting up. Stupid protocol.

“Are you taking a taxi to the airport or should I be asking Nathalie to drive you?” Adrien asked. He was sitting on Peter’s bed, watching as his friend hastily packed for his short visit. Peter paused, seemingly just remembering that Adrien was there.

“No, I’ve got someone coming to get me,” he replied, almost under his breath, as he searched for something, ripping pillows off the head of the bed. At his words, a loud buzzing carried from the foyer through the open door of Peter’s room, reaching Adrien’s ears.

“Is that them?”

Peter gave a short nod. “You want to go greet him?”

“Yeah, sure,” Adrien said, sliding off the bed and running down the steps two at a time. Nathalie had already opened the gates, yet she was nowhere to be seen, leaving Adrien to open the door for their guest.

“Hi, I’m here for Peter Parker.” The first thing that Adrien noticed when he opened the door was the visitor’s shirt. It was identical to the one Peter had purchased in London, the cursed ‘You can’t beat this dead horse!’. Which meant that there were only two options to who was currently standing on his front doorstep, and Ned was ruled out as a possibility as Adrien looked up into the extremely recognizable face of Tony Stark.

“Mon Dieu,” Adrien said, almost entirely at a loss for words.

“Mr. Stark, what a surprise.” Adrien’s father was behind him in an instant, a stiff hand extended to Iron Man as he welcomed him into the house. For his recluse father, that was the equivalent of him getting on the ground and kissing Tony Stark’s Italian loafers.

“I’m just here to pick up my kid,” Mr. Stark said, grasping Gabriel’s hand firmly. “Gotta take him back for a few days. Thanks for taking care of him while he’s here.” He turned his attention to Adrien. “You must be Adrien. He’s always going on about you. Says you’re a great kid.”

Adrien was internally freaking out, his panic only increased when Mr. Stark winked at him. He’d been on the receiving end of one of Iron Man’s winks!

“Adrien, how about you go get Peter,” his father said coldly, disrupting the choir of angels that was currently singing in Adrien’s head.

“Of course,” Adrien said, giving Iron Man one last look before taking off up the stairs.

Peter was cramming the last few items into his backpack as Adrien practically flew into his room. “Iron Man is here for you!” He panted, grasping onto the doorframe. Peter didn’t look surprised at all.

“Okay, thanks Adrien. I think I’m ready to go anyways.” Peter slung his bag over his shoulder, passing Adrien, who was still trying to process everything, on the way out.

“There’s my boy!” Mr. Stark exclaimed as Peter and Adrien rejoined them in the foyer.

“You’re wearing the shirt!” Peter said, grinning. “Twins!” He opened his jacket to reveal the fact that they were, in fact, twinning.

“I love it!” Iron Man said, tucking one hand into his jean pocket, the other reaching out to sling an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “You should’ve seen the look on Pepper’s face when I showed up with it. It was a riot. But we can catch up on the jet. Time to say goodbye for the weekend.”

“Bye Adrien!” Peter beamed. “I’ll see you Sunday!”

“Bye Peter,” Adrien said haltingly. “Bye Iron Man.” Adrien was always meeting people more important than him, and he knew that the number one rule was to just treat them like normal people, but there was no way he could treat Iron Man like a normal human being. He was the superhero blueprint, an inspiration to Adrien and Chat Noir. So he just stood agape.

“Do you want a picture?” Tony Stark asked.

“Can I?” Adrien looked to his father for permission, and Gabriel Agreste gave one blessed and curt nod.

Adrien pulled his phone out, opening it to the camera, making sure he got Mr. Stark and Peter in the photo, giving the camera his biggest smile. Peter did a peace sign, and Iron Man pointed to Adrien. It was so cool, Adrien wasn’t entirely convinced he wasn’t dreaming.

“Okay kid, we really need to get going,” Mr. Stark said, steering Peter out the door. “I’ve got a meeting with Cap that I can’t be late for.”

Adrien watched them walk down the steps and climb into an expensive red sports car. How had Peter been impressed by the Agreste mansion when he hung out with Tony Stark? The man practically owned New York. And Adrien was more confused than ever about Peter’s relationship with the billionaire. He’d been under the impression that Mr. Stark was a boss Peter had met maybe once or twice, but it obviously went beyond that. It was like Peter was Tony Stark’s…kid.

“You didn’t tell me that Peter Parker worked for Tony Stark.” His father’s voice was cold, like an icy wind that bit into Adrien’s skin like needles.

“I didn’t think it was important,” Adrien replied semi-honestly. “I didn’t know they were that close, I swear. I thought Peter was just an intern.”

“Obviously Mr. Parker holds a great deal of respect for the man, and he is foolish to do so. Tony Stark is a loose cannon that destroys everything in its path. He is not the man you wish to respect, Adrien. You will soon learn the difference between great men and dangers to society.” He said. Something about his father’s words was like a slap to Adrien’s face. Disrespecting Iron Man was one thing, but calling Peter foolish? Peter was anything but.

“If your friend,” Gabriel spat the word out like it left a nasty taste on his tongue, “wants to become a great man himself, he’s idolizing the wrong person.”

“Peter Parker already is a great man!” Adrien yelled, uncertain of what had come over him. “But he’s also a good one. Can’t say the same about you.” And with that final blow, he stormed back up to his room, seething. Peter hadn’t been gone for even ten minutes and already Adrien wanted him to come back more than anything. It was going to be a long weekend.

“Come on,” Plagg nudged Adrien’s toe. His chosen had flopped onto his bed, eagle-spread, and was staring at the ceiling with no intent of bringing himself back to reality any time soon.

“What?” Adrien sighed. “Peter’s gone.”

“For two days. You used to do all sorts of things before Peter lived with us.”

“Like. What.”

“Good question,” Plagg responded. “You stared at your little annoying electronic box a lot, I remember that. You also had other friends.”

“Nino and Alya are hanging out this evening,” Adrien groaned. “And I don’t have patrol for another four hours. And I’ve just rowed with my dad, so he’s going to be mad all week. God, why did I do that?”

“Because he dragged Iron Man and Peter’s names through the mud,” Plagg supplied. “And you’re not the sort to just sit there and let Peter get disrespected like that.”

“Yeah, I’m not!” Adrien agreed, sitting up. “I should go tell him that!”

“I’m not saying go fight your dad again, as interesting as that would be, I think it’s best you do something to clear your head.” Adrien raised an eyebrow, fixing his kwami with a questioning look.

“It’s not like you to actually give good advice. Is something wrong?”

“I always give the perfect advice, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Plagg folded his arms across his chest. “The last piece of advice I gave you was to stop sticking your tongue down Marinette’s throat if you were trying to get with Ladybug and that was great advice.”

“Marinette!” Adrien said, grabbing his phone. “I can totally ask her to hangout!”

Plagg sighed loudly, zooming away as Adrien sent a quick text off to Marinette. While he awaited her response, he opened his gallery app, looking at the photo he’d taken with Iron Man and Peter. It was glorious. Perhaps he’d print it out, frame it, and stick it next to the photo of him and Marinette that Peter had taken. His collections of photos with Peter was fast growing, but Adrien didn’t mind much.

Photos of him and Peter before the dance, him and Peter in those ridiculous outfits they’d purchased for each other, him and Peter just talking (captured by Alya). It was like Peter had always been there. He fit so perfectly into Adrien’s life.

Adrien hadn’t had the chance to reveal himself as Chat Noir yet, but he was definitely planning to. Peter was no stranger to the world of superheroes, it was a wonder he hadn’t figured it out yet. Or maybe he had, and was just too polite to say anything. Adrien had ran his plan by Plagg, who agreed with him entirely, surprisingly enough.

Peter and Tony Stark being close didn’t derail his plan in the slightest. He trusted Peter implicitly. It was like they were soulmates of the friend sort, meant to be brought together, despite the fact they’d lived on opposite ends of the world and spoken different languages.

Adrien’s phone buzzed and he snatched it up. Marinette had agreed to hang out.

“Let’s go, Plagg! I’m meeting Marinette in the park!” He quickly transformed, slipping out the window and making his way through the city, doing his best to avoid being recognized before finally touching down behind a tree in the park and detransforming. Marinette was already standing by the fountain, gripping her phone and looking around anxiously.

“Adrien!” She squeaked as he approached. “What’s going on?”

“I thought we could just hangout?” Adrien scratched the back of his neck. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“You just texted me ‘can you meet me in the park right now?’. I thought something had happened.”

“Nope! Peter’s gone back to New York for the weekend, so I could use someone to hangout with. If you’re busy, though, that’s fine too!” Maybe this was a mistake. Marinette hadn’t always been super open with him and she had a tendency to avoid him. Maybe she didn’t want to hangout after all and Adrien had misread their friendship.

“I’d love to hangout!” Marinette assured him. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes!” Adrien leapt at the title. “Friends. Do you wanna go get ice cream?”

“Sure.” She smiled at him as they headed off to the bridge where Andre’s ice cream cart was usually parked. “So, what’s been new with you? I feel like we haven’t properly talked since….” Her voice trailed off.

“Ever?” Adrien supplied. “I mean, we talk sometimes, but not much about our lives. Let’s change that now.”

“Yeah.” Marinette fiddled with her purse. “I’ve been good.”

“Working on any new designs?” Adrien asked, watching her eyes light up at the mention of her hobby.

“Yeah! I’ve actually been working on something for Peter! I feel like everyone’s got one of my designs, and I don’t want him to be left out or anything. Plus, he’s got a funny sense of style.”

“He’ll wear anything,” Adrien rolled his eyes as they reached Andre, purchasing their respective ice creams and taking a seat on the bridge. “Literally anything. You could give him a shirt that says ‘I eat trash’ on it and he’d wear it.”

Marinette laughed. “Somehow I don’t doubt that.”

“No matter what it is, he’ll love it. I know I love all the designs you’ve given me. The jacket you made for my birthday this year, and the scarf you made me last year-”

“You know about the scarf?” Marinette’s eyes went wide.

“You sign everything you make, Marinette. Peter pointed it out to me when I showed it to him. Why didn’t you say anything? I completely thought it was from my dad.”

“I couldn’t bring myself to do it! You looked so happy, thinking it was from your dad, I didn’t want to be the one to take that away from you.”

“I should’ve realized. There’s no way he would ever do something like that,” Adrien muttered.

“What?” Marinette asked, her concerned gaze burning a hole through the side of his head as Adrien stared at his ice cream.

“Nothing, I just meant to say thanks.” He gave her a smile that he hoped masked his true emotions. The mere thought of his dad was completely ruining his outing with his friend. “It was a great scarf, thanks so much for it.”

“No problem?” Marinette said. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it or anything? You seem kinda upset.”

“No!” Adrien said a little too sharply. “Sorry, I mean no, I’d honestly rather not think about him right now, or ever for that matter. To change the topic, I met Iron Man today!” He pulled his phone out, showing her the picture.

“No way! Iron Man was in your house?” Marinette zoomed in on the screen, taking in Tony Stark’s face.

“Turns out he’s essentially Peter’s dad. He came all this way just to fly Peter back to New York and was wearing a shirt Peter bought him when he was in London. It was one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen.”

“Peter’s pretty close with Spiderman too, and Iron Man is like, Spiderman’s mentor, isn’t he? So I guess it only makes sense.” Marinette shrugged. “Are you two going to the lock-in at the school?”

Adrien blinked at the abrupt change in topic. “The what?”

“On Hallowe’en, there’s the option to sleep over at the school and they have a bunch of Hallowe’en activities and stuff. It’s a lot of fun, you should go. If you’re allowed.” Marinette glanced at him then hastily glanced away, looking out across the river.

“Sleep over at the school?” Adrien considered it for a moment. He’d have to get one of those…what were they? Bed bags? No, sleeping bags, his subconscious corrected. “I’ll see if I can make it.”

“Great! It’s next Friday.”

“My girlfriend will be so mad, I’ll have to cancel on her,” Adrien said, smiling as he put the event in his phone’s calendar, completely forgetting he very well couldn’t tell Marinette he was dating Ladybug. He hadn’t even asked Ladybug to be his official girlfriend yet. Good god this was about to be an awkward conversation.

“Girlfriend?” Marinette’s tone seemed intentionally light. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

“Uhhh yeah, it’s a recent development,” Adrien laughed, mildly uncomfortable, but that didn’t stop him from plowing on. “I wish you could meet her. She’s the funniest person I’ve ever met, as well as one of the strongest. She’s so smart and beautiful and I swear she’s the most perfect human being I’ve ever met.”

“That’s great, Adrien. That’s really great.” Marinette stood suddenly.”It’s been great hanging out, but I’ve really gotta go. I forgot that there was something I needed…to do….”

“Oh!” Adrien stood up in suit. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you.”

“No, it’s all good!” Marinette waved the hand that wasn’t holding her ice cream in the air. “I just have homework that I completely forgot about!”

“It’s the weekend,” Adrien pointed out.

“I’m sorry Adrien.” She pursed her lips in thought for a split second, then jogged off, leaving Adrien all alone on the bridge and thoroughly confused as to what had just happened.

“What was that about?” Adrien asked Plagg as he began his long trek back home. All that and he’d only managed to kill two hours.

“The problem is you’re an idiot,” Plagg’s nasally voice informed him, still hidden inside his shirt.

“How am I the idiot here?”

“Girls tend not to like it when you talk about your girlfriends in front of them.”

“That’s ridiculous! Marinette and I are friends. If she had a boyfriend, she’d talk about him too, I’m sure.” Adrien ignored Plagg’s exasperated huff that followed his sentence. “Either way, this weekend is going to suck.”

“Yeah, I forgot how hard it is to deal with you twenty-four seven. I want Peter back.”

“You literally can’t talk to Peter. He doesn’t know you exist.”

“I don’t care, he was way funnier than you, plus he actually has some deductive reasoning skills.”

“Oh, like you do.” Adrien rolled his eyes, calling Plagg to transform him so he could slip back inside through his window. Monday couldn’t come soon enough.

“What was that about?” Tikki asked, concerned, as Marinette ran further and further away from where she’d left Adrien.

Marinette didn’t answer until she was far away from the bridge, sliding into an alley. “I thought I was over Adrien. And then he started talking about his girlfriend and I don’t know…I really do like Chat but a part of me was still jealous.”

She glanced down at Tikki, hoping for some direction, but the kwami continued to look at her with sympathetic eyes.

“Which is completely ridiculous because I’ve got a very caring boyfriend, if you could call Chat that, whom I am very much attracted to, but I just couldn’t sit there and listen to Adrien gush about whatever girl he’s in love with. And I knew all along he liked someone else, he told me as much, but it never seemed so real. I’m with Chat and Adrien is with…someone else.”

“It’s normal not to be over Adrien entirely just yet. You liked him for a long time,” Tikki pointed out. “As long as you’re both happy, that’s what matters, right?”

“I guess,” Marinette shrugged, ducking out of the alley and heading home. “This is just me being stupid. I feel like I’m letting Chat down by not being one hundred percent committed to the idea of being in love with him just yet. But I still like him lots. And I’m not in love with Adrien anymore. That’s progress.”

“That’s the right mindset!” Tikki encouraged. “Chat doesn’t expect you to fall head-over-heels right away! He said so himself.”

Marinette blushed at the memory of the last interaction she’d had with Chat. She’d stayed out all night with him, asleep in his arms. The very thought made her heart beat faster. If her parents ever found out, she’d be so dead. It was a miracle they hadn’t realized already.

For some reason, Marinette had the strong desire to tell Spiderman about her and Chat’s relationship. He obviously knew they were together, but she felt bad making him third-wheel all the time. Even so, Spidey was easy to talk to. Plus she could talk to him about all aspects of her life, unfiltered. The only other being she could do that with was Tikki, and as great as Tikki was, she couldn’t always understand Marinette’s more human actions. Spiderman, however, seemed to know everything there was to know about anything. Maybe it was because he had a computer within his suit or maybe he was just naturally better spoken than she could ever be. Either way, she couldn’t wait to see him at patrols to talk to him.

Ladybug landed atop their usual roof early, entirely prepared for Spiderman to be waiting for her. To her surprise, the Parisian skyline appeared to be a Spidey-free zone that night. There was no sign of him, nor the webs that usually followed his path.

“Do you know what happened to Spiderman?” She asked Chat the second he arrived.

“No?” He looked around, equally as confused as her. “He’s usually here early. Maybe something came up.”

“He usually messages us.” Marinette frowned, sliding her yoyo open in case she’d missed something from their masked friend. Nothing. “What if he’s in danger.”

“He’s probably fine,” Chat said. “Maybe Peter Parker is busy and he can’t suit up.”

“I highly doubt-” Marinette started, before her yoyo interrupted her with a loud rendition of Wonderwall. Her brow creased. She hated that song, so why was her yoyo playing it? How was her yoyo playing it?

“You’ve got an incoming video call,” Chat pointed out. “Must’ve customized his ringtone.”

Ladybug picked up, eyes widening as Spiderman’s face filled the screen.

“What’s up, gang?” Sounds of battle leaked through the connection, and Marinette could catch glimpses of something that looked suspiciously like Iron Man. Oh right, Peter had gone to New York for the weekend, Adrien had said. So did that mean that Spidey was currently in New York as well?

“Hey Spidey,” Marinette said, turning her yoyo to Chat quickly so he could offer his greetings before turning it back to her own face. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just mildly preoccupied at the moment,” he said, then her view tilted as Spiderman did a backflip, swinging through the air.

“Kid! Get OFF your phone!” The unmistakable voice of Iron Man bellowed from somewhere off camera.

“I’m video chatting with my friends!”

“In the middle of battle?”

“It’s not like anything interesting is happen- WHOA!” Spiderman swerved to the side as a school bus flew past his head. “Okay, maybe I’d better go. Long story short, I can’t make it tonight! Terribly sorry. Nor will I be able to make it all weekend, I gotta let Peter Parker enjoy his vacation.”

“Oh no, enjoy your time off too,” Marinette waved away his apology. “Now go focus before you get seriously injured.”

“I’d like to see them try. You should see the guys we’re fighting tonight! They’re all idiots.”

“Idiots with nuclear weapons!” Once again Tony Stark yelled. “Focus, Spiderman! Say goodbye to your friends!”

“See ya,” Spidey said. “I’ll be back on Monday, try not to burn down the city without me, and try not to melt Chat’s brain further, each time I see him it’s closer to turning liquid and running out his nose. À plus tard!” The screen on Marinette’s yoyo turned black and she slid it shut.

“Well, that was certainly an experience.” She put her hands on her hips, turning to Chat.

“He was fighting alongside Iron Man!” Chat practically squealed, hands clasped so tightly his own claws were digging into his flesh. “Do you think we’ll ever get to fight with Iron Man?”

“I’m not sure we want to,” Marinette raised an eyebrow, strolling closer to the edge of the roof. “But enough about that, it’s patrol time, chaton.”

“Whatttt?” Chat looked positively scandalized. “Not even one kiss? It’s been an entire day since I last saw you.”

“Last time we hung out was nothing but trouble. I was late to class.” Marinette gave him her best disapproving stare, but it was crippled by the fact that she wasn’t mad in the slightest.

“I seem to remember you being the one who made us later than we would’ve been had we simply gotten up and left once we’d woken up.” Chat fixed her with a massive grin that looked like it could split his face in half. Against her better judgement, Marinette blushed.

“I seem to remember you kissing me first.”

“And it would’ve been quick if you hadn’t apparently had the best dream of all time,” Chat countered, slowly beginning to prowl closer to her, circling her where she stood. Like he was a shark and she a dying seal.

“It was not the ‘best dream of all time’,” she made finger quotes in the air, imitating his voice. “You don’t even know what it was about, nor will you ever get to, because we have a job to do. And work comes before everything else.”

“What’s got you concerned about patrol all of a sudden?” He sidled up to her, green eyes catching hers with ease. “I thought we established this is hangout time for us.”

She rolled her eyes, looking away from him with no small amount of difficulty. “Well, that was when Spiderman was around. He’s obviously off in New York now, so we can’t rely on him to save our asses if we slack off.”

“I‘ll take that chance,” Chat tried to sneak an arm around her waist, but Marinette spun away from him before he could so much as make contact with her. She had to be the responsible one here, as much as she really didn’t want to.

“I won’t. Patrols first, then whatever else you’ve got up your sleeve.”

“Up my sleeves? You’ve seen how skintight this suit is, if there was anything up my sleeves you’d notice in an instant.” He winked, grabbing his baton. “But if My Lady wishes to do patrol first, who am I to refuse her?” Chat swept into a sort of bow before running off into the night.

Marinette sighed, whipping her yoyo out and beginning her route. The city glowed beneath her feet as she flew along, wind picking up and helping her swing further through the sea of houses and buildings. It was so peaceful at night, a completely different world than the daytime. At night, everything seemed so easy, all her problems hidden in the shadows. Very rarely was the Papillon awake and active at this hour, so patrols were less of an actual hunt for danger and more of a professional courtesy that gave her time to think.

Tonight, she felt like she was missing something. Something big. She had no idea what, or how it would impact her, but the back of her brain was nagging at her, telling her to open her eyes. Her only problem was that she had no idea where she was supposed to start looking, or what she would find.

She landed by la Seine, not too far away from where she’d left Adrien, but that interaction was far from her mind now. Now this mysterious piece of information, one too vague for her to remember, was taunting her. And the moon’s reflection on the water offered no insight, but it did offer a pretty view.

“Penny for your thoughts, My Lady?” Chat had found her, his voice soft as he landed beside her.

“I haven’t got any,” Marinette lied, her gaze still fixed on the dark water. “Just enjoying the nice night.”

“It’s a bit windy, makes it difficult for me to use my baton.” She heard the telltale sounds of his baton closing. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” She finally turned to face her kitty, corners of her mouth turning upwards as she laid eyes on him. “Today’s just been a long day.”

“Wanna sit?” Chat gestured to a bench a few metres away. “You don’t have to talk about it or anything if you don’t want to, sometimes just having someone be there is all you need.”

She nodded once, walking over to the bench and sitting down, leaning into Chat as he joined her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Thankfully her tumult of thoughts quieted, sinking somewhere at the back of her mind. “Thanks, minou.”

“Anything for My Lady,” he replied, thumb stroking her shoulder. “Also, I kinda called you my girlfriend today. I didn’t mention you by name or anything, but I said I had a girlfriend, and I meant you, so would you like to be? My girlfriend, I mean.” He coughed on his own words as they tumbled out, and Marinette glanced at him, surprised. Well, she could no longer lie to herself about what Chat meant to her. Now she had to figure it out, and soon, because Chat was waiting for an answer.

“Uhhhh,” she said, mind racing once more. Answer him!!! Her subconscious screamed at her. “Run that by me one more time?”

Chat’s eyes were wide, equal parts nervous and sincere as he repeated himself. “Would you, Ladybug, be my girlfriend.”

“Yes,” Marinette heard herself saying. That was that, then. She was Chat Noir’s girlfriend. He was her boyfriend. There was no confusion there. So why did she still feel like she was missing out on something?

“That didn’t sound very enthusiastic…,” Chat’s voice drew her back to the present. “Sorry, I should’ve done more, like gotten you flowers or something, I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that so soon. I messed up, sorry.” He retracted his arm from around her, placing both his hands in his lap, fiddling with his fingers.

“No, Chat, what?” He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “No, I’m sorry. Like I said, it’s been a day. I didn’t mean to make you feel like…god, I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t want this.” She reached out, placing both her hands atop his. “You don’t need to buy me flowers or make any grand gestures, you’re Chat Noir, my superhero boyfriend, and that’s always going to be so much more than I deserve.”

“Ladybug, you deserve the best.”

“And I’ve got it.”

Finally Chat looked up at her, eyes swimming with a thousand emotions. “I’m pretty sure Spiderman is a better partner than me.”

“Spiderman could never be a better partner than you. He’s not Chat Noir. You are. And you know me better than anyone. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count. No one could ever be better than you, Chat. You know that. Plus, you’re my boyfriend.”

 “I’ll never get tired of hearing that,” Chat smiled at her. “Even though I can’t tell anyone, just the thought that Ladybug is my girlfriend… Let’s just say I could’ve died a happy man after you kissed me for the first time, and now this is just icing on the cake.”

“You’re an idiot.” Marinette rolled her eyes, then kissed him. She’d barely gotten into it when a low rumbling interrupted her.

“What was that?” She pulled back, looking at Chat, her eyebrows drawing together in worry.

“Stupid cat,” Chat mumbled as the rumbling grew louder, along with his blush.

“Are you purring again?” She’d only heard him purr once before, and he’d stopped almost instantly at the time. The instance had been so short, she’d almost written it off as a realistic dream. But this time there was no mistaking it.

“Unfortunately.” Chat looked less than pleased. “Sorry, it happens when I’m…I don’t know. Happy or whatever.”

“Awww.” Marinette pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose. “That’s adorable.”

“It’s bad enough that it’s something that happens, and now both you and Spiderman have heard me sound like an idiot cat and now-”

“Wait,” she interrupted. “When were you purring around Spiderman?”

“I was, uh, talking about you. After you called me cute over text. Was not my finest moment.” Marinette giggled. Poor Chat, getting all flustered. He really was adorable. How had it taken her that long to realize it?

They talked aimlessly until Ladybug’s miraculous went off, cueing her exit. Leaving Chat felt harder that time, somehow. He was her rock now, the thing that kept her stable, even in the strongest of winds.

As soon as she detransformed back in her bedroom, Tikki obviously wanted to talk.

“So, you’re Chat Noir’s girlfriend now?” She beamed up at Marinette.

“I really wasn’t expecting him to ask me tonight, but yeah. Yeah I am.” She shot her kwami a grin. “I’m going to go take a bath now.” And she did take a bath, but mainly as an excuse to leave her kwami in the bedroom. She needed to call Spiderman, someone who knew what it was like to be in the suit and human outside it.

So she pressed the call button on her superhero phone, hoping he would pick up.

“Yo,” Spiderman answered on the second ring. “What’s up, ‘bug?”

“Chat Noir asked me to be his girlfriend,” Marinette blurted, immediately regretting how abrupt she was coming off. “Sorry, I mean how are you, Spidey?”

“We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you and Chat now.” She could practically hear his grin over the phone. “So did you say yes?”

“Of course I said yes, we were already dating!” She stepped into her bath, being careful to avoid dropping her phone in the tub, keeping it pressed to her ear.

“So then why are you calling me? You literally could’ve just texted. Talking on the phone stresses me out.”

“I guess I could’ve texted,” Marinette agreed hesitantly. “Wait, you’re a literal superhero who faces death on a daily basis and you’re scared of talking on the phone?”

“I’m not scared of it, I’d just rather not. But you’re dodging the question.” His voice sounded strained.

“Um, what are you doing right now?”

“Currently? I’m climbing up the Empire State Building. It’s a bit exerting.”

“Oh.” Marinette didn’t know what to say to that, and decided not to ask him if he was fighting someone. “Well, I called because I’m worried that it will get to the point where Chat will want to reveal our identities, more than he already wants to. I mean, our relationship can’t really progress if we never reveal ourselves, can it?”

“And the concept of him knowing scares you.” It wasn’t a question. “Trust me, Ladybug, he’ll still love you no matter who you turn out to be. And when the time is right, I think you will have to tell each other who you are. Not necessarily because of your relationship, but also because we have to stop the Papillon. And I’m not sure that will be able to happen if both of you still don’t know each other.”

“Master Fu always told me that if Chat Noir and I knew each other’s identities, we would be putting ourselves in danger.”

“Master Fu has told me differently.” Spiderman’s offhanded comment almost made Marinette drop her phone.

“You know Master Fu?”

“We’ve interacted a few times. Shit!” Spiderman swore vehemently. “Not you, I’m just currently free falling off a building and my web-shooter’s jammed itself. There we go.” He let out a long cheer and Marinette could just picture the scene in her head. Spiderman swinging above New York, running atop cars and along the sides of buildings. The mental picture made her smile.

“What did he tell you?”

“No can do, Lady. But what I can tell you is not to worry. That’s a long way off now. Just enjoy what you’ve got going on with Chat while you can. Don’t worry about identities and reveals for now, you’ll know when that time comes. Now I’ve really gotta go, because Mr. Stark will kill me if he finds out I’m on my phone and swinging at the same time, which I don’t get because he does it literally all the time! Pot, kettle, you know. Anyways, bye! See you soon. Bisous or whatever!”

Their brief conversation had left Marinette with far more questions than she’d called with. Since when were Spiderman and the Guardian on casual speaking terms? How had they met, and most importantly, why were they discussing strategy to defeat the Papillon without her?

She was definitely missing whatever made it necessary for her to see the bigger picture, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it, and it was starting to annoy her. And now Spiderman was keeping secrets. And his secrets were the worst kind, because he actually kept them.

Peter had barely gotten one foot in the door of the Agreste mansion before Adrien tackled him in a hug.

“You’re back!” Adrien exclaimed, like Peter had been lost at sea for years.

“Boring weekend, I take it?” Peter didn’t really think it could’ve been that boring. After all, Adrien had apparently acquired a girlfriend while Peter was away, a girlfriend that he would’ve seen every night that he didn’t see Peter.

“Super boring,” Adrien agreed, following Peter up to his room. “By the way, my dad is not super happy that you’re Tony Stark’s, like, foster son. I’m just surprised, to be honest. I didn’t think you two were that close.”

“We’re well acquainted,” Peter said simply, flopping down on his bed. As great as it had been to see Ned and Aunt May for the few days he was back in NYC, he’d sure missed his wonderful room and cloud-like bedding.

“He wore the shirt.”

“Of course he wore the shirt, it was hilarious.” Peter pulled out his phone. “Alya texted me about an hour ago, asking if we’re going to the ‘lock-in’ at the school this coming weekend for Halloween. Are we?”

“Uh, yeah, I thought we could go. It sounded fun, sleeping over at the school, watching scary movies with our friends, that sort of thing.”

“Great! I’ll tell her we’ll be there.” Peter typed up a message to Alya, confirming his and Adrien’s attendance. She’d be thrilled.

“We’ve just gotta convince my dad.” Adrien’s shoulders slumped. Obviously something had happened with his dad whilst Peter was gone. And Peter had a horrible feeling that maybe it had something to do with him being Tony Stark’s apprentice.  

“Wrong,” Peter said, still texting Alya. “We’ve got to convince Nathalie, then Nathalie will convince your dad. And lucky for you, Nathalie loves me.”

“No, no she doesn’t.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Peter shut off his phone with a click and sat up. “Also lucky for you, I’ve always got a plan. Just give me an hour.”

An hour later, they found Nathalie in the dining room, typing something up on her tablet. Peter wasted no time with his sales pitch.

“Okay, listen up.” He set his laptop down on the table carefully, pressing ‘start’ on the PowerPoint presentation he had helpfully prepared to help convince Nathalie that Adrien staying overnight at the school was not only a good idea, but would be beneficial to his cognitive development.

“What is this, Mr. Parker?” Nathalie frowned up at him, eyes darting between the overly-confident Peter and the timid Adrien who was mostly hiding behind him.

“When you think of childhood, do you look fondly back on school sanctioned events? I know I sure do.” Peter launched into his speech, going through his hastily-made slides, most of which bared only a title and a mildly related picture, but Peter didn’t falter once.

“And that’s why Adrien not only should go to this event, but he needs to for the betterment of his self-confidence!” Peter completed, closing his laptop with a satisfying noise.

“Well,” Nathalie started as she stood up, smoothing out her jacket. “You seem to know a lot about psychology and the positives of social interaction.” She eyed Peter almost suspiciously.

“I know a lot about a lot of things.” Peter could do nothing but grin. He’d sold her, he knew it.

“I’ll have to talk to your father,” Nathalie addressed Adrien. “But I don’t think it will be too much of a problem to convince him to let you go to this… ‘lock-in’ event.”

“Really?” Adrien said. “Thank you, Nathalie!”

Nathalie’s gaze softened as she looked at him, then she left, headed off in the direction of Mr. Agreste’s study.

“No way!” Adrien pumped his fist in the air, eyes shining as he looked at Peter. “I can’t believe you managed to convince her!”

“I could back it up with science and I convinced her that it would be more than just a fun time.” Peter winked. “Am I your best friend, or am I your best friend?”

“You’re my best friend,” Adrien confirmed. “I can’t wait.”

Peter suited up reluctantly that night. He’d spent most of his weekend as Spiderman, and although he loved fighting by Tony’s side, it did tire him out eventually. But he’d skipped out on a lot of patrols lately, so he owed it to Ladybug and Chat Noir to at least make an appearance, not matter how brief, that night.

So he was first to the meeting spot, as per usual, tonight wearing his black Eiffel Tower hoodie. The wind was unusually strong tonight, and it ruffled through the fabric, his hood routinely falling off his head until Peter decided to just leave it down.

“Where are they?” Suluu asked, hidden somewhere within the neckline of his hoodie.

“I don’t know,” Peter replied. “But I’m also pretty early.”

“I’m so glad to be back in Paris,” Suluu sighed, her voice wistful.

“Not a fan of New York?”

“Peter, you saw me get eaten by that massive pigeon, right?”

Peter laughed at the memory. His little kwami had decided to join him on a mission instead of resting with Ned back at his apartment, and Suluu had promptly been swallowed by a fat pigeon that had mistaken Suluu for god knows what. Suluu had then had to phase out of the bird’s stomach, covered in spit and thoroughly disgusted. And she hadn’t stopped complaining about it since.

“If you’d just stayed with Ned and my Aunt May that wouldn’t have happened,” he pointed out.

“I find it weird enough that you just told them about me, let alone the fact that they barely even reacted.” Suluu nudged his collarbone.

“I’ve learned it’s best to not keep secrets from them. They always find out in the end, anyways. Plus, they’ve seen their fair share of crazy these past few years with me being Spiderman and all.”

“You didn’t tell Tony about me.”

“Yeah, well that’s probably for the best. Mr. Stark likes to understand things; to be able to account for things with science. I think you’re a little outside his realm of expertise.”

“Who are you talking to?” Ladybug’s voice startled Peter and he jumped.

“M-my suit?” He stammered, trying to slow his heart rate down.

“So you can be snuck up on!” She laughed, gripping her own stomach. Peter frowned, waiting for her to stop before he continued his explanation.

“Well, I was actually a bit distracted, talking about my schedule.” He folded his arms, giving her a look he thought looked quite judging but probably didn’t come across as well on his suit’s expression.

“You talk to your suit?” Ladybug peered at his suit’s eyes, as if she’d be able to see inside if she looked close enough.

“Yeah, I’ve got a suit lady. Her name is Karen.”

“And she talks back?”

“Yeah…? She’s artificial intelligence crafted by Tony Stark himself. Of course she talks back.”

Ladybug looked even more confused, but didn’t have time to ask anymore questions, as Chat chose that moment to show up.

“What’s going on?” He asked, twirling his baton by his side.

“Nothing much,” Peter shrugged, then remembered something important he should probably do to keep everyone’s identities in place. “Patrol next weekend is cancelled in the interest of keeping everyone’s identities secured, by the way.”

“What?” Ladybug looked at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean everyone is busy next weekend for whatever reason, and you two are so bad at giving excuses I think that you’d accidentally give away your identities if I let you explain why you won’t be there. So I’m simply telling you that patrol is cancelled.”

“Makes sense,” Chat shrugged. “Glad to have you back, Spidey.”

“I’ve only been gone for what, two nights?” Peter flicked Chat’s bell. Chat frowned at the intrusion.

“Yeah, and it was the longest two nights of my life,” Chat lamented.

“Guys, we have patrol to do,” Ladybug reminded them. “We can catch up later.”

The rest of the week was entirely uneventful in Peter’s opinion. A few akuma attacks here and there, but nothing memorable. He politely gave Chat and Ladybug their alone time after patrols and the likes, but he couldn’t help smiling like he knew something they didn’t whenever he saw them interact in civilian form. And he did know something they didn’t, in every definition of the phrase.

“Lock-in tonight!” Adrien exclaimed, excitedly pacing around Peter’s room. It had been a surprise to the both of them that Mr. Agreste had agreed to let Adrien go with no extra terms and conditions. Peter had asked Tony to bring them sleeping bags and Iron Man had definitely delivered, gifting the two boys state-of-the-art sleeping bags with the Stark Industries logo emblazoned on them. They even had built-in pillows.

“Yessir.” Peter was currently accumulating everything he would need. Alya had told him about the night’s main event; a heist. Peter didn’t know the details, as the teachers had kept it extra secretive to the point that Alya, the nosiest person in Paris, couldn’t even figure out what they were planning. So Peter was taking it upon himself to be prepared for anything.

“What is that?” Adrien pointed to the cylindrical canister Peter was holding.

“Oh, you know.” Peter shook the canister. “Liquid nitrogen.”

“Why on earth do you have that and why are you bringing it to the lock-in?”

“Because liquid nitrogen is great for breaking into things. Like a cat burglar.”

“Peter, what the hell. It’s a school event.” Adrien shook his head.

“Fine, no liquid nitrogen.” Peter frowned, carefully placing the canister back into his bedside table’s drawer. “What are you bringing, if not liquid nitrogen?”

Adrien listed the usual things, the usual boring things, and Peter nodded along, typing away at his computer, hacking into the school’s security system. It would come in handy later, with the heist.

Because Peter played to win, and it wasn’t his fault that Adrien was completely unprepared to have his ass kicked.

They stopped by the grocery store before heading to the school that evening, Peter completely stocking up on snacks. Adrien just watched him with an bemused expression.

“I’m sure they’ll have food there,” he laughed as Peter grabbed a few cans of soup.

Peter snorted. “Small comfort.”

The cashier watched with amusement as Peter and Adrien tried to shove all the food into Peter’s backpack before giving up and asking for a plastic bag.

“Why’d you bring your laptop?” Adrien asked as he zipped up the backpack with no small amount of difficulty.

“That laptop has lots of sensitive information on it. I wasn’t just going to leave it at your house.” That was only partially true. Peter also had the same desktop projected onto the computers that the Agrestes had provided for him when he arrived. It was all password-protected and as difficult to crack as the entire Stark Industries security system. No nosy assistants would be getting into it. But it did have lots of sensitive information on it, like a backdoor to every security system in the world, as well as access to all of Iron Man’s satellites and technology. Which is why Peter thought the laptop would come in handy.

“You guys made it!” Alya greeted them as they reached the school. Everyone was already setting up in the library, excitedly chattering amongst themselves.

“Any word on the heist?” Peter whispered to her. Alya shook her head.

“I tried to worm it out of Mme. Bustier, but she wouldn’t tell me anything!”

“What are you guys talking about?” Adrien glanced between them.

“Orcas,” Peter said, at the same time Alya said, “Guns.”

“Guns?” Peter whipped his head around to look at her. “Why on earth would we be talking about guns?”

“Why would we be talking about orcas?” She countered.

“Let’s set up over here,” Adrien dragged Peter to a corner of the library, ignoring his two friends’ antics and pulling out his sleeping bag. It was folded flat, looking more like a folded t-shirt than a sleeping bag.

Peter pulled his own out, throwing it towards the ground. Just as he’d expected, it exploded outwards, expanding and filling with air to make the comfiest looking sleeping bags ever.

“Whoa!” Alya said as Adrien mimicked Peter’s actions, his own sleeping bag setting itself up. “How’d you get Stark Industries sleeping bags? These are literally like the Chanel boots of the camping world!”

“Me and Mr. Stark are hella tight,” Peter supplied, bouncing on his makeshift bed and opening a packet of Fuzzy Peaches. His body was a temple, and Peter only gave it the tastiest of snacks.

“Peter, those are disgusting.” Alya frowned at his candy choices. To spite her, Peter dumped the entire bag into his mouth at once, ignoring the way the sour candies stung and scraped up the inside of his mouth.

“Hey guys!” Marinette found their little nook, dragging her own sleeping bag behind her.

“Hrffgh Mrfrntt,” Peter said around the mouthful of gummies that was now cementing his jaw shut.

“What?” Marinette blinked at him, concerned.

“Peter’s just eaten about a hundred grams of candy all at once,” Adrien explained, annoyingly cohesive as Peter struggled to clear his mouth.

“And I lived to tell the tale!” Peter gasped, downing the water bottle he’d brought along. “This is a success story, be sure to tell everyone what you saw here today.”

“You’re an inspiration to us all,” Alya deadpanned.

“Everyone gather around!” Mme. Bustier called.

“Heist time!” Peter and Alya said in unison, exchanging a mischievous look. Peter was beyond ready.

“Heist time?” Marinette and Adrien were so confused, their poor, simple minds. Peter would’ve felt bad if he wasn’t so determined to win.

“Yes, and just like I beat you all in dodgeball, I’m going to be the champignon of this heist!”

“Peter, champion is the same in French.” Adrien rolled his eyes. “You just called yourself a mushroom.”

“And I meant it!” Peter said, slightly louder, as they joined the collective. “I mean everything I say.”

“Okay everyone!” Mme. Bustier clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “As some of you have heard, the main activity of tonight will be a heist! Somewhere in this school, a safe with a crown has been hidden. You will be placed in teams of three, your names drawn from a hat so that it’s entirely random. Whoever has the crown in their possession at ten pm will be the winner!”

Peter checked the time. It was almost six. Four hours was plenty of time to win, no matter who his team was. He could honestly work with anyone.

“Sucks that you can’t rig these teams,” Adrien whispered, his shoulder bumping against Peter’s.

“I could’ve if I’d had more warning,” Peter hissed back.

“Our first team!” Mme. Bustier said, grabbing a top hat that was filled with papers and fishing around in it. “Adrien Agreste!”

Adrien raised his hand. “Here!”

“This…isn’t attendance.” Peter glanced at his friend.

“Sorry, force of habit.”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” Mme. Bustier continued. “And Nino Lahiffe! You three are team number one!”

“Good luck mate,” Peter clapped Adrien on the back.

“Team two! Peter Parker, Alya Césaire-”

“Hell yeah!” Alya and Peter high-fived, Peter already mentally adjusting his plan to accommodate Alya’s strengths.

“- and Chloé Bourgeois.”

“What?” Peter said, all his plans crashing around him as he turned to face the snobby blond. She didn’t look too pleased about being paired up with him either, glaring at him from across the room as Mme. Bustier finished assigning the teams. He could not, in fact, work with anyone.

“You have ten minutes to strategize with your teams. The heist begins at six o’clock!” And with that Mme. Bustier exited the library.

“This is ridiculous!” Chloé complained as she joined them. “Utterly ridiculous!”

“Hey, we’re not too psyched about having you on our team either,” Alya snipped. “If you ruin this for us just because you’re too lame to have fun then I’ll-”

“Ruin it?” Chloé interrupted. “Lame? Do you know who my father is? My daddy is the mayor of-”

“Paris, yeah yeah we got it, sunshine.” It was Peter’s turn to interrupt. “I’m Iron Man’s apprentice though, so if we’re gonna ‘my horse is bigger than your horse’ this bitch, I’m gonna win every time. Chloé, can you please just actually participate? Who knows, you might even have fun. Plus Adrien seems to think you’re cool enough to be friends with, and I’d really like to meet the cool side of Chloé. The snobby side is eh, so so.” He tilted his hand in the air. “But boss bitch Chloé, she’s someone I could fuck with.”

“Do you just say words all the time?” Chloé rolled her eyes at him. “What does that even mean?”

“All speaking is just saying words all the time.” Peter folded his arms. “I’m just saying it would be cool if you participated.”

Chloé glared at him with intense eye contact and Peter stared back, determined not to be the first to look away. And he wasn’t. Within a few moments, Chloé sighed.

“Fine, but if you ruin my hair, Parker, I won’t hesitate to make your life miserable.”

“I’d really like to see you try.” Peter’s cheerful tone didn’t waver. “So now that we’re on the same page, as soon as we’re allowed to leave the library we’re headed to a little place I found. I’ll explain my master plan there.” As soon as Mme. Bustier opened the library door, Peter grabbed Alya and Chloé and ran to the boiler room.

It had creepy vibes, shrouded in shadows with a tall column in the middle and various devices lining the walls, but not much else. Like the rest of the school, all the lights were off.

“I don’t like it down here,” Alya whispered, like someone was listening.

“Neither does anyone else. That’s why it’s the perfect base.” Peter grinned at her.

“Ack!” Chloé jumped backwards into Peter and he caught her before they could both go crashing to the ground. “I think I saw something move!”

“Chloé, it’s your shadow.” The column in the middle emitted a blue light; the physical boiler, Peter assumed. It made all their shadows look mildly grotesque and definitely inhuman. Yep, it was the perfect hideout.

“What are we doing down here anyways?” Alya asked.

“I’m glad you asked,” Peter said, pulling out his laptop and accessing the school’s security cameras. “Live footage of the whole school. You’ll stay here and make sure no one intercepts me and Chloé. Chloé will be providing the distraction if needed while we grab the crown.”

“I have to stay here…alone?” Alya looked around the room, her usually brown skin appearing pale in the weak lighting.

“Girl, I’ve seen you chase down supervillains armed with nothing more than a camera. You’ll be fine.” Peter reached into his pocket, withdrawing three small earbuds. “Plus, we’ve got Stark technology. Communicators with unlimited range.”

“Why don’t we just use our phones?” Chloé asked, frowning at the earbud Peter handed her.

“Because phones are bulky, and we’re leaving our phones with Alya.”

“Leave my phone? With Césaire?” Chloé scrunched her nose up in distaste. “Why would I do that?”

“Look,” Peter said, opening a new window on his laptop. “I’ve marked everyone’s cellphones, creating a map of where everyone is, just in case there’s a blind spot on the security cams. And if I can do it, so could anyone else in this school. So to avoid being tracked, we’re leaving them with Alya.”

“You overestimate our collective intelligence,” Alya commented as she accepted Peter and Chloé’s phones. “And it’s a good plan. I just think you’re overlooking one thing.”

“What’s that?” Peter asked.

“We don’t know where the crown is.”

Peter blinked at her before realizing she was serious, then laughed. “Of course we do! It’s in M. Damocles’s office.”

“How do you know that?” Chloé said.

“Realistically, where else would it be? Obviously Monsieur Damocles likes to think that his office is the most secure place in the entire building, therefore that’s where we’ll find our crown.”

“Hmm.” Chloé almost sounded impressed. “But how are we going to get there without being seen?”

“That’s where my aerobic ability comes in handy,” Peter smirked as he put his communicator in. “I hope you’re flexible, Bourgeois.”

The duo emerged from the boiler room and Peter led Chloé into a nearby janitor’s closet.

“What are we doing in here?” Chloé asked, rather condescendingly.

“Ever seen Mission Impossible?” Peter could barely contain his excitement as he tapped his communicator. “How are things looking down there, Alya?”

“They’re good,” she said tentatively over the connection. “I can’t see you guys, though.”

“No cameras in the janitor’s closet, good to know,” Peter breathed. “Okay, Chloé and I are going up into the air vents.”

“We’re what?” Chloé whipped her head around to look at him, smacking him with her ponytail in the process.

“Yeah, like Mission Impossible, or Die Hard if that’s more your forte. Or even Toy Story; I have no idea what sort of movies you like to watch.”

“Like Alien,” Chloé mumbled.

“Yeah! Exactly like that!” Peter carefully plotted out the easiest route from the ground up to the air duct that was rather inconveniently placed near the ceiling. “Just give me one second to get the grate off.”

He backed up as much as possible in the small space, taking a running start up to the shelf closest to the vent. Scaling it nimbly, Peter found himself hanging from the grate itself, the shelf just slightly too short for him to stand on.

“Damn, if only I was a few inches taller,” he muttered under his breath. The closet was so tall Chloé couldn’t properly see him in the dark room, and Peter took advantage of that, sticking himself to the wall using his spidery powers.

“Okay Karen, gimme some heat,” he whispered, pressing his palm flat against the first screw. Spiderman’s gloved hand covered his own, the palm heating up and melting the screw. Peter quickly repeated the process with the other three, sliding the grate off and dropping it on top to the shelf.

“We’re good to go, Chloé! Come on up!”

“How?” She snipped from down below. “I can’t get up there!”

Peter sighed, rolling his eyes, and commanded his limbs to unstick from the wall, his Spiderman hand retracting back into his necklace as he backflipped off the wall. He landed nimbly beside Chloé, barely making a sound on impact, and gestured for him to climb onto his back.

Once she was secured, Peter repeated his previous climb to the vent, and dangled off the ledge. “Okay, now climb up my shoulders and into the vent.”

“What if I fall?”

“Then I’ll catch you, duh.” Peter gritted his teeth as Chloé began a rather intrusive climb from his back up to his shoulders, nearly snapping his neck as she clambered into the vent. Peter pulled himself in after her.

“We’re in the vents, Césaire,” Chloé said into her communicator. For once, her voice held no malicious undertones. Maybe she was actually having fun, Peter mused.

“Okay, Alya, can you describe how to get from the janitor’s closet on the first floor to the principal’s office?” Peter whispered. “The map should be under my files.”

He could hear her clicking, then Alya spoke. “Okay, go forwards and turn left at the first juncture.”

“Chloé,” Peter prodded her in the back. “Go.”

“Don’t poke me,” Chloé grumbled but started moving forwards. It was slow going with her, but finally they made their way overtop M. Damocles’s office.

“That’s it, right below you,” Alya said.

“Perfect,” Peter said, carefully unscrewing the grate with a shard of metal he’d found along the way. Ever so carefully, he let the grate drop slightly, the screws falling to the desk below, and Peter pulled the grate back up through the hole, placing it beside him.

“How are we going to get down?” Chloé asked, looking at the desk directly below them. “If we just jump, we’ll break the desk.”

“Climb back on.” As soon as she had returned to her previous spot on his back, Peter lowered himself out the vent, one hand holding Chloé on his back, the other holding onto the vent’s small ledge. “We’re gonna swing. Hold on tight, Chlo.”

“Are you insa- AHHH!” Chloé all but screamed as Peter, who’d been slightly swinging to gather momentum as she was speaking, launched himself through the air, gracefully flipping before landing right in front of the desk.

“What part of a secret heist do you not understand? We have to be quiet,” Peter hissed, setting her down so she could sit on the front of M. Damocles’s desk.

“Are you training for the Olympics or something?” Chloé shot back.

“I can see you guys now!” Alya’s voice spoke in Peter’s ear. “You might want to find that crown fast.”

“Yeah,” Peter muttered. If I were a principal who thought my office was a fortress, where would I hide the crown?

“Someone’s coming,” Alya yelped. “Act natural!”

“Quick, Chloé!” Peter spun around to Chloé, who grabbed his face and brought it to hers without a second thought, and apparently just in time, as the door opened almost immediately after.

“We heard someone scream!” Rose Lavillant’s perpetually cheerful tone said from the doorway as she opened the door. Then she saw what was apparently happening, the rest of whatever she was going to say dying in her throat.

Peter’s brain still hadn’t caught up as Chloé’s lips moved against his. His eyes were still wide open, staring down at her as she unapologetically kissed him.

“No! Juleka! They’re not…,” Peter heard Rose stutter behind him, then the door shut once again, leaving him and Chloé alone together once again. It was another few very long seconds before Chloé released him.

“Um,” Peter said, mouth still hanging open stupidly. “What was that?”

“Alya said to act natural.” Chloé winked at him.

Alya sputtered over the communicator, obviously at a loss for words.

“How about that crown, huh?” Chloé tossed her ponytail over her shoulder.

“Uh, yeah!” Peter shook his head to clear the previous moment’s events from his brain. His first kiss was apparently now Chloé Bourgeois. Great. “This bookshelf is a fake.” He tapped a bookshelf, clearing his throat.

“Okay? And?”

“I’m gonna lift it. There’s probably a safe beyond it.” He gripped the bottom of the bookshelf, lifting it up and moving it away from the wall. It didn’t feel like a fake bookshelf. They were usually lighter.

“You idiot, it was a sliding shelf,” Chloé pointed out. Peter had lifted the bookshelf right off its tracks. “Kinda impressive though.”

Just as Peter had suspected, there was a safe sitting there, just waiting for him to crack it open. He popped his knuckles, kneeling down so he was eye-level with the safe.

“Okay sunshine, let’s get this crown.”