#callmecirce writes

[youcancallmecirce]

Haste & Leisure Chapter 8: Have a Ball

Marinette, Bridgette, and Max attend the big party at the Agreste house--my version of the Netherfield Ball-- and some shit goes down.

Read it on AO3

Felix was hiding.

Well, not hiding, exactly.  It might be his house, but this was not his party and he didn’t have to participate if he didn’t want to.  Right now? He didn’t want to. It was even more of a crush than that first mixer they wet to at the University, right after arriving in Paris.  He’d expected it, of course. Adrien had turned Felix’s house into an exclusive club for the night, and when was the last time that the famous Agreste Manor had played host to such a public event?

Never, that was when.  

The hub of the party was the ballroom.  The DJ was ensconced there. Much of that large room was intended for dancing, naturally, but plush couches arranged in attractive groupings provided plenty of seating. At the back of the ballroom, three large double doors opened out onto a large veranda strung with cafe lights and scattered with more seating.  It was a gorgeous evening; much of the party had spilled out of doors.  

For refreshments, the long table in the dining hall had been shifted to one side and turned into a buffet with wait staff ranged behind it, serving food and replacing emptied trays of hors d'oeuvres.

Hors d'oeuvres , Felix thought with a snicker, swirling the large ball of ice around in his whiskey.  Both Gabriel Agreste and Audrey Bourgeois would probably have fits when they found out that they’d funded a glorified American style frat party.

Where his father might have served avocado bruschetta, chilled antipasto skewers and shrimp canapés, Adrien had decided on a much more, ah--contemporary menu.  There were still the overdone edible arrangements and silly little puff pastries filled with quiche, but they were vastly outnumbered by sliders, pizza, potato wedges, chicken wings and spinach dip.  A second, more modest buffet in the ballroom offered more of the same. Tables and chairs had been set up in both rooms to provide guests with a place to sit and eat.  

Wet bars placed strategically in the ballroom, dining hall, and veranda would keep anyone from getting thirsty. It was all open bar, but all of the bartenders had been given strict instructions to cut off anyone they suspected of being overly intoxicated in the hopes that it might keep the event from devolving into drunken chaos.  

Since that was unlikely to be effective, additional security had been brought in and discreetly stationed throughout the house and grounds.  Not only could the drunkenness get out of hand, this sort of event was the perfect opportunity for clever thieves or, more likely, the rabid paparazzi to get into the house and cause mischief.

Yeah, no thanks .

And then there was Chloe’s VIP room.  She had taken over a formal living room and turned it into a true VIP lounge complete with yet another wet bar, more of the plush seating, another dance floor and its own separate DJ.  Admittance to that lounge was strictly controlled; two bouncers stood at each of the two doorways, carefully screening those attempting to get in. Anyone who was not on her all-important list, or with someone who was on the list, wasn’t getting in there.

Chloe herself was ensconced in the middle of it all, surrounded by celebrities and socialites and completely in her element, while Adrien floated through the various rooms, interacting with his guests like a perfect host while he waited for unwitting guest of honor to show up.  Felix was happy to leave her to her throne and him to his mingling. There were only a few people in attendance that he actually cared to see, and all of them were as happily engaged in the party as Adrien. Felix had retreated to his library shortly after the doors had been opened to guests, and he had little intention of returning to the party.

He had just refilled his glass--damn, but he loved that Vintage Reserve from Jameson--when Adrien knocked on the open door, looking troubled.  Felix raised his brows in enquiry.

“The girls are here,” he said.  “They brought Barbot.”

Fuck .  Felix set his glass down with a thunk, then cursed aloud when some of the expensive whiskey splashed onto his hand.  

“Should I make him leave?” Adrien asked.  “I certainly don’t want himi here, but it is a University event.  I figured I’d let you make the call.”

“I’ll do it,” Felix said.  

“No, you stay here, Fe.  I’ll--”

“He’s my problem, not yours,” Felix snapped.  Then he sighed. “I appreciate the offer, Adrien, but I’ll handle it.  Thank you for letting me know.”

Adrien frowned at him, but nodded.  “I asked them to wait for me in the small office just off the foyer.”

The two men were silent as they made their way downstairs.  Felix could hear the bass thump coming from the ballroom, and the rumble of a hundred different conversations, but he hardly noticed.  He was preoccupied by the knowledge that Marinette had chosen to bring Barbot.

Had she brought him as a date?  Or had they come as a group? He shouldn’t care.  What she did was nothing to him. If she wanted to waste her time with a scheming low life, that was on her.

“Bridgette?” Adrien said, and Felix looked up from his brooding to see Marinette standing at the foot of the stairs.  He stopped and stared.

She wore a scarlet red dolman top that draped enticingly over her slim figure, hinting at her form rather than exposing it.  The loose top had a wide neckline that had slipped off of one shoulder. She’d paired it with sleek black leggings and screaming red heeled sandals.  He dragged his eyes back up her body. Her full red lips were pressed into a thin, angry line and her eyes--kohl-lined and narrowed to slits--were fixed on him.

“Where did he go?” Adrien asked, already at the bottom of the stairs.  Felix blinked and snapped his mouth shut as he realized that the two Dupain-Cheng girls stood with a young black man that Felix didn’t recognize, but not Barbot.  He scanned the others milling around the foyer, but he didn’t see Barbot’s tall form among them anywhere. He continued down the stairs.

“ Théo left,” Marinette said acidly, her blue eyes still locked on his. “So you’ll not have the pleasure of throwing him out, Felix.  He said that he wouldn’t stay where he clearly wasn’t welcome.”

“Marinette,” Felix said cooly as he descended the last few steps, ignoring her words. And her lack of a bra. “Bridgette,” he added with more warmth.

“Um, hello, Felix,” Bridgette said, smiling weakly.  She was obviously uncomfortable with the hostility between them and trying to diffuse it.  She gestured to the young man standing with them. “Have you met our cousin, Max?”

“No, I have not.”  Felix held out his hand, trying to ignore his flare of relief.  The man was handsome, with strong features and intelligent dark eyes, but he was her cousin.  “Felix Agreste,” he said.

“Max Kante,” the young man replied, and shook his hand enthusiastically.  “I must compliment you. This house is nearly as spectacular as the manor house at Rosings.”

Felix and Adrien both stared blankly. “Rosings?”  Adrien repeated.

“Rosings Park is the former estate of the illustrious De Bourgh family, which has now been given over to higher education.” Max explained pompously.  “I myself just transferred from De Bourgh University for the semester--”

“Of course,” Felix interrupted smoothly.  He needn’t have worried; the man was a prig.  “I’m acquainted with the Arts Dean there, though I have not had the opportunity to visit personally.”

Max brightened and opened his mouth to go on, but Bridgette cut in before he could speak.  “Adrien, did I really see pizza on the buffet in the dining room?” she asked.  

“You did!” he answered.  “Are you hungry? You should try some even if you’re not.  I decided to go with an American-inspired menu tonight, and it’s delicious.”

“American foods?” Max asked.  “I have little experience with American style cuisine, as mother feels it is inferior.”

Adrien smiled and gestured towards the dining hall.  “Here’s your chance. Have you ever tried hot wings? There are a ton of different sauces to try, and...”

Adrien’s voice was quickly lost to the general noise of the party as he led all three of them toward the buffet.  Marinette had hesitated long enough to cast another glare in his direction then followed, her back ramrod straight and fists clenched.

When the crowd closed around her, Felix turned back to the stairs with a muttered expletive.

He was so screwed.

Marinette followed a few steps behind the others, somehow feeling simultaneously furious with and attracted to Felix Agreste.  How dare he be so brain-numbingly, heart meltingly handsome? Why couldn’t he be as ugly on the outside as he clearly was on the inside?  

She wanted to look back, to see if he still watched her, but resisted.  

She knew he was watching her.  She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away, but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of turning around to look. It had nothing to do with the fact that she wanted to look back at him--and wanted to find him watching her.  

Nope.  Absolutely not.

It didn’t matter that his eyes had glittered like blue fire, or that his unexpectedly informal attire would look so damned sexy.  What the hell was that about, anyway? She’d never seen him less than perfectly turned out, shirt ruthlessly buttoned to his throat and tie knotted with military precision.  Even over the weekend that she and Bridgette had spent here, he’d never relaxed enough to take off his tie or toe off his shoes. But tonight? Tonight he wore his black button-down untucked and open at the throat, his sleeves cuffed and rolled to his elbows, his hair mussed, eyes bright and his fair skin flushed.

He looked like he’d just left someone’s bed, damnit.  What was that about? Had he just--

Marinette clamped down on the thought.  Nope, not going there. She reminded herself that he had come down here, unprovoked, to make Theo leave as if Felix were the injured party in this situation. He was an ass, and the less she had to do with him the better.

And Theo?  He’d bowed out without even trying to stand up to Felix!  He’d been the only thing she’d been looking forward to at this party.  Now she’d be entertaining Max on his quest for social exposure while Bridgette spent the evening with Adrien.

She couldn’t blame them.  She half suspected that Bridgette was the whole reason for this whole event, and who was she to derail her sister’s evening?  No one, that was who. Besides, Alya and Nino were around here somewhere. Perhaps they could help her teach Max how to dance.

She found them twenty minutes later, availing themselves of the open bar in the ballroom.  She pushed in next to Alya, smiling apologetically at the other people crowded nearby and tugging Max behind her.  

“Have you ordered yet?” she asked, after greeting her friends with a hug.

“Nope,” Alya answered.  “What do you want? I’ll order for all of us.”

“What’s on tap?”

“Mostly American beers,” Nino answered.  “Yuengling, Blue Moon, Budweiser and a few others I don’t recognize, but they have Guinness and Castelaine too.”

“A Blue Moon and a Yuengling, then, I think.”

“But Marinette,” Max began, but was interrupted.

“Two?” Alya blinked, and her eyes flicked to look behind Marinette.  “Who else--wait, is that Max?”

Max smiled stiffly.  “Good evening,” he said.

“Daaamn,” Alya breathed, and Nino whistled.  “That’s quite the change, Max.”

He tugged uncomfortably at his pink henley, not meeting anyone’s eyes.  “Marinette said that this ensemble is both contemporary, and appropriate to this gathering.”

“It is,” Alya assured him.  “That color looks absolutely fantastic with your skin tone, and the cut of that shirt suits you well.”  She grinned suddenly, and leaned back into Nino. “You’ve been holding out on us, Kante. Since when do you work out?”

Max blushed, and Nino rolled his eyes.  “Easy Al,” he muttered. “You’re gonna give the guy a heart attack.”

Marinette giggled, but rubbed a soothing hand on Max’s back.

“Yoga and tai chi are both a part of my daily meditations,” he said haltingly.  “I--it would be remiss to take care with my mind and spirit but to ignore my body.”

“Well, you’ve obviously not been remiss,” Alya said.  “Keep it up.”

Max blushed again, and spluttered.

“What do you think?” Nino asked after darting a disapproving look at Alya.  “Do you like your new look?”

Max gratefully shifted his attention to Nino. “I don’t know,” he said slowly.  “The clothes themselves are surprisingly comfortable, but it is strange to be dressed so informally in public.”

“I think you’ll end up liking it a lot,” Marinette said, “once you get used to it, and find your style.”

The bartender got to them then, and Nino placed drink orders for all four of them.  They shifted away from the bar and made their way towards one of the lounge areas set up around the room when they had their drinks.

Max eyed his dubiously.  “I have never had beer,” he said.  “Mother says--”

“You are not your mother,” Marinette said gently.  “This is about discovering you, remember? Try it, and mine too if you want, and if you don’t like it then we’ll go back and get you a soda or something.”

“You can try mine too,” said Alya.  “I got the Guinness.”

“And I got the Castelaine,” Nino added.  “You can have whichever one you like best, dude.”  

Max smiled at them, and Marinette was happy to note that his smile seemed less brittle, and more genuine.  “What did you say this is?” he asked her, sniffing his beer.

“That’s the Blue Moon.  It’s a wheat beer, so it’s kind of dense but it has a good flavor and isn’t at all bitter.  I thought it might be a good place to start.”

“Hmm.”  He lifted the glass to his lips and took an experimental sip, his expression thoughtful.  Then he took another sip, and this time rolled the liquid around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing.  “Hmm,” he said again.

“Well?  Do you like it?” Marinette asked.  

“tryIt is--interesting.”  He raised the glass again, and took a larger drink.  

“Here, try the Yuengling.  It’s a lager, and another one that’s pretty mild in flavor.”

Max tried all four beers, but ultimately stuck with his original Blue Moon.  He seemed pretty ambivalent about both the lager and the blonde, but definitely did not like the stout.  “It’s far too bitter,” he said as he passed the glass back to Alya, his face twisted.

Alya laughed.  “It’s not for everyone,” she said.

“Guiness isn’t so bad,” Nino said, shrugging.  

“It’s better than those IPAs you love so much,” Marinette tossed back. “Blegh!”

Max took another drink of his own beer, and his expression eased.  “I will stick with this one,” he said firmly. “But thank you, for letting me try the others.”

Marinette smiled and lifted her glass.  “ Santé , my friends.”  They clinked their glasses together, and she wiggled her eyebrows playfully.  “Drink up, Max. I think it’s time we teach you how to dance.”

Max choked and nearly spat his drink in their faces.  “Me? Dance?”

Even Alya and Nino looked surprised.

“Why not?” she countered. “I mean, no one’s going to twist your arm or anything, but I think you should give it a try.”

“Dancing is way more fun than sitting on the side watching everyone else, that’s for sure.” Nino said.

“Actually, Nino, I rather enjoy people watching,” Max said stiffly.  “I also happen to love dancing, but I do not believe that the DJ will be playing any tangos this evening.”

Now all three of them looked at him in surprise.  “You can tango?”

“I have studied ballroom dancing since I was twelve,” he said, his tone defensive.

“That’s right!” Marinette’s eyes widened and she tapped the heel of her hand against the side of her head.  “I remember now! Maman has mentioned that you dance competitively. You’ll have no problem picking this up!”

It took a bit of gentle coaxing and his stiffness had returned, but Max had agreed to it by the time they’d finished their drinks.  He let Marinette lead him to a slightly less crowded area of the dancefloor, then looked uncertainly between the three friends as they started to move.

“Just watch us,” Nino said.  “Move to the beat. We’ll start small, but I have a feeling that you’ll pick it up pretty fast.”

His movements were awkward when he first started imitating Nino’s simple steps.  “Why can’t we just waltz?” he muttered, and Marinette laughed. He scowled. “I’m quite good at waltzing,” he said.

“I definitely am not,” she answered.  “Maybe later, you can teach us to waltz?”

He flashed her a smile, but his attention remained focused on watching other dancers.  “Perhaps.”

Nino was right.  It wasn’t long at all before Max relaxed into the music.  He had an excellent sense of rhythm and was clearly well-coordinated, just a bit self conscious.  So long as he wasn’t thinking too hard about what he was doing, his movements were fluid.  

He relaxed further when Bridgette and Adrien joined them, expanding their little group and offering more opportunities to take Max out of his own head.  They danced in an ever-shifting group, and their evening proceeded quite enjoyably.  They'd dance until they got thirsty, take a break for drinks and a bit of fresh air on the veranda, then go back to dancing.  Marinette had forgotten all about Felix and Theo both, until Alya moved from where she'd been dancing with Max and made her way over to Marinette so that she could lean in and speak into her ear.

“Felix just walked in,” she said.

Marinette missed a beat.  “And?”

“And I’m not sure what you’ve done now, but I think he was looking for you.  He stopped right over there and is now trying to murder you with his eyes.”

Marinette turned and sure enough, he stood just beyond the dancefloor, his expression cold and hard. “Come here,” he said, and while she couldn’t hear him over the music, he made his meaning clear by pointing to the ground at his feet as if she were a naughty child being summoned for punishment.

Her mouth fell open and she stopped dancing.

“He must have a death wish,” Alya said flatly.  “Are you gonna kill him, or can I?”

Marinette held a staying hand up in front of Alya and placed the other on her cocked hip.  “Why should I?” she shot back, knowing that he’d read her lips as well as she’d read his.

His eyes narrowed, and he curled his still-pointing finger into his fist as he raised it to his shoulder.  “Fine then.” He lowered his fist and strode forward, cutting rudely through the dancers. Most moved out of his way; the few who thought to protest took one look at his hard face and ticking jaw and changed their minds.  He didn’t stop until he stood right in front of her. “I’ll just come to you,” he growled. “I’d prefer to have this conversation behind closed doors, but I don’t suppose you care whether we make a scene, do you?”

Marinette crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “What?”

“Did he promise you a cut?” he demanded harshly.

“What?”  Marinette reared back from him and dropped her arms from her chest, wondering if maybe he’d gone insane.  “What the fuck are you talking about, Felix?”

She could see that her reaction had startled him, but he didn’t say anything.  She scoffed. “You’re the one making a scene. I’m just here to enjoy the party with my friends.”  Marinette turned her back on him and started dancing again, determined to ignore him.

She didn’t expect him to step in close behind her, his hands warm on her hips as he began to dance with her.  She froze in surprise, but his hands urged her to keep moving. “Is this better?” he asked, his voice low.

“No,” she said.  In front of her, Alya and Bridgette both gaped at her.  Adrien stared hard at Felix. Alya raised her brows, and Marinette subtly shook her head in answer.  No rescue needed. The others slowly went back to dancing, but Marinette noted that they all stayed close. Satisfied that they had her back, she turned to dance with him face to face and draped her arms over his shoulders.  He was a good dancer, but she filed that surprise away to be considered later. (The feeling of his hands on her hips and his body brushing hers was to be considered never .)  “What is going on, Felix?”

He ignored her question.  “What do you know about Barbot?”

“I know that he’s been unlucky enough to lose your friendship,” she said sarcastically.

His jaw flexed.  “Why did you bring him here tonight?”

“As my date,” she said, staring at him.  Maybe he really had gone insane? She couldn’t imagine any other explanation for the last five minutes.  Then she added, “Not that it’s any of your business.”

He shifted closer to her as they danced, and his fingers tightened on her hips.  “It’s my house, Marinette,” he growled into her ear.  

She moved her hands down to his chest, thinking to push him away and regain some of her personal space, but the tension between them had shifted and her fingers instead curled around the open collar of his shirt, pulling the fabric taut and widening the vee at his throat.  Damn, but he smelled good. “What happened to your tie?” she asked, and had no idea where the question had come from.

He slid one hand up her side, and knew the exact moment he realized--or perhaps remembered--she wasn’t wearing a bra. “I took it off,” he said gruffly.  His hand slid back down and he straightened a bit, so that he was looking down at her.

“I’ve never seen you without one.”

“I didn’t intend to participate this evening.”

She flicked her gaze up to him, then back down to the thin sheen of sweat at his throat. “What changed?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Agreste?” A new voice said from very close, and they both froze.

Felix sighed and dropped his hands from Marinette. “Yes, Nathalie?” he asked, his voice tight and his eyes still on her.

Marinette looked from him to the sharply dressed woman standing close to his shoulder.

“I am sorry to interrupt, but there is an issue which requires your attention.”

His lips thinned.  “Very well.” He nodded once at Marinette, then turned and stalked from the ballroom.

[youcancallmecirce]

Haste & Leisure Chapter 7: Back to School

The fall semester gets underway, our heroes blow off some steam, and Max makes a change.

Thank you so much to @cheshiremadd for your help in working out the rest of the story line! 

Read this chapter on AO3  Read from the beginning on AO3

“I’m glad to see that you survived your first week of classes,” Marinette said as she joined Theo at the bar.  

Theo brightened, pausing with his beer halfway to his lips.  “Marinette!  You made it!”  

“Yup!  That assignment wasn’t as difficult as I’d expected.”  When Theo had mentioned meeting up at the Forester Club that night, Marinette hadn’t been sure she’d be able to go.  Her Art and Spirituality professor had hit the ground running, Day One.  She flagged down the bartender and ordered a drink, then turned back to Theo. “How are your classes going so far?”

He winced, and set his drink back on the bar.  “You were pretty spot on about the teachers.  Especially Mendeliev.”

“Yeah, the rumors about her are pretty consistent.”  Marinette grimaced sympathetically.  “I’m not looking forward to my turn in her class.”

“She’s brutal.” He shuddered theatrically, then nudged Marinette’s arm with his elbow.  “How about you?”  

“Great!”  The bartender returned with her drink; she accepted it and paid with a murmured thanks.  “I think I’m really going to enjoy this semester, even if I am going to have to work my butt off to get through it.”

Theo cocked his head.  “You like a challenge, then?” At her nod, a roguish smile curled one corner of his mouth.  “So maybe I shouldn’t be making things so easy for you?”

Marinette laughed.  “You think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

“I think a lot of you,” he said.  He’d leaned in toward her, how voice low and warm and his eyes sparking.  “Is it working?”

She pushed him back with a finger on his nose.  “Alright Casanova, I haven’t had enough alcohol for bad pick up lines.  Let’s finish our drinks, and then you can show me whether you can dance as well as you say you can.”

“Yes ma’am,” he drawled in English, making her laugh again.  

They chatted for several more minutes as they each finished their drinks, then she took him by the hand and led him to where Alya and Nino were dancing nearby. 

As they moved through the dancers, she threw a glance at her sister, who was dancing happily with Adrien on the other side of the club, and smiled.  Behind them, Felix stood with the Bourgeois girls, staring moodily out at the dance floor.  Then his eyes suddenly locked with hers and she resisted the impulse to look away.  Instead, she raised an eyebrow and smiled in challenge.  Felix’s scowl deeped and she allowed her smile to widen.

Theo followed her gaze and frowned. “It’s too bad that you and your sister have been forced to part ways for the evening,” he said, leaning forward to speak close to her ear.  “I hate to think that Felix’s beef with me might come between you.”

Marinette stopped walking to turn and frown at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Doesn’t it bother you that you can’t hang out with your sister, because of this feud?”

Marinette shook her head.  “We hang out all the time, but we’re not joined at the hip.  This isn’t the first time that we’ve had friends who didn’t get along, and it won’t be the last.”  She shrugged.  “I’m just sorry that his presence might make things harder for you.”

He smiled.  “Don’t worry about me.  It’s not for me to be put off by him.”

She smiled back, and they went back to wading through the crowd.

“Took you long enough!” Alya said when they got close enough, shouting to be heard over the music.

“Hush,” Marinette shouted back, falling into the rhythm of the music.  “Not all of us have such easy classes this semester.”

Alya scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because not all of us are insane.”

Theo chuckled as he moved in behind her, his hands on her hips, and proceeded to demonstrate that he was, indeed, just as good a dancer as he’d said.  They moved together in perfect sync.  Marinette felt herself relaxing.  She tipped her head back to speak into his ear, so that he would hear her over the throbbing music.  “I’m glad you suggested this,” she said.  “I hadn’t realized that I needed a break so badly until just now.”

“Of course,” he answered.  “You spent all week either buried in books, or slaving at your parents’ bakery.  “I’m glad you came out.”  She hummed her agreement and for a long time, no one said anything.  The four of them shifted as they danced, sometimes moving in a group and sometimes dancing in pairs.

When Alya tilted her head towards the bar sometime later, then began moving in that direction, Marinette and the guys followed.  She was surprised to discover that more than an hour had passed while they danced.  

“Are you going to the Agreste party next weekend?” Alya asked while they waited for their drinks.

“You think Bri would let me skip it?” Marinette said, smiling wryly.  “You guys are going right?”

Both Nino and Alya nodded, but Theo frowned.  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go.  I doubt I’m invited.”

“But it’s a university sponsored event, dude.  Everyone is invited.”

Theo shook his head at Nino as the bartender returned with four draft beers.   “Felix hates me, which means that Adrien and his sisters do, too.  They won’t let me through the door.” He pushed his credit card across the bar, and waved the others away when they tried to pay for their own.  “I got this round,” he said.  “I want to thank you guys for making me feel so welcome here.”

 “No worries, man.” Nino clapped him on the back with a grin.  “Just let one of us get the next round, alright?”

“I think you should go, Theo,” Marinette said decisively.  “It is an open event for students, and you are a student.  Besides,” she added a bit wickedly, they won’t dare make you leave if you’re there as my date.”

Theo lowered his drink, staring at her.  “You’d stick your neck out for me?  Even knowing what Felix is capable of?”

Alya chuckled.  “Clearly, you don’t know Marinette very well yet.”

Theo grinned at her.  “I think I’m starting to,” he said.  Then he lifted his glass.  “To Marinette!” he said.  “Santé!”

Felix watched as Marinette began dancing with Theo, feeling something acidic roil in his gut.  Her arch smile had cut him from clear across the room and now, the sight of her head leaning back on his shoulder, laughing at something he said as they moved together had his hands curling into fists.  

He wanted to pull her away from that deceitful bastard, to shake her and tell her what a fool she was, to kiss her senseless.

Then he wanted to punch Theo right in lying mouth.

“Still admiring her ‘fine eyes’, Felix?  Or has her abominable taste finally shown you what trash she is?”

Felix glanced from Chloe’s smug face to Sabrina’s, then turned his back on the dancing crowd and the woman who’d just put him in his place without saying a word. He ground his teeth.  “Her lack of judgement is irrelevant,” he said.  Apparently he had a masochistic streak, because he found himself adding, “it makes her no less beautiful.”  He muttered it into his glass, the words meant for no one else, but both of the girls heard him.

Sabrina snickered, and Chloe’s smug expression wilted and turned sulky. 

Sabrina, who was already halfway drunk, rolled her eyes at him.  “Would you just fuck her already, and get her out of your system?”

“Sabrina!” Chloe gasped.  “He would never!”

He felt his cheeks heat, but he ignored them both.  That barb was entirely too close to the mark.

Instead he watched Adrien’s conversation with Bridgette.  The music was far too loud to hear what they were saying to one another, but it was a perfect opportunity to observe them.  Adrien was clearly smitten; even if he hadn’t said as much, Felix could tell just by looking at the man.  Bright eyes, flushed cheeks, leaning toward her ever so slightly, as if he wanted to be closer but didn’t want to invade her space.  Yeah, Adrien was a goner.

But the girl?  She was much harder to read.  She liked Adrien, at least, but Felix didn’t think that her feelings were engaged.  Her expression was far too composed, her behaviour around Adrien far too controlled.  They were so different, their backgrounds markedly so; nothing less than love would keep them together.  Even then, he doubted Bridgette DuPain-Cheng could possibly stand up to the cruel, haughty Audrey Bourgeois.

Felix shuddered.  He had never been at odds with Adrien’s mother, and hoped he never would be.  The woman was a dragon.

“Felix?” An arm slipped through his, but he didn’t notice.  “Are you alright?”

If he was right about Bridgette, Adrien was going to end up getting hurt.  Badly.

The hand on his arm jerked him around so that he was no longer facing Adrien.  “Felix!” 

“What!” he snapped at last, glaring at Chloe.

She glared back, and flipped her smooth blond hair over her bare shoulder.  “You know we can’t let them get too close.”

He blinked.  That was not at all what he’d expected, and uncomfortably close to what he’d been thinking.

She rolled her eyes.  “You know it’ll never work.  He’s the Bourgeois heir, and she’s a bakery girl.  He’s wealthy and cultured and well traveled, and she thinks that visiting Marseilles is an adventure.  It’s ridiculous.  What could they possibly have in common?”

It sounded so snobby, put that way, but Felix still had to agree.  “Maybe it would be better if they didn’t spend so much time together,” he allowed.

“Exactly!” Her smug expression had returned.  “Though if that’s what you think, then I don’t understand why you agreed to host that ridiculous party next weekend.”  

“Neither do I,” he admitted wryly.  “But it’s too late now.”

Chloe sniffed.  “Well at least you recognize your folly,” she said primly.

“Don’t act like you’re not taking full advantage, Chlo,” Sabrina said, slurring the words a bit.  She had a fresh drink in her hand, and Felix realized she must have gone to the bar to get it.

“I do seem to recall organizing a VIP room for you and your entourage,” Felix said, brow raised.  “And don’t think I haven’t noticed that Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and XY have all announced their intentions of attending.”

Chloe certainly looked pleased with herself, and Sabrina giggled.  “To hear her talk,” she said to Felix, “you’d think it was her party!  Didn’t you tell what’s-his-name that you’re co-hosting with Felix?”

“That’s enough, Sabrina!” Chloe snapped, plucking the glass out of Sabrina’s hand.  “Clearly, you have had too much to drink, if you’re spouting nonsense like that.”  

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “What have you done, Chloe?”

“Nothing!  I only invited a few more people to the party, as you already knew.”

“Chloe--”

“This place sucks, and we’re leaving.” She tossed her hair again as she dragged Sabrina behind her.  “Honestly, I don’t know why we came back here to begin with.”

Felix shook his head.  He had a feeling that Nathalie would soon be putting down a new round of rumors about a liaison between the Agreste and Bourgeois families.  

If he didn’t strangle Chloe, he suspected that Nathalie would.

Saturday, at last.  

After another grueling week of classes, closing the bakery on Friday and opening it again that morning, Marinette was exhausted.  What she really wanted was a night in, but she’d not get that until tomorrow. 

Tomorrow would be a much needed Do Nothing Day.  Her homework was done, her back to back shifts with Bridgette had netted them three straight days off at the bakery, and after tonight’s party she had no social commitments. She didn’t have any intention of changing out of her pajamas, much less leaving the house.  

First things first, though: the party.

Marinette sat across from Bridgette at their tiled dining table, their makeup spread between them.  They were nearly finished with it when Max came out of the guest room looking stiff and awkward in a striped sweater vest over a starched while dress shirt and pleated khaki pants.  The girls shared a brief look.  His attire might have been perfect for leading a church youth group meeting, but for an upscale, all out college party?  Not so much.

“This gathering tonight,” Max began, trying and failing to sound nonchalant, “will it be like the other university functions we’ve attended?”

Bridgette paused in applying her eyeliner and shrugged.  “Yeah, for the most part.”

“There’s probably going to be a bit more drinking and general debauchery at this one than the others,” Marinette added.  “Since it’s being held at a private venue, and is only nominally associated with the university. Why?”

“Ah.”  Max shifted uncomfortably, his blush clear even on his warm cocoa skin.  “That is, yes.  That is good.”

Bridgette smiled sympathetically. “You know, Max, you don’t have to go with us if you don’t want to.”

He straightened his spine and finally met their eyes.  “Nonsense,” he said firmly.  “While such a party will be in no way edifying, I believe that mother would want me to go.  She is convinced that a thorough social education is as important to my success as clergyman as my theological studies.  How else am I to relate to my future flock?”

Bridgette blinked.  “Ah--right.  That is why she sent you to us, isn’t it?”

Marinette, who had been struggling not to laugh, thought that perhaps Aunt Catherine should have begun that education well before now. Still, she supposed, it was better late than never.   Her sister’s comment had a light bulb going off in her brain, though, and she sobered.  

“Max,” she began carefully, “do you think you’ve made any progress on that front?”

He stiffened.  “Progress?”

“Have you gotten to know anyone?  Started to feel more comfortable in social situations?”

“But, Marinette!” he spluttered.  “These things take time! I only just moved a few weeks ago!”

Marinette tossed her blending brush to the table as she stood.  “I know, but--Max, how would you feel about letting us help you?”

“Help me?” he repeated, frowning.  “Help me what?”

“Break out of your shell?” Marinette answered, her rising inflection making it a question.  She wanted to help Max, not offend him.  “You mother has kind of thrown you into the deep end here, and I kind of got the feeling that you’re drowning--”

“What my sister means to say,” Bridgette cut in with a warning glance for Marinette and a kind smile for Max, “is that you’ve seemed pretty uncomfortable at the other events we’ve taken you to.  It’s completely new to you, isn’t it?”

“Your entertainments have been nothing like my mother’s society affairs,” he said stiffly.  “That is true.”

“So maybe it might help if you know better what to expect?” Bridgette went on.  “Things like dress codes, and the types of people who are likely to attend?  

Max’s expression had relaxed a bit, and turned thoughtful.  “Perhaps you are right.  If academic instruction is beneficial to my education, it stands to reason that social instruction would be beneficial as well.”  Then he frowned.  “Is there something wrong with my clothes?”

“N-no,”  Marinette said.  “Not if you like your clothes.  But, have you ever experimented with other styles?”

He shook his head.  “Mother has always selected my wardrobe.”

“Well, would you like to try now?” Bridgette asked.  You shouldn’t change anything about yourself for other people, but if you’d like to explore your own sense of style for yourself, we could definitely help with that.”

He looked uncertainly between his cousins.  “I suppose it is too late to change anything for this evening.  There is no time to go shopping--”

“Yay!” Bridgette squealed, clapping.  “Of course it’s not too late!”

At the same time, Marinette said “Nonsense.  You live with a budding designer, Max.  It’s never too late.”  She grinned delightedly as she eyed him up and down, mentally calculating his size and what styles would be flattering on him.  “Come on Max, we’re going to raid your closet.”

Bridgette gave an encouraging nod, and Marinette gestured for Max to precede them into his room.  He stopped just inside the door, and turned back.  

“Marinette, I’m sure that nothing in my current wardrobe--”

She waved him to silence as she looked around his immaculate room.  “Where are those jeans that Maman got for you right after you arrived?”

“Oh.  Those.  They are at the back of the closet.”

Marinette dove into his closet and began flipping through the hangers, looking for likely candidates.  She found the jeans and held them out behind her, then shook them when he didn’t take them from her.  The hanger left her hand, and she went back to digging.

“Are you certain that denim is an appropriate choice?” he said uncertainly.  “Mother says--”

“Max, I love you,” Marinette interrupted him again as she emerged with several shirts in her hands.  “But I need you to please forget everything your mother has told you about fashion. Her fashion sense is several decades out of date, and anyway, we’re trying to find your fashion sense.”  He frowned, but nodded. “Good.  We’ll try a few things, and if nothing works for you then we’ll stick with this for now, until we can go shopping.”

“So, jeans?” he asked.

“Jeans,” she said, nodding firmly as she laid out the shirts on the bed.  “Those in particular are perfect, because the darker color means that we can dress them up or down pretty easily.  As for your shirt...”  She trailed off, eyeing their options consideringly: a surprisingly current white button down dress shirt, thankfully not yet starched and ironed to within an inch of its life; a fuzzy fawn colored sweater with a shallow V neck; a previously white long-sleeve henley that her father had accidentally turned pink in the wash; and the t-shirt that had been hanging with the jeans.  Her mother had bought that, too, and while Max had expressed thanks, no one had seen either article of clothing since.  “Okay,” she said.  “Of these four, are there any that you definitely don’t want to wear tonight?”

“The sweater, if you intend for me to wear it alone.  It is wool, and itchy if I’m not wearing something under it.”

“Fair enough.” Marinette took the sweater and hung it back in the closet.

“Anything else?”

He frowned.  “I am not fond of this one, either.  It was kind of your mother to think of me, but--.”

She whisked the t-shirt away and put it with the sweater.  “So that leaves us with the henley and the button down, yeah?”  At his assent, she moved for the door.  “Why don’t you go ahead and get changed?  Put on whichever shirt you like more.  I’m going to go and finish my make up, and then we’ll see what you think.”

[youcancallmecirce]

Haste & Leisure Chapter 2.5: Machinations

P&P AU deleted scene:  Adrien plots to see Bridgette again, drawing his sisters and Felix into his scheme.

I found this on my external hard drive this morning, and couldn't remember why I didn't include it in the main story. Something about pacing, I think. I think it's a cute scene, though, and figured I'd share it. It takes place between chapters 2 and 3, and gives rise to the "curious invitation" the girls receive at the beginning of chapter 3. Enjoy!!

I still don’t know why you don’t just call her yourself,” Felix said reasonably without lifting his eyes from the page of his book.  He wasn’t getting much reading done; Adrien’s pacing was too much of a distraction but he wasn’t ready to admit defeat. “She would not have given you her number if she didn’t intend for you to use it.”

Adrien ignored him, just as he had the first time Felix had made that observation, and continued trying to reason with his sister.  “Look. I want a chance to get to know her, and I want to do it without worrying about ninja paparazzi leaping out at us. And I don’t want to just invite her over here to hang out with a couple of guys she barely knows.  What if she thinks I’m a creep?”  

He paused to listen, scoffed, and switched to wheedling.  “Please, Chlo?” he asked, then frowned quietly as he listened to her answer.  He scoffed again. “Because I’m your brother and you love me. And because I really, really like this girl, and I want you to like her, too.”

Adrien went quiet again as he listened to her response, but Felix could tell it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.  He ran an anxious hand through his hair. “Well, I know you aren’t—” he stopped abruptly to listen, and then, “Okay, then come stay here.”

Felix’s head snapped up, all pretense of reading abandoned.  “Wait, what?”

“Of course Felix doesn’t mind,” Adrien reassured her.  “He has this whole huge house and it’s just the two of us in it.  Why would he mind?”

“What?” Felix asked again, aghast.  Surely Adrien hadn’t meant what he thought he’d meant—

Adrien pulled the phone from his ear with a wince, and Felix could hear Chloe squealing (screeching?) from his place on his bed, halfway across the room.   Then he caught sight of Felix’s horrified expression as he turned in his pacing and paled. “But, but only for the weekend,” he said, back-pedaling. “This is not an open-ended invitation.  And don’t forget, you have to invite the girls over for—”

A pause.  

“Yes, both of them.  Bridgette won’t come if you don’t invite Marinette, as well.”  

Another pause.

He frowned.  “Then I see no reason for you and Sabrina to spend the weekend at the Agreste Manor, do you?”

A very short pause, and his frown slid into a smirk.  “I knew I could count on you, Chlo.”

Adrien ended the call and fell backwards onto the bed next to Felix, tossing his phone aside and letting his arms fall out to the sides.  He sighed happily.  

Felix glared.  “Did you really just bribe your sister with a weekend spent at my house, just to get around calling that girl yourself?”

His friend had the grace to look sheepish.  “Yes,” he said apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Fe.  I just…panicked.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t bar your sisters from the property,” Felix asked flatly.

“Because I’m your best friend and you love me?” Adrien replied hopefully, making his answer sound like a question.  

Felix sighed in resignation, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.  Adrien was right, the spoiled brat. They were more brothers than friends. “They may arrive no earlier than 4pm on Friday, and they must be gone by 4pm on Sunday.”  

“Felix, thank you—!”

“I’m serious, Adrien.  If they’re not gone by four o’clock on Sunday, I will have security escort them out.”

“I understand completely—”

“And if Chloe tries to crawl into bed with me again, I will have them thrown out right then and there, no matter what time it is.”  Felix stopped for a moment, thinking, then added, “Sabrina too, for that matter.”

Adrien winced at the reminder, and cleared his throat awkwardly.  “Right. I’ll uh, I’ll make sure they get the memo.”

[youcancallmecirce]

Haste & Leisure Update!

It’s only been 18 months, guys.  You remember it, right?  Read this chapter on AO3.  Read it from the beginning.

Chapter 6: Discoveries

Marinette led Théo to the door of her parents’ bakery, and smiled at him over her shoulder as she pushed it open.  “I don’t care what you say,” she said. “No New York bake shop could possibly have pastries as good as ours!”

“It’s owned by a couple of Parisian expatriots!” Théo argued, laughing.  

“So?” she shot back, still watching Theo as she held the door open.  “They probably left Paris because they couldn’t compete with my Papa.”  His hand joined hers on the glass door, and she turned to continue into the store.  She stopped dead when she saw the two men who had just turned away from her mother. She blinked.  “Adrien?”

“Marinette!” he said, grinning.  Then his eyes flicked behind her, and his smile faded.  Adrien looked pained and Felix looked downright hostile, his eyes also locked somewhere behind her and his expression frigid.

An awkward moment stretched, and Adrien cleared his throat awkwardly.  “It’s good to see you, Marinette, but we’ll have to catch up later.” Then he brushed by her without another word.  Felix stalked after him.

Marinette frowned.  It was pretty normal for Felix to be rude, but Adrien had always been perfectly polite.  “That was weird,” she said, glancing at Théo. He looked as uncomfortable as Adrien had.  “Do you know them?”

His lips thinned.  “Yeah.”

“It sounds like there’s a story there.”

“There is.”  He sighed and seemed to shake himself, then smiled.  “But I’m not one to go talking shit about someone behind his back.  Besides, I believe I owe you some coffee.”

“You do,” Marinette said.  She was dying to know how Théo could possibly know Adrien and Felix, or what could have happened between them, but she wasn’t going to pry.  “And I won’t be happy until you concede that these are the best pastries you’ve ever had.”

His smile widened to a grin. “We’ll see.”

She led him to the counter and introduced him to her mother.  They chatted for a bit as When Sabine tried to give them their drinks on the house, Marinette interrupted her.

“Oh no, Maman!” She cut in, laughing.  “He fibbed to me! You can’t let him off the hook!”

Théo gasped theatrically, grasping his chest as if mortally wounded.  “You would tell on me,” he cried, “to your mother ?”

“Of course she would,” Sabine answered, laughing.  “No daughter of mine would let a man lie to her and get away with it!”

Théo choked, his eyes wide, and Marinette laughed too.  “Relax Theo,” she said, patting his arm. “It was just a little white lie, and you’ve already offered the coffee to make amends.”  

“You women are merciless,” he muttered good naturedly as he handed over the cash.

After refusing his change, he led Marinette to a table in the corner.  It was a comfortable nook, where they could enjoy their refreshments, talk without interruption, and still see the goings on in the store if they wanted to.  

Marinette enjoyed their conversation immensely.  He’d charmed her on the walk to the bakery, and he continued to do so now.  He was animated when speaking, conveying everything with a touch of humor, and actually listened to her when she spoke rather than thinking about what he would say next. It was refreshing, and Marinette found herself liking him more and more.  

She’d forgotten all about Felix and Adrien until Théo brought them up again.

“Have you known them long?” he asked lightly, fingering the narrow wooden stir stick from his coffee.

“Only a few weeks,” she said.  “We met them right after they arrived in Paris.  What about you?”

“Years,” he said.  He blew out a deep breath and put the stick in his mouth, like a lollipop.  “My father was the CFO for Agreste Industries, and a good friend of Gabriel’s.  Our families spent a lot of time together when we were younger.”

Marinette sat back in her seat and stared at Théo in amazement.  “You were friends with Felix?”

“We were like brothers,” he said sadly.

“What happened?” she asked, already angry with Felix for throwing away such a good friend.  “What did he do?”

Theo laughed softly.  “I guess he hasn’t changed much.”

“Apparently not.”

“Hmm.”  Theo took the stick from his mouth and fiddled with it, his elbows on the table and his eyes on his hands.  “I did my first three years at FIT--”

“The Fashion Institute of Technology?” Marinette asked, surprised.

He nodded.  “It was great.  I loved it there, and I worked a lot with Gabriel.  He was basically my mentor, you know?” he glanced up to meet her eyes and Marinette nodded.  

“And Felix?” she prompted.

He shrugged.  “They don’t exactly have a close relationship.  Felix worked on the admin side of the company, but not with fashion or design, and it disappointed Gabriel.  They’ve been at odds ever since Felix insisted on studying business rather than fashion, and I think he was jealous of the time Gabriel spent with me.”

It made sense.  Felix was certainly arrogant enough to destroy a long-standing friendship over jealousy and bruised pride.  What she didn’t understand was why Theo would leave such a promising situation in New York to study abroad--especially in the same city as Felix-- and she said as much.

Théo scoffed bitterly, replacing the stick in his mouth.  “I left because I have no future in New York. Not anymore.  Felix sabotaged my position at Agreste, and got me kicked out of FIT.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, incredulous.  She knew that Felix was a cold-hearted prick, but this was worse than she’d expected even from him.  

He nodded, his eyes steady on hers.  “I had no idea that he was even leaving New York, much less that he was coming here.” He laughed humorlessly, and with more than a little self-deprecation.  “Of all the cities I could have chosen, why did I have to pick his hometown?”

Poor guy.  Marinette put her hand over his and squeezed.  “It’s a big city. I won’t be able to avoid him entirely, since my sister seems to be in love with his best friend, but hopefully you’ll never have to see him again.”

Felix sat rigid and silent in the car, and Adrien knew him well enough not to try to talk to him.  His friend just kept eyeing him worriedly, while trying not to look like he was eyeing him worriedly.  

It was almost as irritating as conversation would have been.

Almost.

Felix knew that if he opened his mouth, he’d not be able to contain the fury churning in his gut.  He would lose control, and Felix Agreste never lost control.  

Ever.

So he sat in stony silence, ignoring Adrien as he pretended to ignore him, and fumed within the safety of his own head.

That fucking worm had followed him to Paris.

There was no other explanation.  Perhaps for revenge? True, Felix had made sure that the doors at Agreste would be forever closed to Théo Barbot, but he hadn’t ruined him with the fashion community at large.  All anyone knew was that there had been a falling out between them; the man could probably have gotten into another fashion house on gossip alone.  As unlikely as it seemed, Felix could think of no other reason for Barbot to have come to Paris.

Felix snorted at his own arrogance.  Whatever his reasons, they didn’t concern him.  He and his family were done with Théo Barbot. Running into him had sucked, but merely seeing the man should only have stoked his simmering resentment.  

It should not have catapulted him into a white hot rage. Even seeing him with her had not made him truly angry; it had made him jealous.

And there it was.  The crux of it all, the real reason for his fury.  He was jealous of Barbot. Again .

He headed straight for the library when they got home.  He’d intended to spend the balance of the afternoon with his nose buried in a book but Adrien shadowed him all the way to his sanctuary.  Felix ignored him. His book was on the side table where he’d left it, and he scooped it up as he sank gratefully into the overstuffed chair he’d claimed as his.

Adrien dropped himself into the chair opposite and propped his feet on the ottoman, his fingers laced together over his chest.  Felix tried to ignore him, but he could feel Adrien’s eyes on the top of his head.

So much for  Adrien knowing well enough to leave him alone.  “Don’t you have something to do?” he asked in clear irritation, turning a page.  

Adrien ignored the rude question. “Are you going to tell her about him?” he asked instead.

“No,” he said sharply.  “It’s no concern of mine, who she chooses to spend her time with.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that it was, but it can’t hurt to warn her.”  The hint of a smirk in his tone set Felix’s teeth on edge.

“Speak for yourself, Adrien,” he snapped.  “You’ve never been treated to the sharp side of her tongue.”

“You wish you could be treated to her tongue,” he quipped, the smirk now clearly evident.

Felix glared at him.  “I want nothing to do with that ass, up to and including interfering with mutual acquaintances.”  

“If you say so,” Adrien said doubtfully, his mouth still curled in a half smile.  “I think you’re just afraid of appearing jealous.”  

He had no answer to that, so Felix went back to staring at his book.

“We should have a party,” Adrien said, abruptly changing the subject.  

Felix looked up in surprise.  “What?”

“A party.”  Adrien rolled his eyes.  “You know, food, drinks, music, people.  A party. This would be a great venue. Maybe we could partner with the University to do a sponsored event here.”

“Are you insane?”

“It would be good for you, I think.  Push you out of your comfort zone, maybe help you make some friends.”

“Oh, I see.”  Felix went back to his book.  “This is about Bridgette.”

“And Marinette,” Adrien added.  “I know that you like her, so don’t bother denying it.”

Felix went on as if Adrien hadn’t spoken. “Just ask her out, Adrien.  There’s no need to torture me any more than you already have.”

“She’ll say no.”  

“Then don’t ask her out.”

“But I want to see her again.”

He gave up on reading and closed his book with a sigh. “Adrien--”

Adrien moved suddenly, pulling his feet down from the ottoman and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.“She treats me like a person, Fe,” he said earnestly.  Not like a piece of meat, not like a stepping stone or a conquest. She sees me.” Adrien frowned and lowered his eyes, as if embarrassed by what he’d revealed. “I really like her,” he went on softly.  “I don’t want to mess this up by rushing in and acting like a creep.  Please?”

Felix glared at him.  Adrien knew perfectly well that if it was important to him, Felix would back him up.  Even if he hated every minute of it. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” he muttered at last, giving in.

Adrien whooped and leapt out of his chair.  Adrien never could sit still when he was excited, and Felix could see that he was already turning ideas over in his mind.  “Classes start in a week. Maybe we can schedule it for the following weekend? Two weeks is enough time to plan, right?”

“I can’t believe I agreed to this.” Felix dropped his head against the back of the seat.  

“It should be plenty of time, especially if you let me borrow Nathalie.”  He stopped in his pacing and looked at Felix. “You’ll let me borrow Nathalie, right?”

“Why can’t you just invite them over to watch another movie?”

He shook his head and turned to leave. “Nevermind,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll just go ask her myself.”

Felix leaned forward to yell at his retreating back.  “You’re welcome, asshole!” He sighed again, and went back to his book.  “Alone at last,” he muttered into the pages.  

It didn’t feel nearly as good as he thought it would.

Marinette didn’t return to the Student Union when Théo left.  She needed the time alone to process her thoughts. She had a design that had been giving her fits, and this was the perfect time to wrestle with it.  She did her best thinking when she was drawing, and did her best drawing when she was distracted.

The thing that confused her the most, she thought, was the friendship between Felix and Adrien.  She did not understand how such an honest, big-hearted person could be friends with a vicious snake.  The only possible explanation was that Felix had somehow hidden his true character from Adrien, and deceived him about Théo.  

The very thought of it made her furious, and it showed in her pencil strokes.  The dark harsh lines spread quickly over the page until her lead tore through her paper and broke.  She blinked at it, and suddenly became aware of what she’d drawn.

Felix’s face stared back at her from the page, his angular features drawn down in the frozen scowl he’d worn that afternoon in the bakery.

She slammed it closed and tossed it to the side with a growled epithet.

“Marinette?”

Marinette jumped  and spun her chair around to face the door.  Bridgette had climbed halfway into their room and stopped to stare She offered her a weak smile.  “Did you...have a good time?”  

“Not really.”  She came the rest of the way into the room and settled on the chaise, her knees drawn up to her chin.  “I actually intended to yell at you for abandoning me with Max, but I’m thinking now that maybe you had a good reason for it?”

“Not at first,” Marinette admitted.  “I let a handsome man distract me, and brought him back here to buy me coffee.”

“Oh?” Bridgette’s eyebrows rose with interest.  “Do tell.”

Bridgette’s eyes sparkled as she listened.  “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet him!” she said.  “But that doesn’t explain why you’re so upset?”

“Something weird happened when we got here.”  She frowned, unsure how much to tell Bridgette.  “Felix and Adrien were on their way out just as we came in, which would have been fine, except that the three of them obviously know and dislike one another.  Even Adrien was rude to him.”

Bridgette blinked.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  It was strange.  Théo brushed it off at first, but it came up again later.”  Marinette relayed what Théo had told her, and got angry all over again.  “Can you believe him?” She asked hotly. “I mean, I knew he was an ass but this is ridiculous!”

“I don’t know,” Bridgette answered slowly, lowering her legs until they were crossed in front of her, yoga style.  “I mean, are you sure?”

Marinette’s frown deepened.  “Sure about what?”

“It just--it doesn’t make sense.  We have to be missing something.”

“You’re not suggesting that Théo was lying?” She rose from her chair and began to pace the room.  “You didn’t see his face, Bri. No one could feign that kind of pain.”

“Then there must have been some kind of understanding.  Maybe we could ask Adrien--”

“No, if Felix is innocent he can defend himself.”

Bridgette took in Marinette’s crossed arms and mutinous look with alarm.  “You’re not going to confront him, are you?”

“I probably ought to, but no.”  Marinette sat down next to her sister with a sigh.  “I just want to avoid him. He’s not worth my time.”

Her sister smiled sadly.  “So I guess my secret hopes for double dates are doomed to die?”

Marinette scoffed, and smiled wryly.  “I’m surprised you found a reason to give them life in the first place.”

She nibbled at her lower lip, clearly bothered by something.  “Marinette,” she began cautiously, “whatever happened with Théo, you don’t think that Adrien was a part of it, do you?”

“No, of course not!” she said firmly.  “I think that he’s just too sweet to see the nastiness in Felix, especially if Felix was deliberately deceitful.”

“I really like him, Marinette.”  She blushed as she said it, but went on doggedly.  “I really, really like him.   I want to see where this could go, but I don’t want to alienate you.”

Marinette realized suddenly what Bridgette was getting at, and wrapped her in a hug.  “I just want you to be happy, Bri. If that means tolerating your boyfriend’s asshole bestie then I’ll find a way to tolerate him.”  She pulled back to grin at her sister. “I can’t promise that I’ll do it gracefully, though. I think that might be a bridge too far.”

Bridgette laughed, just as Marinette had intended her to. “He’s not my boyfriend, Nettie.”

Marinette lifted an eyebrow skeptically, and they both dissolved into giggling speculation.

[youcancallmecirce]

Elemental, ch 13: Regrouping

Because I have no chill.  Read it on AO3.

“So, that was wild,” said Nino, his laconic wit more dry than usual.

Everyone stared at him.

After the truncated fight, Adrien had scooped Marinette into his arms and announced his intention to take her to the emergency room.  Marinette flatly refused.

“No hospital, no police.  This can’t become any more public than it already is,” she said, her voice still raw, and Adrien had reluctantly agreed.  Having yielded that point, though, he insisted on carrying her the entire way home. Marinette gave in easily to that, too tired and frightened by her experience to offer more than a token argument.

Satisfied with her acquiescence, Adrien had set Marinette on her feet long enough to text Nino, though he kept one arm around her waist the entire time.  When he’d told him to meet them back at the girls’ apartment, he’d scooped her up once more and started off in that direction.

A few of the people who had been nearby and successfully ushered away by Nino and Alya shrank back from them as they’d passed, and while Marinette’s heart had sunk at their obvious fear,  Adrien didn’t even seem to notice them.

They were the last to return.  The others had made a place for them on the couch, fussing over Marinette, and Adrien claimed the place next to her.  

Now, they were all seated around the living room, staring at Nino incredulously.  Marinette wondered how he could describe the disaster so mildly. Then she remembered that all of this was new to him, and she blinked.  “How are you dealing with all of this, Nino?”

“Me?”  He looked startled by the question.  “I’m good. I’m still worried about you!”

Marinette touched her still-painful throat and winced.  “I’ll be fine.”

“You should let me heal you,” Master Fu said again, frowning at her.  

“Later.  Maybe. Right now, we need to figure out what to do next.”

Alya shook her head helplessly, her face still pale.  Actually, Alya was in worse shape than Nino. Marinette would have expected the opposite, given that Alya had at least been aware of the magical world before this.  Nino had taken the evening’s events in stride, but Alya was struggling.

“Indeed it was, Nino,” said Master Fu with a sigh, finally responding to Nino’s observation.  He looked as if he’d aged decades since they’d returned to the apartment. “And we do need to decide on a course of action.”

“Do you know what it was, Master Fu?” Adrien asked.  “It wasn’t just Nathniel.”

“No, it certainly wasn’t just Nathaniel.”  Fu leaned back on the couch and crossed his hands over his belly.  “From what you’ve described, I believe is was an Akuma.”

Adrien frowned in confusion and Alya stared at him blankly, but both Marinette and Nino cursed at hearing the name.  Once again, all eyes swung to Nino.

“You know what an akuma is?” Marinette asked incredulously.

“Yeah.” Nino shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny.  “I know some stuff. My mom’s a mage, my dad is a djinni.”

There was a long moment of silence as they all gaped at him, stunned.

Master Fu smiled faintly, and inclined his head towards Nino.  “We can explore Nino’s connections to the magical world later.”  Then he shifted his gaze to Adrien. “An Akuma is an elemental that has been captured and enslaved by a dark mage.  It is rare, but it can be done if the mage is both creative and depraved.”

Adrien’s mouth had fallen open, and he gaped at Fu in disbelief.  “I thought you said that if a mage tried to force a binding, that the elemental would possess the mage?”

Marinette shook her head. “It’s not a binding; Akumas are something different.”

“An Akuma’s will is completely dominated by that of the mage,” Fu added.  “It has no agency of its own.”

Adrien seemed to digest this for a moment.  “Is Nathaniel our mage, then?”

“Nathaniel was only a tool wielded by the dark mage, like the Akuma itself.”

“I just don’t understand,” Alya put in.  “Why would anyone want to hurt Marinette?”

Fu looked at Adrien, his gaze clear and direct, and Adrien closed his eyes in resignation.  “It’s Piers.”

Marinette’s eyes widened, then narrowed angrily.  “How could you say such a thing, Adrien? You know her!  You were there, you saw her!”

“Marinette--”

“She apologized to us!  She comforted me!”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“I think he’s right,” Alya offered quietly.  “Think about it, M. She’s been at that university for years; there’s no way she didn’t know about the policy on student privacy, and there’s no way she broke it lightly.”

Adrien nodded his agreement.  “I checked with the dean, Marinette.  The penalty for the rest of the university is suspension pending investigation; the penalty for the Arcane Department is usually automatic dismissal.  The only reason she was suspended and not terminated, is that she has been with the university for so long, with a spotless record.”

“But--”

“Didn’t you say, Adrien, that she didn’t know you were more than acquaintances?”  Adrien nodded, and Alya continued. “And she knows very well how close-lipped you are about your power, Marinette.  She had every reason to think that she’d never be found out.”

“No.  I don’t believe it,” Marinette said mulishly, though her voice had lost some of its conviction.

“You don’t have to, Marinette.”  She looked at Fu hopefully but he shook his head sadly.  “Not yet, anyway. What I want you to do, is to go with Adrien to Meriton while we find out what’s going on here.”

There was a brief pause, and then everyone spoke at once.

“What?  Why”

“I’m not going to run away!”

“Where is Meriton?”

“She can’t! It’s not possible!”

Fu held his hand up for silence, and they quieted.  “It is possible, and you will not be running away. It is a strategic retreat, so that we can gather information and make a solid plan.  Whoever this mage is, they want Marinette, and probably Adrien as well. If you remove yourselves from their reach, it will not only keep you safe, but also bring a halt to whatever they have planned.”

Alya glanced over at Adrien, then at Fu.  “I don’t understand why you think a retreat is necessary.”

“Right?” Nino agreed.  “Adrien had this guy way outclassed, and we know what to expect now.  If he and Marinette work together next time, they’ll have it in the bag.”

Fu shook his head.  “It won’t be that easy.  Our mage was clumsy and over confident in choosing a water mage weaker than Adrien.  If it was Piers, then she didn’t realize you’d bonded with Plagg and likely reasoned that a mage of less power but greater control could best him--even with the added difficulty of controlling the other mage through the Akuma.  It might have even worked, if you had not been able to invoke your bond. The mage won’t make that mistake again. They know what to expect now, too, and will be sure to choose a powerful mage of their own element, or one that will actively counter one of yours.”

“It would be just as careless for us to re-engage without doing as much as we can to prepare.”  Marinette sighed. “What do they even want from us? Our power?”

Fu nodded, tapping his ear with a pointed look at Marinette.  “All of it.”

“No,” Marinette breathed.  She looked at Adrien, who shrugged helplessly.  It was enough to make her blood run cold, but she still wasn’t convinced that leaving was the right thing to do.  “But, if we are out of the picture, who is going to gather this information?”

Fu’s gaze slid to Alya, and then to Nino, before coming back to Marinette.  “I do believe,” he said, “that you have friends who are perfectly capable and perfectly willing to do a little investigating on your behalf.”

Marinette felt her heart drop, just thinking about Alya poking around at the kind of mage that could make and control an Akuma.  “Absolutely not! I won’t let Alya put herself in danger for me!”

“Um, excuse me?”  Alya drawled with deceptive calm.  “Alya here. Remember me? Your best friend, investigative reporter, grown ass woman ?”

Marinette winced.   Shit .  “I know, but--”

“And she won’t be alone,” Nino said firmly, interrupting her.  “I’m not sure how much you know about Djinn, but we’re kind of...scary.”

Marinette blinked, and made a mental note to read up on Djinn later.

“Scary?” Alya asked in an aside to him, her brows raised, and Nino shrugged.  “We’re coming back to that later. I hope you know that.”

He quirked a rueful smile, and nodded.  “Yeah, I kind of figured,” he said in the same lower tone.

Fu smiled.  “And you have some of your mother’s magic as well, don’t you?”

“Yup.”

“So,” Adrien began, bringing the conversation back to the point, “assuming that we can even get Marinette to Meriton, what are we going to be doing there?  Sightseeing?”

“I suppose you can do a bit of that if you want to, but no.  I think it is high time that you confronted your father, and I think that this is a good time to do it.”

Adrien’s face went pale and stony, but he said nothing.  He just leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and stared pensively down at his hands.

Marinette looked from Adrien’s shuttered expression to Fu’s placid one, and had to take a deep breath to calm her temper.  Then another. “Master Fu, I love you,” she said finally, her words slow and deliberate. “You know that I do. And I both honor and respect you as my elder.”

Fu’s eyes twinkled.  “But?”

“But I have to ask.  Who the fuck do you think you are, and what are you thinking?”

Adrien choked in surprise, but Alya snickered and Fu outright laughed.  “I love you too, my dear. And I understand why you believe my suggestion to be impertinent.  It is impertinent.  But it is necessary, and I think that Adrien will be the stronger for it, when it’s done.”

“And if his asshole of a father makes things worse?” she demanded.

“He might.  Knowing Gabriel, he will probably try.”  Adrien scoffed, but didn’t contradict him.  “Aren’t you glad, then, that you will be there with him?”

Resigned, Adrien sat back and slipped his arm around Marinette’s stiff shoulders.  She relaxed into him, but did not stop glowering at Fu.

He was not wild about the idea of facing his father, and even less so about subjecting Marinette to that hell, but he couldn’t deny the wisdom of Fu’s suggestion.  And taking her to Meriton, sharing his home with her? Seeing her there? Yes, he liked that idea very much.

“How do we do it?” he asked, just as Marinette opened her mouth to argue.  She shut it again, and looked at him questioningly. He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, and she relaxed a bit more.  He looked back to Fu. “How can we get her to Meriton? Because I’ll not agree to it unless you can guarantee her safety.”

“She’ll be as safe there as you are here.  The rest will be up to the two of you.”

Nino and Alya shared a confused look.  “What did we miss?”

“Because it seems like we’re missing a lot.”

“I will leave you young people to fill in the holes for one another,” Fu said, reaching for his cane and pushing to his feet.  “It is time for this old man to get some rest, if I am to work such an enchantment any time soon.”

“Master Fu?” Adrien asked, stopping him.  “What will you be doing, while we are gone?”

“Recovering, and doing a little digging of my own.”

Adrien did not like the oblique response, but let it go with a nod.  

"Marinette?  If you will come with me, my dear, I will see to your throat before I retire."

When they had gone, Alya rose and started for the kitchen.  “Anyone else want a drink? I’m pretty sure that whatever bombs you’re going to drop, I am going to need one by the time we’re through.”

The others agreed, and when Marinette returned, they all ended up around the dining table with drinks in hand and a bowl of chips and salsa between them.

"Your neck looks better," Nino offered as Marinette came into the room.  

Adrien was relieved to see that Nino was right; the bruising had disappeared entirely.

She put a hand to her throat as she sat at the table with them.  "It feels better."

“You sound better too,” Alya said.  “I’m glad.”

They all settled in to their snack then.  After a few minutes of companionable crunching all the way around the table, Adrien sighed. He was still hesitant to share his secrets, but after this evening, it made no sense to keep them.  Better to get it done and over. “I guess I’ll start then.”

Marinette scooted her chair closer to him to put her hand on his thigh.  Her touch was reassuring, and he smiled his thanks before drawing in a deep breath.  “I’m a Mer,” he said.

Nino nodded in sudden understanding, but Alya stared blankly.

“A Merman,” Marinette said softly, and Alya’s eyes went round.

Adrien nodded, and continued.  “I grew up in a city called Meriton, and until I moved here, I’d lived under the sea for my entire life.”

“Hence the problem with taking Mari home to meet the family.”

“One of them,” Adrien said grimly, answering Nino.  “The sea is a dangerous place.”

“But how are you here?” Alya asked.  “Not that I don’t believe you, but Marinette’s not the only one to have noticed that ass.  Not a scale in sight.”

“Hey!”

“Hey yourself, Lahiffe.  I’m committed to you, but I’m not blind.”

“It’s the ring,” Adrien said, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks.  “Fu enchanted my ring.”

“And now you get to be ‘ part of that world’ ,” Alya sang, grinning.

Marinette and Nino both groaned.  

“Had to.”

“Drink your tequila, Al,” Nino said, pushing her drink a bit closer to her. “The adults are speaking.”  Then he looked at Marinette. “Air mage, right?”

“I--yes?  How did you know?”

Nino nodded.  “I figured you were, since that sweet little  Air elemental is always hanging around you.”

Marinette startled.  “You’ve seen Tikki? She doesn’t usually show herself around anyone but me.  Well, and now Adrien, too.”

“Yup.  I’ve seen your grumpy little cat dude, too, Adrien.  He’s kind of an asshole.”

Adrien stared at him.  “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Nino shrugged.  “I was taught that it’s best to stay mum about this sort of thing, and you guys never brought it up.  I figured that was the way you wanted it.”

“Can you see magic, then?” Marinette asked curiously.

“Well, yeah, sometimes.  I mean, I’m half Djinni, so I can see all of the non-corporeals and I can see magic, when it’s used.”

“Non-corporeals?” echoed Alya.

“Purely magical creatures who aren’t tied to a tangible form,” Marinette explained. “Things like elementals, banshees, slyphys, keplies…” Marinette trailed off, and Alya nodded her understanding.

“What exactly is a Djinni?” she asked next.  “I’m assuming we’re not talking about anything like Aladdin’s big blue buddy.”

“No way.  It’s like, a full Djinni is non-corporeal, but can manifest on the physical plane in shape they wish.  And they can make changes on the physical plane, when they want to. It’s not unusual for a Djinni to play with people by pretending to grant wishes, while twisting the wish to suit their own purposes.  That’s how my parents met, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yup.  Mom wanted help with something big, and dad tried to play her.  She turned it around on him, tricking him into helping her after all.”  He rolled his eyes. “Mom loves to tell the story.”

“That doesn’t sound scary, it sounds sweet.” Alya prompted.  

Nino grimaced.  “Yeah. My parents are sweet.  Not all Djinn are cool, though, and the ones who aren’t tend to be nasty as fuck.  And even for the cool ones, well...let’s just say that it’s important for Djinn to stay zen.”

“How much of your dad’s power did you inherit?”  Marinette asked curiously.

“I can do almost everything my dad can, but I’m fully corporeal and not as strong.  My mom’s Earth magic means that I can do a few tricks that he can’t,though, and it’s awesome. ”

Adrien shook his head, trying to process everything Nino had told them.  It was another huge revelation, not long after all of the others. He almost didn’t know how to process it. “Did you know what I was from the beginning?” he asked, finally.

“Nah.  I just knew you weren’t fully human, and that you have a crabby water elemental living with you.”  Nino frowned. “So you guys had no idea? About me?”

They all shook their heads.  “I know I can’t sense other magicals,” Marinette offered.  “I can’t tell unless someone uses magic in front of me.”

“Same.  The more powerful the magic, the easier it is to sense.”

“Well I certainly can’t sense anything,” Alya said.  “I’m completely non-magical. I just happened to have a freakishly powerful Air mage for a best friend, or I wouldn’t have known anything at all.”

“Actually,” Nino said, surprising everyone once more.  “You’re not completely non-magical. You’ve got something, somewhere in your family tree that I can’t place.  It’s Earthy, though. It’s why you’re so well grounded, and why you seem to gravitate towards magicals.”

“I think I need another drink.”  

[youcancallmecirce]

An Elemental Update!

Chapter 12: Attacked

Last time, on Elemental: Marinette is an air mage, Adrien is a Mer water mage. They found one another out, had a sleep over, and had a nice hookup under da sea. Meanwhile, Marinette's mentor shares too much about Marinette, everyone encourages her to report the woman, and she does. Which is a good thing, because the mentor is actually bat shit crazy and evil AF.

Now, on Elemental: Marinette feels wretched about reporting her mentor, and Alya and Co. make a point to cheer her up. Their plans are interrupted. (Click here to read on AO3.)

Marinette sat listlessly at her desk and fiddled with her yoyo.  She was out of practice, but she could still do the basic looping and sleeping with her eyes closed.  The repetitive motion was calming, if not soothing, and she lost herself to it. Unfortunately, mindless as it was, it did not do much to divert her thoughts.  

She’d walked out of the admin building that morning feeling like the worst sort of scum, and the intervening hours had done nothing to dispel that feeling.  She couldn’t help replaying the morning’s scene in her mind. The Dean of Arcane Studies had listened intently to their complaint, and then had asked them each to submit a signed statement regarding the incident.  Marinette had thought they’d be done after that, but no. The Dean had asked them to stay until after he’d spoken with Mme. Piers, so that she could render an apology to her in person.

Marinette wished now that they’d declined.  She was the victim in this scenario; he could not have forced her to stay.  But at the time, in the moment, she hadn’t realized that she had a choice, and the Dean had taken advantage of that.  No matter what he said, her grievance was not his first concern. No, the reputation of his department was on the line, and he had wanted to do everything he could to cover his ass.

And so Marinette had been there to see Mme Piers arrive.  She’d greeted them warmly, without a clue as to why she’d been summoned.  Then Marinette had waited, tense and miserable, for a full thirty minutes as her mentor was berated for doing something that was, at its heart, perfectly innocent.

“Alright, that’s it,” Alya announced as she marched  into the room. “No more moping.” Marinette jumped at the sound of Alya’s voice, fumbling her yoyo and smacking herself in the face.  She frowned at her roomate, rubbing the bridge of her nose, and Alya winced in sympathy. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Marinette shrugged away the apology and began coiling her yoyo.  “What do you mean? I’m not moping.”

“You are.”  Marinette tried to object, but Alya just kept on as if she hadn’t heard.  “I convened the tribunal--”

“Tribunal?”

“--and we have decided that it’s time for an intervention.”

“I’m not moping!”

Alya gave her a hard look.  “You haven’t even gone to the beach with Adrien, little miss Mopey McMoperson.  Not since you reported Piers.”

“Okay, maybe I am moping, but it was just this morning, Alya!  And she comforted me, as if I weren’t the one who got her in trouble!”

“As she should have,” Alya said with a sniff, completely ignoring the first half of Marinette’s objection. “She got herself into trouble when she broke the rules. I will not allow you to blame yourself for her choices.”  Then she turned to Marinette’s wardrobe and began rummaging through it.

“Um, can I help you?”

“Yes.  You can sit quietly while I pick out the perfect outfit for tonight.”  Alya pulled a summery swing dress from the wardrobe and eyed it critically.  “Yup, this will do.” She tossed it to the bed and went back to rummaging.

Marinette eyed the dress.  “Are we dressing me, or dressing you?”

“You, obviously.  That dress is sweet, but it is too tame and too pink for me.  Ah, here it is!” She pulled Marinette’s favorite pastel kimono and tossed it on top of the dress.  “Now, where is that pink bikini?”

“Bikini?” Marinette echoed as Alya trailed off, gnawing her bottom lip as she thought.  “Where the heck am I going?”

Alya’s expression cleared and she snapped her fingers in remembrance.  “Oh yeah, I saw it earlier,” she muttered, dashing out of the room. Marinette stared after her bemusedly, and she returned a moment later with Marinette’s pink bikini.  

“ We are going out to dinner for a double date with the boys,” she replied, tossing the bathing suit on top of the other items.   After dinner you and Adrien go get naked at the beach while Nino and I take advantage of the empty apartment and get naked here.”  

“Alya!”

“Also, I did laundry this morning.  You’re welcome.”

Marinette slumped sulkily back in her chair, liking the idea very much but not wanting to admit that Alya was right.  “Fine, I’ll go.”

“It’s cute that you thought you had a choice.”

“But the apartment won’t be empty,” Marinette shot back with a smirk. “Master Fu is here for a visit.”  

“Damn.” Alya paused, then shrugged.  “Oh well. We’ll just go to his place instead.”  She gripped Marinette’s head between her hands, planted a kiss on her forehead, and sauntered out.   “Oh, and I call first shower,” she called back over her shoulder. “We’re leaving in an hour.”

“You’re having a good time.  Admit it.”

Marinette’s smile faded and she began to slowly spin her beer bottle in the pool of its own condensation, creating an ever-widening circle of water on the table.  “You know that I am.”

“Well, she was, until you reminded her that she was upset,” Adrien said, and Alya stiffened.

“Hey!”

Nino drained the last of his beer in one long pull and then clunked his mug down onto the table, audibly smacking his lips in satisfaction.  “Yeah, I thought we were trying to distract her.”

Alya deflated, and turned back to look at Marinette across the table.  “I’m sorry, M. I’m just happy to see a smile on your face, and excited that I helped put it there.”

“It’s fine.”  Marinette offered a small but sincere smile and squeezed Alya’s hand.  “I am having a good time, and I’m glad you guys kept me from sulking all night.”

“Thanks, M.”  Alya squeezed her hand back, and sat back take in everyone at the table.  “So, dessert?”

Adrien grabbed the dessert menu from the end of the table and flipped it open.  Then he tilted for everyone to see. “What’s good?”

“The pain au chocolat here is only so-so, but the créme brûlèe is to die for.”

“You only like your parents’ pain au chocolat , M.”

“Can you blame her? Nino asked.  “Ooh, what about the créme caramel ?”

Marinette shrugged.  “I’ve only have the pain au chocolat and the créme brûlèe, and I liked that too much to have tried anything else.”

“Lame,” Nino said without heat.

In the end, it was decided that Adrien and Marinette would share the one , while Alya and Nino tried the other.   Adrien picked up the whole check, overriding his friends’ objections, and they left the cafe happy and full and just a little bit buzzed.  

As she ambled along in the general direction of their apartment, hand in hand with Adrien while their two friends did the same a few paces ahead of them, Marinette thought back to Alya’s assessment about how the evening would progress and found herself blushing.  Though she and Adrien had slept together in the same bed again last night, they not been intimate. It was something she wanted, but things were still new enough between them that she wasn’t sure just how to proceed. He’d said that his people are straight forward about sex, but knowing that didn’t make her any less shy.  And what if he always wanted to do it in the water? That was fun and all, but--

Marinette’s thought process went abruptly blank as they rounded a corner and came came to a halt right next to Nino and Alya, who both seemed to be as frozen as she.  A few others stood on the sidewalk or in the street, all of them staring at the same thing they were.

“Well, that’s something you don’t see every day,” said Nino inanely.

Marinette couldn’t help but agree.

A red-haired man in a t-shirt and blazer hovered in the air just a few meters away from them, his face eerily blank and his eyes glowing a violent, violet purple.  He looked familiar to Marinette, but she couldn’t place him until she heard Adrien mutter the man’s name.

Nathaniel .  He was a graduate student in the Arcane college, writing a thesis on channeling magic of any element through art.  It was an idea which had thoroughly intrigued Marinette. He’d been another of Mme. Piers’ students, though because  his course of study was far more independent, she’d rarely interacted with him. She was looking forward to reading his work, when it was published.

Marinette noted movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned  far enough to see that Alya had raised her phone to record what was happening in front of them.  Despite her fear (whatever was going on, it was not good), she rolled her eyes at Alya. She was as consummate journalist--even when maybe she shouldn’t be.

On her other side, Adrien squeezed her hand gently, drawing her attention, and released her.  She grabbed for him, but he’d already stepped forward. “Nathaniel?” he said again, this time addressing the unnaturally still man floating in front of them.  “It’s Adrien. What happened? Are you okay?”

Nathaniel’s body turned slightly, so that his empty gaze seemed to be now fixed on Adrien.  “I’m sorry,” said a saccharine female voice, and Marinette felt gooseflesh run up her arms. Nathaniel’s mouth had moved, but that was definitely not Nathaniel’s voice.  “Nathaniel cannot come to the phone right now.  May I take a message?”

Yup, definitely not good.  Marinette had an idea of what had happened to him--he’d been possessed, obviously--but she wasn’t certain of the what or how.  And why was he here ?  Had he been waiting for them?  It seemed too great a coincidence to believe that he had not.  She twitched her fingers into the sign for “air”, the signal she and Tikki had long ago agreed on as the signal for help, and Marinette felt a reassuring eddy of air lift the hair from her sweating neck.  Marinette relaxed just a bit, knowing that her oldest friend and greatest ally was there with her.

“Why have you done this?  Why are you here?” Adrien asked, his tone hard.  She saw his hand move as well, anxiously spinning his black ring.  Clearly, he was thinking along the same line that she was, and she was just as glad to have Pagg nearby as she was to feel Tikki.

“Oh, I just thought it might be nice to go for an evening stroll,” the voice answered, still using Nathaniel’s mouth.  “After all, you never know who you’ll run into.”

Fuck.  He--she?--had definitely been waiting for them.  Marinette edged closer to Alya. “ You need to go, and get as many people away from here as you can, ” she pushed at Alya, hoping that her friend would be receptive to the mental communication.  

Alya nearly dropped her phone in surprise, and stared at Marinette with round eyes.

“ This is bad, Alya.  You need to get everyone away. ”

Alya nodded slowly, her eyes still wide, and she tucked her phone away in her purse.  “What about you? And Adrien?” she asked, as quietly as possible.

“ We’re both strong mages, we’ll be okay.  Please, just go. ”

She pressed her lips into a thin line at that, obviously not liking it, but recognizing the wisdom of getting people out of harm’s way.  “Be careful,” she mouthed. At Marinette’s nod, she gripped Nino’s elbow and tugged him back.

Marinette stepped forward, even with Adrien, hoping to draw attention away from everyone else.  “What do you want from us?”

Nathaniel’s body turned towards her, then, the violet eyes narrowed.  “Everything.”

It was almost as if it had happened in slow motion.  Strange details stood out to Adrien, branding themselves into his mind: the defiant tilt of Marinette’s chin, and the faint tremble that betrayed her fear; the grating menace of the once sweet voice as it answered; the glee on Nathaniel’s face as his hand lifted, his fist closing; and most especially, the stunned terror on Marinette’s face as a sparkling band of water coalesced and visibly tightened around Marinette’s throat.

Adrien’s vision narrowed to a single point as his fear gave way to fury.  This--this thing was hurting Marinette, holding her off of the ground with a noose of air about her neck.  “Release her,” he demanded tightly.

“Take her from me,” it taunted, laughing,

Adrien felt his ring pulse with energy.  Something old and deep and primal beckoned to him.   Plagg .  “Fine,” he said, and stepped back into a defensive position and yielded to Plagg’s call.  “ Tides. Rise.”

He had the satisfaction of seeing the violet eyes go wide as Plagg’s green and blue energy swirled triumphantly  around him, filling him with all the raw power of the sea, binding it to him. It surged through him, filling him more completely than it had before, and he felt a wicked smile curve his lips.  Plagg was just as furious, and more, felt a contempt for the being before them that was scathing in its depth.

All of this must have showed, because it faltered, loosening its grip on Marinette, and she gasped in a desperate breath before it regained its hold.  

Plagg wanted to destroy ; Adrien held him in check.  “Release her,” he demanded again, his voice echoing with barely leashed power.  

“Take her,” the thing said again, still taunting.

And so he did.  Adrien reached for the water around Marinette’s throat, his arm outstretched, and seized control of it with a sharp closing of his fist.  His opponent could only gape at him as Marinette fell to the ground, clutching her throat and coughing. He smirked again.

He held the water before him, a tight, swirling sphere of water that hung suspended between his palms, and ready to launch against the possessed mage, but a grip on his ankle had him looking down.  Marinette was on her knees at his feet, her skin pale except for the darkening bruise around her throat.

“Don’t hurt him,” she croaked.  “It’s not him. Not his fault.”

He could feel Plagg balking at the request, but it was moot.  

Their foe had feld.

[youcancallmecirce]

I’ve been working on an Elemental update for the last few days, but my writing muscles have atrophied and it’s not flowing just yet.  I need y’all to send me creative energy and happy thoughts.

[youcancallmecirce]

I have the next Elemental update ready to go and I want to post it but it seems like I ought to give it a few days first?  I don’t know, I’m terrible at waiting.  Thoughts?