Painted Lady Chapter 7
A big thanks to @writtenbyrain for beta-ing this chapter!
Read on AO3 here
April 30th, 20XX
The rain was falling in a steady drizzle when Alya returned from her study group, her hair frizzy and her tan trench coat slick with rain. “I’ve got good news and bad news,” she announced, leaving her boots by the door. “Which do you want first?”
Her flatmates were all in the living room, safe from the downpour that had started on her way home. Marinette was curled up on the couch with her feet in Adrien’s lap as she watched something on Netflix, Adrien was busy staring intensely at one of his textbooks with copious highlights across the pages, and Nino was fine-tuning his latest playlist in the armchair, but they all turned their attention to Alya.
“The good news,” Adrien decided, pushing his glasses back.
“Well, the good news is I found out what Lucas’s article is about,” Alya said. “The bad news is, well — this.” She unfurled a mockup newspaper from her bag, the headline in bold print: Ladybug Exposed: Hero Turned Villain.
Alya could hear Marinette suck in a breath while Adrien let out an angry hiss beside her. Nino was shaking his head. “How does he plan to sell that one?” he demanded.
“From what Lucas told me, he hasn’t been able to get it published yet. Unfortunately, he’s a good writer and he’s got a source he talks about throughout the paper. After reading it, I’m pretty sure it’s Lila, which means we have to be extra cautious.”
“Going against this could be falling right into her trap.” Marinette chewed at her lip, considering.
“I don’t suppose you could get him to let you meet this source one on one?” Nino asked.
“Probably not.” Alya shook her head. “He’s pretty protective since his source is ‘scared’ of Ladybug. Says he doesn’t even know her real name, just her pseudonym, Birdie.”
“Is that supposed to be a pun?” Adrien frowned.
“Or it could be a reference to the fact that some birds eat ladybugs.” Alya shrugged. “I doubt there’s anything deeper. Maybe if we tail Lucas around for a while we can spot when they meet — although it could be over the phone. He never said exactly how they got in contact.”
“Maybe we can get one of the kwamis to do it,” Marinette suggested.
“I’ll see if Trixx is willing, since I’m going to be around him anyway.”
“We’re still not caught up on sleep and she’s trying to claim Ladybug created Painted Lady for fun ?” Adrien scoffed at the mockup.
“To be fair, the sleep thing is probably also because we’re university students,” Marinette said. “That sounds right up Lila’s ally anyway: flipping who the heroes and villains are.”
“My father, too,” Adrien said, a sudden sickening thought occurring. “What if they’re working together? He could tell Lila our identities!”
Alya pinched her lips together. That was a worrying thought. Gabriel definitely knew Adrien’s identity, and it was safe to assume he’d put together Ladybug’s as well. It wouldn’t be too much of a leap to figure out the rest from there, and even with just Ladybug and Chat Noir’s identities out — it was just too risky. Too many possibilities opened up.
“We can check the visitor logs from the last four years,” Alya said. “I can’t imagine he’d be too popular so any official visits should stand out.”
“Good idea,” Marinette said. “And I’ll ask Master Fu about some kind of spell we can use. The kwamis can’t reveal the identities of other wielders, so maybe there’s a way to transfer that to people as well.”
Adrien flopped back on the couch with a groan. “Why can’t I just get one day without him popping in out of nowhere?”
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Fifteen years ago
Adrien sat in a chair that was much too big for him as he pushed the peas on his plate around until they resembled a frown. His mother had a last-minute call for work and he hadn’t seen his father since breakfast when he came to give Emilie a kiss and briefly ruffle Adrien’s hair as he grabbed a pastry. Nathalie had been the one to call him to dinner, insisting his father would be along in a minute. Adrien knew by now “in a minute" really meant that, in an hour or two, his father might come down to grab a cold plate of food before once again returning to his office.
Adrien grinned, the gap of his recently lost tooth visible as the best idea in the entire world came to him. If his father was too busy to come eat dinner, Adrien could bring dinner to his father! He quickly loaded a plate full of the things he knew his father liked and ran off towards his office, a few peas rolling off along the way.
“Papa! I brought you dinner!” he said, grinning as he practically sprinted into the office.
“Adrien, how many times have I told you not to interrupt me during my work?” Gabriel sighed, rubbing his temples as he put down the phone.
Adrien immediately shrank back. “Sorry, father. I just wanted to bring you dinner before it got cold.”
His father gave him a brief smile. “Very well, you may leave it on my desk, but I expect you to clean up the mess as you head out.”
“Yes, father,” Adrien said, leaving the plate carefully on the desk before collecting all the peas that had spilled in his excitement.
Once he finished up his dinner, Adrien practiced piano until it was time for bed. He tried to be as slow as possible when brushing his teeth and putting on his pajamas, but his mother still wasn’t home by the time Nathalie told him it was time to go to bed.
He’d tried to get her to read a bedtime story — his favorite one about the ducklings, like his mother had promised — but Nathalie had simply said, “Goodnight, Adrien,” before turning out the lights and leaving.
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https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580646/chapters/68760165
