Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Marinette pulled her cloak closer, watching the street while she waited. It wasn't cold, but her excitement was running so high that she was inexplicably nervous, and the cloak was the only thing she could fiddle with without undoing all her hard work. As proud as she was of her design and execution, she felt a little odd standing alone on the street corner in all her finery. It would be better once she wasn't alone. Instinctively, she glanced about for a clock, but this intersection didn't have one within view, and she was left not knowing how long she would have to wait. Of course, tonight of all nights, she had been so excited and impatient for the evening's festivities that she left home early for once. It wasn't often she was able to beat the rest of her party to their rendezvous point. She spun in a quick circle, watching the way her cloak billowed around her with a smile. It was going to be the best night ever. Balls were few and far between in this day and age, and nothing in the world could have kept her from attending.

She took a deep breath of the late afternoon air, triple-checked her reticule for her invitation, and tried to remain steady while she waited. Nothing was going to go wrong. They had planned the entire weekend down to every detail. Tonight was just the beginning.

While she waited, she let herself imagine that someone unexpected would arrive and ask her to dance. Rose and Juleka were fine company, but dreaming of dark hair and the smiling blue eyes of Juleka's older brother wouldn't hurt anyone. If only she had met him before Adrien Agreste… then maybe she wouldn't have been too distracted to realize how wonderful his attention had been.

With his phone gripped tightly in his hand, Luka rushed across the gangplank and down into the hold.

"Jules? Are you okay?" The SOS she sent him just as he arrived at work had made him holler an apology and pivot to head straight home. He'd been out most of the day and hadn't expected to hear from Juleka—she had big plans that evening, and he had been on the schedule for an evening shift.

The sound of retching made him stop short outside the bathroom door. "Jules?" The door swung open, and he understood the SOS at a single glance. "Oh, Jules. What can I do for you?"

She turned her face toward him with a grimace. "Not me. Mari." Her voice came out in a croak as she slid her phone toward him. He reached down for it and perused the screen. He saw Marinette's name across the top of the message app, but all of Juleka's messages about sickness and food poisoning were unanswered. "I waited too long to tell her. Kept hoping we would feel better in time."

Luka frowned. "Food poisoning? You're sure?"

Juleka nodded weakly. "Rose, too. We shared lunch before splitting up to get ready."

Luka thumbed across the screen, reading through Rose's messages from the last couple of hours, and understood why his usually level-headed sister hadn't told Marinette they were ill straight away. Rose had begged her to wait.

Rose: We can't give up, not after all our plans.

Rose: I think I might be feeling better. How about you?

Juleka: I don't know… we should warn her at least.

Rose: :crying:

Juleka: We can't leave her there waiting and alone

Rose: I know but I was so exci

Luka didn't have any doubts about why the last message was sent unfinished. Juleka was hugging the toilet bowl again. He backed up, veering to the galley to get her some fresh water and a ginger beer. He checked the time stamps on the messages and realized that Juleka had sent the first of her many messages to Marinette right after the discussion with Rose.

He set the water within easy reach of his sister. "What time were you supposed to meet?"

Juleka moaned. "Six-thirty. That's why I called you. You have to go instead."

Luka looked at the time. It was already a little after six. Juleka hadn't even tried to reach Marinette until just before six. He grabbed his phone and dialed her number. Maybe she wasn't checking messages…

"She doesn't have her phone." Juleka insisted, "She wanted to be authentic. If she left on time…" she trailed off with another moan, and Luka's stomach dropped.

The idea of Marinette standing alone, waiting for friends—who clearly weren't going to make it—would crush her. Especially since she still seemed vulnerable at times after all that mess with Lila Rossi a couple of years ago.

Juleka waved him away. "I'll be fine. Ma'll be home soon anyway. Take my ticket, it's the invitation on my vanity. Go with her, Lu."

He glanced down at himself; his black jeans and an old shirt under his hoodie were hardly appropriate for tonight's event. How—it didn't matter. He wouldn't leave Marinette alone. He ran into his room to trade the hoodie for a decent shirt and jacket and stopped short at the sight of Juleka's suit laid out across her bed. Fitted slacks. A stunning waistcoat, cravat, and a black velvet tailcoat so deep and rich that it looked to be swallowing the light around it. No wonder Juleka had tried to put off canceling. He reached out and ran a finger across the brocade waistcoat. Marinette had spent months putting all their outfits together. Tonight's ball was the kickoff event for a three-day regency experience, and she had made all three girls separate outfits befitting each day. He'd seen Rose and Juleka's dresses for tomorrow's tea, but this was his first glimpse of one of the designs she'd crafted for the ball, and it looked like she'd gone all out.

There was no way he could show up looking like a pizza delivery boy. At least he hadn't started work yet and was still clean. Yanking his hoodie off, he made quick work of exchanging his band tee for the long-sleeved white shirt that hung from the end of Juleka's bed. It was just billowy enough to fit him with enough room to move. He slipped out of his Converse and into his motorcycle boots. They weren't much better than the tennis shoes, considering the period and wealth he was meant to emulate, but at least they were black.

Carefully, he tried the waistcoat. It was double-breasted with two rows of buttons. There was no way he could button both sets, but maybe… it took a minute, and he knew it didn't look half as good on him as it would have on Jules. It didn't lay quite like it was designed to, with only one row of buttons done up to buy him extra room, but it was better than leaving it open.

He grabbed the white, lavender-patterned silk cravat and tossed it around his neck while pulling up a YouTube video on how to tie the knot Jules had been talking about all week long. He made it through the first two minutes before realizing it was a fifteen-minute knot. He quickly pulled one more loop through and left it as it was. Luka frowned at the mirror. He looked more like a kid playing dress-up than a distinguished gentleman worthy of escorting Marinette to a formal dance.

There was more than a little trepidation as he grabbed the coat. The tails would help hide the sins of his jeans, but if he tore it, both Mari and Juleka would kill him. He shrugged it on gently, barely daring to breathe. To his surprise, there were no sounds of ripping seams, and it settled on his shoulders almost comfortably, as long as he didn't try to bend over or reach too far. At least his posture would remain straight.

Too late, he thought of his hair. It took a bit of an effort to lift his arm high enough just to run a hand through it, but it didn't matter. He'd been out of time before he began to dress. He grabbed the ticket from Juleka's vanity (where an elegant and beflowered fascinator-sized top hat sat mocking his lack of proper headwear) and slipped it into the waistcoat pocket—Marinette had thought of everything.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" He asked Juleka as he passed the bathroom, still hesitant to leave her alone.

She shrugged against the porcelain. "I'll be fine… eventually. Take care of Mari."

"Call if you need anything." Luka slipped his phone into his back pocket—he didn't stand a chance of authenticity anyway—and dashed back toward the heart of the city to find Marinette. Hopefully, she would accept him as a stand-in for tonight.

Marinette had wrung a fistful of her cloak into a wrinkled mess. The sun was just beginning to set, and she was officially worried. What if something happened to Rose or Juleka? What if they needed her help with the clothes? They had all been tried on a week ago in the safety of her room, so she knew they fit. Juleka shouldn't need help with her suit, and Rose had sworn her mom would be home to do up her dress laces.

She spun in another circle, slowly this time, scanning all incoming streets for her friends, stopping short when she spotted a tall figure in a suit with tails and immediately relaxed for just a second before she realized that it was not Juleka. No fascinator, too broad at the shoulders, and the gait was all wrong. He moved more like—

"Luka?"

Blue hair danced over worried eyes and Juleka's velvet coat, which was straining over Luka's broader shoulders. While the fit was… less than ideal to her practiced eye, he looked good—despite the black jeans and boots. Marinette had rarely seen him so dressed up. "What are you doing here? Where's Jules?"

Luka took her hand with a wincing smile, and she tried not to let her worry escalate. He wouldn't be here in tails if something truly dire had happened.

"Jules and Rose got sick—food poisoning—and they're down for the count. They both plan to make it for the tea tomorrow; they tried to make it tonight, which is why you didn't hear from them before you left."

"Oh." Marinette frowned. She was missing something. Why was he wearing Juleka's suit to deliver a message? "Is she okay?"

Luka grimaced. "She should be in a few hours."

Marinette glanced down the road where he'd come from with a worried frown. "Does she need someone to take care of her?"

"Ma's there by now."

That was good. Marinette nodded. "Okay, then."

Luka held out his elbow with a lopsided grin. "I know I'm hardly a Regency fashion plate, but I'd love to escort you to the ball if you don't mind a proxy."

Marinette's heart fluttered like Luka's half-tied cravat. "You want to take me to the ball?"

Luka indicated his outfit. "I mean, this might be better suited to delivering pizzas, but that wouldn't be nearly as much fun."

The pieces fell into place. He'd ditched work, squeezed himself into most of Juleka's regency suit, and come all this way to do more than deliver a message. He'd come to rescue her from standing alone on a street corner and take her to a dance. She smiled up at him and accepted his elbow with a gloved hand.

"I don't know—I think you look very dashing, and I'd love to have you as my escort, Luka." Her heart sped up at the smile he gave her. If only she had the words to tell him just how glad she was to be on his arm tonight—that his attention was like a dream, or a fairy tale come true.

Luka took in the low-lit but sparkling ballroom as they entered. A string quartet was playing softly in the far corner; there were flowers and artfully draped swathes of light chiffon and heavy velvet everywhere. He let Marinette lead him to the cloakroom, where she swept her cloak off her shoulders with a flourish to hand it over the counter to the smiling attendant. Luka had to snap his mouth shut when he caught the first glimpse of her gown. He was stunned. Her ballgown was a lot different from the modest tea dresses he'd seen on Jules and Rose. The material was finer, with a sheen that caught the soft lighting. But it wasn't just the shimmering pink fabric that he noticed; the cut was more daring, displaying an expanse of neck and throat and soft swells that made his mouth go dry. Suddenly, he was more than glad that he had stepped in tonight.

A spark of guilt invaded his mind at the thought of Juleka being sick at home, but he was happy to be here with Marinette tonight. And with her beyond resplendent in her evening gown, he was doubly grateful that she wasn't here without friends or a chaperone. He couldn't help but wish his attire could live up to the picture she painted. More than anything, he wished that they looked like they belonged together, even if they weren't together like he had never stopped hoping they could be.

He cast about, looking for the right words to compliment her, words that would suit the occasion, like stunning or exquisite or—she turned to him with a smile so radiant he could barely breathe. "You look absolutely ravishing, Marinette."

A blush crawled up her neck to dust her cheeks, and Luka wondered what she was thinking. "Thank you. Would you mind if I—" She indicated his cravat, and he felt his face heat.

"Please. I was going to try, but I didn't want to leave you alone for any longer than you'd already been waiting."

Marinette laughed as she stepped closer to deftly work the swath of silk around his neck. "I do appreciate that—I was starting to worry—Jules and I spent the last two weeks practicing this knot until we both understood it. I'd still be wondering what happened to the girls if you'd sorted this first."

Luka chuckled; she was probably right. "I am fairly handy with knots, but I'll admit to rarely tying them in silk."

"There." Marinette let go of him and stepped back to survey her work. "Now, you're perfect."

He didn't argue with her—they both knew it wasn't true—but if she thought he looked acceptable enough to escort her, he wasn't about to complain.

She straightened her already perfect gown and threw her shoulders back, lifting her head like the diamond of the ball she was, and nodded towards the festivities. "Shall we?"

Luka grinned and moved to offer her his arm. "Wait. I know you want to enjoy the authentic experience, but can I take a selfie before we go in? I want to remember tonight in twenty-first-century imagery."

Marinette giggled, her eyes lighting up as she nodded. "I had already prepared myself for Rose wanting pictures of everything. I just—I want to experience most of it in the moment."

"I'll be good once we make our entrance. Promise."

It was easy to grab a vantage point that showed the general splendor behind them, but Luka's thumb slid over the photo button a second too early, and he ended up with several shots in a row. One of them was the traditional "smile for the camera" moment. But the first one, where Marinette wasn't quite in place, had caught her looking at him with an expression so soft and adoring that Luka almost forgot how to breathe. She was looking at him the way he imagined he looked at her. A thread of hopefulness that he hadn't felt since Marinette and Adrien had first broken up (after only dating for a few months) tightened and tugged at his heart as he stared at the photo.

"Coming?"

"Yes!" He dropped his phone into his pocket and held his arm out for Marinette to lead her into the ballroom to make their entrance.

"What first?" Luka asked as they joined the rest of the glittering attendees in the opulent space.

Marinette scanned the room and indicated a photo station. An antique accordion-style camera was set up opposite the musicians. A puff of smoke and a flash went off, causing Marinette to squeeze his arm as she jumped. "We should have our photo taken before it gets too crowded and then check the refreshment table."

"You know that camera is as nearly as inauthentic as my phone, right?"

Marinette turned and glowered at him, pressing a gloved hand over his lips. "Hush. Yes, I know—but they are trying. The photo stations are why I left my phone at home. Look around. How much different would it feel if everyone had cell phones out tonight?"

With her hand over his mouth, Luka couldn't answer. He didn't think about it at all, just pressed his lips to her fingertips in the approximation of a kiss—wishing wholeheartedly that she wasn't wearing gloves. He grinned when she blushed and snatched her hand back quickly.

"You're right. I'll keep my traitorous thoughts about era-specific decor and inventions to myself and let you enjoy the magic of the event at hand." Marinette grinned, but he held his hand up. "But I don't want to hear a single complaint about any of the costumes. Most people don't have your skill or talent."

Marinette's eyes grew wide as she looked around the room. Luka waited for her verdict.

"Alright. I guess that's fair. But I get to whine about some of them later to Rose and Juleka, and you can't complain if you overhear."

"Deal." Luka led her to the camera, where they watched small groups and couples pose while they waited. "What about dancing? Don't I have to claim certain dances on your card or something?"

A look of pleased surprise danced across Marinette's features. "You want to dance with me?"

He gestured to his borrowed finery. "I didn't come to a ball to not dance." Luka watched a variety of expressions play across her face before she reached into her purse thing—reticule?—and pulled out a folded card with an elastic loop attached.

"The girls and I have spent weeks learning some of these dances, I don't know if—"

Luka leaned over and tapped a couple of the songs on the card. "Juleka made me practice with her. I know the same ones you do, plus I can lead a basic waltz well enough to make you look good."

Marinette stared at him, oddly speechless. He tried not to let it go to his head

Marinette couldn't breathe. Luka had shown up at the last minute to take her to the regency ball of her dreams. Luka had learned the dances. Luka was perfect, and she was an idiot—or had been two years ago—and now he was waiting for an answer, and she had lost her ability to function. She didn't deserve any of this. She didn't deserve him.

Luka drew her a few steps forward as the short line for photos shifted. "So, how many dances can I claim without causing a scandal or ending up with us engaged or married or something?"

Was that an option? Right now, she honestly didn't think she would mind. Her response came out more breathless than she had intended. "How many do you want?"

Luka's slow grin nearly stopped her heart as quickly as his silly question had loosened her tongue. "I'll take whatever you want to give me, Mari."

Her heart pounded in her chest, but she managed to keep up her end of the conversation. "Then I guess we'll have to be a little scandalous. I was going to take turns with Rose and Jules—we might have been planning on being a little dramatic when Rose and I danced, leaving Jules to play the part of the jealous suitor."

Luka laughed. "Musicians can be dramatic bitches."

Amused, yet also appalled by his language, Marinette gasped and pressed her fingertips over his mouth to demonstrate her disapproval. But before she could scold him properly, Luka pressed a quick kiss to her gloved fingers, and she snatched her hand away, trying to quell the heat rising in her cheeks.

Luka winked and returned his focus back to her dance card. "Sorry, I'll be good."

Marinette watched as he scrawled his name in several spots on her card. When he handed it back, she looked at him in surprise. "Seven dances?"

"Is that too many?"

She smiled. "No… but I didn't practice the waltz at all. We weren't sure it was going to be included. Waltzes were a little controversial at the time."

"I'll count for you, and if you want, you can stand on my feet."

Marinette laughed, leaning into him. "That would be scandalous!"

Luka's hold on her tightened slightly, keeping her close. "More scandalous than seven dances?"

She shrugged. "Honestly, the idea of anything more than two dances being reason enough for gossip is ludicrous. We might as well have fun. It isn't as if we actually have to worry about offending the 'ton' or watching our reputations."

Luka nodded. "As pretty as you look in that dress, there is a lot to be said for the modern world."

Marinette snapped her fan against his arm. "Just not tonight."

"Right."

The queue opened up to reveal the waiting photographer, and Luka held his arm out with a courtly bow. "After you, Miss Dupain-Cheng."

Marinette took her place with a polite dip of her own. She was thrilled that Luka was here and willing to play along without making her feel like a frivolous little girl. When Rose had first seen news regarding the upcoming regency event—and easily roped her and Juleka into it—the others (especially the boys) at their lunch table had not been impressed with the idea, flatly turning them down when they offered to include them. Luka had been out sick that day, Marinette suddenly remembered. Would he have wanted to come if he'd been there in the planning stages? Why hadn't they invited him?

The photographer arranged them in a classically polite pose, carefully highlighting Marinette's dress by bringing her slightly in front of Luka while nudging a small potted fern into place to obscure Luka's boots.

She felt him flinch at her side, where he had a loose grasp on her elbow. His voice was a contrite whisper. "Sorry, I hope I don't ruin your photo."

Marinette tutted at him; she didn't want him to think she didn't want him here. "Shush. You're perfect." She could almost feel him smile; the air around them seemed to warm into something rosy and romantic. Happiness bled through her thoughts, and she was sure her own smile was too big to look anything like the demure lady she was trying to emulate.

Pop!

Flash!

The photographer dismissed them with a nod and a wave, so they headed towards the refreshments to wait for the dancing to begin.

Dancing with Marinette was exhilarating. Luka felt a twinge of guilt at the thrill—he only knew how to do this because Juleka had insisted he practice with her, and she was missing all the fun—but he relished every smile Mari threw his way and admired the way her curls bounced over her shoulder as they moved through the steps. Juleka had mentioned that it had taken Marinette a while to stop tripping over her feet, but he would never have known it by watching her now. Her eyes glowed, and the steps that led her into a spin turned her smiles into giggles. She was radiant.

Their third dance came to an end with a bow and a curtsy. Marinette was breathing fast, so Luka led her safely to the edge of the dance floor. The next number was a cotillion, and after watching Juleka make one attempt at learning it, he knew they didn't want to get dragged into the difficult steps. "Want me to fetch you a glass of punch or lemonade or something?"

With shining eyes and flushed cheeks, Marinette nodded at him. "Thanks, Luka."

He threaded his way through old and young attendees, all here for similar reasons and with varying levels of commitment. The book and movie enthusiasts were gushing over or criticizing decor details, the more dramatically-minded people were recreating scenes from who-knows-what, and the cosplayers or fashion gurus like Marinette were dressed to the nines and admiring the handiwork of their friends or rivals. Sweet older couples seemed blissfully unaware as they danced or spoke quietly together, enjoying the extravagant night out.

Refreshments were laid out as splendidly as everything else, and Luka found both a fruit or berry punch of some kind and lemonade. He grabbed a glass of each so Marinette could choose whichever she preferred. He would have brought back a snack as well, but lacked the hands for it. He pivoted carefully, skirting the edge of the dance floor to avoid spilling anything as he made his way back to his date. His thoughts tumbled, skittering over the thought of Marinette as his date. It felt like a date. But he hadn't asked her out any more than she had asked him. He shoved the thought away and scanned the room for Marinette. With all the movement and dancing, he had gotten turned around.

His eyes roved the room, glancing from one pink gown to the next. There. Luka worked his way past a few clusters of people to find Mari frowning at a well-coiffed dark-haired man who had his hand on her dance card.

"I told you, my card is full."

The man—who Luka had to admit was dressed very well, if a little more dandified than he would ever have been willing to agree to—leaned closer to Marinette. "There are loads of open spaces here. Surely you can spare one for me."

Luka took a deep breath before stepping closer. He wasn't about to ruin Marinette's evening by flying off the handle.

Marinette held her ground. "I don't know those dances, and I have no intention of tripping everyone else up to appease your vanity in an attempt to fake it."

Luka sidled up to them, basking in the joy that crossed Marinette's features when she spotted him. He did his best to follow the theme of the evening with his next words. "Your beverage, Miss Dupain-Cheng."

"Thank you, Mister Couffaine." Mari took the dark berry colored drink from his hand—he wasn't surprised by her choice. Marinette almost always went for the sweetest option.

Luka turned his attention to the brown-haired fop. "And you are?"

"None of your concern, I'm sure. I am simply asking the lady for a dance."

Luka bristled; the man had already gone past asking and was pushing. "I do believe the lady gave you her reply. If you choose not to respect her wishes, then it is my concern."

He had no idea if he was maintaining the integrity of the event correctly or not, but he wasn't about to let some over-eager jackass harass Marinette while he was around to do something about it. He was probably supposed to smack the guy with a glove or something equally banal, but Marinette was the only one of the two of them who had that particular accessory this evening.

Luka watched a little triumphantly as the man turned to stalk off and found Marinette staring at him with wide eyes. The hand that clutched her fan was planted over her heart. "Are you okay? Did I overstep?"

She shook her head. "That was… you were…Luka. You're the best date in the whole world. That's the second time you saved me tonight."

Luka felt a wellspring of hope blossom deep within him, and he smiled widely. She called him her date. And while he hardly thought she had needed saving, he couldn't help but feel a measure of pride that Mari appreciated his efforts to the extent that she did. "Anytime you need me, I'm yours."

Luka took a sip of his lemonade, giving Marinette a chance to do the same while they both calmed down from her encounter. He smiled over his cup when he caught her looking at him, when she blushed through a return smile without looking away, Luka decided that tonight was a gift. He wasn't exactly sure where it was going to lead, but he wasn't going to sweep any of these moments under the rug once the world returned to normal. There were promises in the blue eyes he loved so much, and as soon as Marinette's whirlwind weekend was over, he would find out exactly what she wanted from him and offer her as much of him as she wanted.

Luka watched a group of drama students making rounds; they kept stopping to visit with different couples or guests, and each time left them writhing in laughter or false shock. He'd almost bet his guitar that they were doing dramatic bits to make the evening seem that much more immersive. They were probably having a blast coaxing reactions from random people while practicing their improv skills.

Luka moved to intercept Mari where she was returning with a small plate of hors d'oeuvres, but the drama students got to her first and immediately launched into whatever they had prepared. Luka wasn't sure if she had realized what they were up to yet. They had been dancing and trying dainty desserts more than talking about other guests. He arrived just in time to overhear a blond woman all but gushing at Marinette in a very Rose-like manner.

"I must congratulate you on your recent engagement!"

"What?" Marinette asked in surprise when the woman clutched her arm and grinned at her.

"You've been dancing with the same gentleman all night long, there can be only one possible explanation."

Marinette's penchant for stuttering while she tried to find the right words fed right into their dramatic machinations. "No. I mean. He's not, I certainly wouldn't mi… but no. That is to say, we don't have an understanding."

It took a second for her to find the regency-appropriate response, and Luka couldn't speak because it had sounded like she wouldn't have minded if they were more than friends. But the girl who had approached Marinette was no stranger to harnessing whatever words were given to her for the most dramatic response.

"No understanding?! And yet you've let him single you out all evening long, while making no secret of your feelings for him? Darling, you must take care. You know how people like to talk. You certainly don't want anyone accusing you of inappropriate behaviour."

Marinette paled a little as the people around them turned to watch the little display, and Luka took a gentle hold of her elbow to let her know he was there. The blonde flounced away with a wink and smirk, leaving Marinette to watch her go.

Luka leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Don't mind her. She and her friends have been getting a rise out of anyone who will play along."

Marinette must not have been listening because she didn't react until the woman was out of sight. She glanced at Luka and back around the ballroom.

Marinette watched the blonde flounce away before she responded to Luka. "I have half a mind to kiss you right here and rethread their ideas of appropriate. They want a scandal? I could give them a scandal," she muttered darkly.

It would be the least of her reasons for kissing Luka, but it was tempting no matter what spin she put on it. But only if it wasn't only for spite.

Luka looked at her quickly. His eyebrows were lost in the hair that refused to stay back, no matter how many times he ran his hands through it.

He only hesitated for a second. "So do you, or don't you want to do something completely scandalous?"

She couldn't blame him for wondering; she had started out planning to embrace the ball and all that it stood for, but kept having too much fun defying the status quo with Luka to fully commit to the standards of the time.

Luka was standing close to her, and it was hard to think about anything other than the way his hair fell over his eyes, and his earnest attention kept straying to her lips. "That depends."

He held her gaze, and she waited with bated breath. "Depends on what?"

She gathered her courage to answer him, feeling as if her heart might end up permanently lodged in her throat. "On whether or not you think bad timing deserves a second chance or not."

"Bad timing?" Luka's eyebrows knit together.

Marinette tugged at the fingertips of her gloves. "Back when I had that stupid crush on Adrien, and you asked me out anyway. I was too confused to see what was right in front of me. But now…"

Luka captured her fingers in his hand, and she looked back up at him. "Now?"

"I've done a lot of stupid things in my life, but I only have one regret, Luka." She reached up, but chickened out before cupping his jaw, and ran a hand along the lapel of his coat instead.

"Is it too late?" She looked down quickly, bracing for the worst, "It's okay if it is."

Luka glanced around, and in a quick and unfairly smooth move, he shrugged his restrictive coat off and spun her away from the crowd around the camera and into the curved doorway of a little windowed alcove. In a move that was too much like something from a romance novel, Marinette found herself backed into the arched wall and Luka leaning in, pinning her with his gaze. "Marinette. I'm never going to love anyone else the way I have loved you—the way I still do. I don't want to."

She smiled as giddiness and relief flooded her nervous system, but her emotions were running haywire. She could feel her legs trembling under the layers of skirts and petticoats. "So… You believe in second chances?"

Luka chuckled. "Would I be here, with you, wearing Juleka's clothes if I didn't?"

No, he probably would not. Joy thrummed through her veins, and Marinette let go of her fears to lean forward just enough to press her lips against his. They had already danced together six times; if she had already managed to scandalize everyone at the ball, then there was every reason to make the most of it.

Dimly, she heard the pop and flash of the camera across the room as it cut through the romantic tones of the cello and violins, but even that faded when Luka returned the kiss, capturing her face with a hand that was so warm she had a feeling she would never forget exactly how this moment felt.

Chapter Text

"You want to explain this?"

Luka groaned as sunlight hit him in the face along with Juleka's demands. He squeezed his eyes closed in an attempt to reclaim the dream he'd been enjoying. Marinette in his arms, asking about second chances and holding him close by the lapel while he claimed her lips.

Luka moaned as the dream faded. As a rule, he didn't wear lapels. However, he would happily change that if it meant kissing Marinette.

"Luka! What happened last night? You were supposed to escort her to the dance, not cause a scandal by making out with her!"

Wisps of dreams that might be memories were scattered as Juleka's words broke the last claim sleep had on him. How the hell did Juleka know about that kiss?

"What?" He rolled over, dragging his eyelids open to see Juleka with her phone in hand.

She shoved it in his face. He blinked, rubbing his bleary eyes until he could see. There was a fancy monogrammed logo above a black and white photo of Marinette in his arms. His jacket was hanging from his elbow—a dark spot against the lightness of Marinette's dress—which didn't mask the way she was arching into him. And they were clearly kissing. He grinned slowly. Best not-a-dream ever.

They had danced their seventh dance after that kiss before he walked her home. He'd kissed her again at her doorstep. It was still killing him that she was completely booked—with his sister, no less—this weekend. He would have to wait before they could finish discussing… them. He was pretty sure they were a "them" now.

Juleka pulled her phone back and began to read the article aloud.

"The Paris Regency and Dramatic Society is pleased to announce that the inaugural event of the Regency Weekend, the Pemberly Ball, was a brilliant success. Not only were we delighted by the dress and society, but we are keen to share a dram of drama that seems to be unfolding in our midst."

Luka blinked at Juleka. Her shock was turning into a disconcerting sort of smile that made him nervous as she continued reading with an arched brow.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng was seen by a large portion of those in attendance, allowing rather intimate attentions from an unknown fellow who appears to have gained entry to the soiree through the use of Miss Juleka Couffaine's invitation. Miss Couffaine was, however, not in attendance. We can only guess the nature of the young man's intentions toward the lovely Miss Dupain-Cheng, and look forward to seeing what sort of news this afternoon's garden tea brings."

The tea was today, and all eyes would be on Marinette after that article. Luka glanced at Juleka; she was still waiting for a response.

He grabbed the phone and scrolled down. Juleka had read everything about him and Marinette, but there were a handful of stories about various other attendees, though none were quite as theatrical as theirs had been. He handed the phone back with a sigh. Half exasperation and half fond memory.

"We danced. I defended her honor… she said something about second chances and I took one."

"By sucking face in front of the camera?"

Luka nearly choked. "I didn't—we didn't suck face, Jules. It was a kiss." An amazing first kiss and even better second kiss…but he had been respectful, damn it. "I moved us away from the crowd… But I guess we might have been across from the photo area."

Juleka rolled her eyes at him. "Now what?"

Luka blinked at his sister—it was too early for twenty questions. "Now what, what?"

"Are you just going to leave her to fend off the drama vultures?"

He groaned. The dramatic society appeared to have a much larger stake in the weekend than any of them had expected.

"What can I do?" The full Regency Experience had sold out before he had even learned of their plans, and he could hardly borrow Juleka's tea dress to woo Marinette. Besides—"She won't be alone. You and Rose are going today, right? You feel better?"

Juleka nodded. "I still feel a little weak, but I'm going to take it easy until it's time to dress and go. I do not want to miss any more than I have already."

Despite dismissing Juleka's concerns about the tea, Luka couldn't get her voice out of his head. Maybe there was something he could do.

Marinette stared at the article gracing the PRaDS website in shock. How had they managed to turn the camera around and capture that photo before their kiss ended? It had just been a kiss—perfectly exquisite, stuff-dreams-are-made-of kiss… and then a second lingering—okay. There had been time. She honestly didn't mind the photo so much as the fact that it was on the website, but she had signed a general waiver so the event photos could be used in publicity brochures for the Society. Not that she had expected this kind of publicity.

She scrolled down to see that they had posted a copy of the posed photo as well, pointing out her mystery gentleman. Marinette sighed; she had wanted to go, to enjoy the costumes and the food, not to be a spectacle for the dramatic society! And now, everyone would be watching her with mock pity or scorn when Luka wasn't in attendance at the tea, instead of noticing the hard work she had put into the dresses.

She texted Juleka and Rose—both were feeling better—they would all meet up to get ready and walk to the park together. Her pale blue cotton voile tea dress was simpler than the pink silk she had made for the ball. Cut a little more modestly, and light enough for a summer afternoon, but it was still pretty; she suddenly wished Luka could see her in it. She had liked the way he looked at her last night, and she wanted to take his breath away again. And maybe she wouldn't mind putting the silly, contrived rumors to rest. Musicians and drama students were so dramatic—and people called her over the top!

In the end, she supposed it didn't matter. Once the event was over, Luka would take her out on a real date, and she could live out their little fantasy in the real world. If only last night hadn't been so perfect, it would have been easier to give up the idea of Luka escorting her for the rest of the weekend.

It was a terrible plan, but Luka didn't care. He'd had to swap a few work shifts and promise a few favors to make it possible, but he wouldn't be leaving Marinette hanging. The full event tickets had sold out ages ago, but he managed to score an à la carte ticket to the final event—the symphony. And thanks to Juleka's invitation, he knew when and where the tea was to be held. Tickets were sold out, but it would be held on one side of a large park where there were more than a few entrances. Luka happened to know of one or two sparse hedges where he could slip through if necessary. Maybe crashing a Regency tea was foolhardy, but if the dramatic society wanted drama, he would be happy to give it to them.

All he needed now was help with his costume. He hesitated for only one more second before knocking on Brielle's door. This was the terrible part: Bri would be able to help him find the best options at second-hand stores to make his plan work, but there was one major hiccup in his plan.

His best friend.

"Oi! What are you doing slinking around here, mate?"

Dingo threw an arm around his shoulders while Brielle rolled her eyes behind him. Bri had agreed to help him, but warned that Dingo was already at hers—he would have to take her help with a large side of his best friend's malarky.

"Get off." Luka shrugged, escaping Ding's clutches. "Bri's taking me shopping."

Ding slung his arm around him again, catching Bri on the other side in a slightly closer, gentler hold. "Can't wait to see this!"

Luka couldn't wait until it was over. Love truly did make idiots out of men.

Ding had helped. Not on purpose, of course. But Brielle had snatched one of his more outlandish finds out of his hands and declared it perfect. Luka had reservations, but there was no way he could do this on his own. Without Marinette to help him—and he wasn't about to throw a wrench in her weekend—Brielle was his best bet.

"Trust me on this one."

Luka eyed the powder blue suit jacket doubtfully. It screamed 70's, even if the color would work for an outdoor tea. "I don't know, Bri. It's awfully… awful."

"Well, sure it is now. But we can make it better. I'm no Marinette, but my glue gun can handle whatever I can't sew. Just don't let Marinette look too closely, I'm not looking for a lecture or another sewing lesson."

Luka hesitated. Chances were that Marinette would want to know how he'd come up with it so fast. "I don't know…"

Brielle put her hand on her hip in a no-nonsense pose. "Look, it's cheap, we can hack it up, glue it, and call it disposable. You only need it to work once."

He didn't have a better option, other than walking away from the whole thing, so he grabbed the jacket and added it to the linen trousers and basic black oxfords he'd found.

"I need a shirt."

"You have dress shirts. You need a waistcoat, or the jacket will look like a 70s survivor," Brielle countered.

Luka scowled at the jacket. "I don't have a shirt that will match that."

"It doesn't need to match, it needs to coordinate. Dark blue would be best, but black will work, and I know you have something you've worn for school recitals and programs." Luka nodded. That was true enough.

An exultant crow echoed through the second-hand shop, startling Luka and exasperating Brielle. She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. She shook her head in mock exasperation. "I can't take him anywhere."

Luka couldn't hold back a snort at Brielle's expense. Dingo was a handful as a friend, but at least he wasn't dating him.

Ding strode across the store wearing a top hat and some sort of grandiose red and gold patterned robe that trailed behind him. Beaneath the robe, he was wearing a gold sequined vest and dark green platform shoes made from shiny pleather.

"Check me out, mates! I'm the grand poo-bah of the high-falutin' muckety-mucks!"

Luka laughed outright. Ding looked ridiculous, but when Brielle didn't join in, he glanced at her curiously.

She was staring at Dingo intently. "You need that hat."

Luka looked again. It wasn't a shintzy costume piece. Ding had managed to find a high-quality used top hat.

Dingo shook his head and took a step back. "Nah, mate. Finder's keepers. I'm wearing this everywhere." He pulled it straight up off his head, revealing his still-intact mohawk. The green of his hair clashed garishly with the robe, but something about the action reminded Luka of Tom Dupain revealing one of his baked masterpieces. "It's perfect."

Brielle scowled at them, and Luka jumped to appease both his friends. He still needed her help to sort the jacket.

"I'll split the cost with you, Dingo. Let me use it for two days, then it's yours."

Dingo sighed, looked at the tag, then shrugged. "I've gone this long without it... Guess I can wait a bit longer. You're on."

They finally found a waistcoat that both fit, and he didn't hate. It was a pearly sort of silver that Brielle said would work with the blue for the tea and his black suit for the symphony.

The stupid top hat cost as much as everything else combined—including the two "silk" scarves Brielle had insisted could be tied like cravats, one paisley blue, and the other plain white—and Luka was thankful Ding was covering half of it. At least he could get away with wearing his regular black suit to the symphony. The shoes, hat, and "cravat" would dress it up well enough.

By the time they made it back to the Liberty, Juleka had left to get ready with Rose and Marinette, and there was only a little over an hour until the tea began.

Brielle set straight to work on the jacket with scissors, a needle and thread, and her glue gun while Luka quickly showered and pulled himself together. He grabbed the paisley scarf and his phone to follow a "simple" YouTube cravat tutorial. It took him nearly twenty-five minutes and three tries to get it right. Dingo spent the whole time parading around the boat in his new "finery" and making edicts about how Luka should conduct himself at the tea. Luka tuned him out after a suggestion to pick Marinette up and run off with her, cackling like a villain.

He was about to fold his navy shirt collar down over the scarf when Bri scared the shit out of him by breaking her focused silence.

"Don't!"

He whirled on her. "What?"

"Leave the collar up. Didn't you look at the picture I showed you?"

He had, but hated the way it felt under his jaw. No wonder fashion had changed. Progress was a wonderful thing. He frowned, and the collar seemed to tighten.

"It's for Marinette."

He hated that it was so easy for Brielle to taunt him, but damn if it didn't work.

"Here." She shoved the altered jacket at him. She had removed several inches from the lower half of the front, but left the length at the back, giving it the look of tails and that strange, short front that was in all the illustrations they had found online.

He pulled the jacket on over the shirt and the silvery gray waistcoat they'd found. A look in Juleka's mirror showed that the powder blue was the perfect shade to lighten the soft gray and the dark blue shirt. Bri had done a remarkable job with the coat—he could only tell it was glued because he knew to look.

"All the buttons," Bri insisted.

He worked on the awkward double-breasted buttons to appease her while she smacked Dingo on the head. "Hat. Now."

With the top hat, the look was complete. All the individual pieces seemed to blur into one ensemble that looked remarkably like one of the regency renderings they had been working from.

"You'll do. Now you'd better go."

Luka glanced at his phone. He had ten minutes to make it across town to the park. He would be late, but only by a little.

"Oi!" Ding grabbed him with a grin. "Picture or it didn't happen."

Brielle huffed, but she was smiling when Dingo snapped a selfie of the three of them. Bri looked like her usual self, Ding looked insane in his outlandish getup, and Luka looked like he'd stepped through a time portal. It was a pretty good photo, all things considered.

"Thanks, I couldn't have done this without you."

Bri shrugged. "You haven't done it yet. Go."

Dingo waggled his eyebrows. "Right you are, mate! The grand poobah gets it done."

Luka was smiling as he made his parting shot on his way out. "I was talking to Bri."

Ding grinned. "Yeah, well, she already knows she's amazing."

Luka left, but he could have sworn Bri almost blushed before the door closed between them.

"Tell us everything."

Marinette blushed at the very thought of sharing anything, let alone everything. The hatch hadn't even closed before Rose pounced on her, demanding information.

Juleka wasn't any help. "And we already know you're sorry we had to miss it, and you clearly weren't miserable without us, so skip all that. How did you end up as the center of this year's Regency gossip?"

"I want details!" Rose begged.

Juleka wrinkled her nose. "About the dance. Not about kissing my brother."

Rose practically growled at Jules, whose face turned faintly pink at the display. "I want details about everything."

"If you want to know anything, you're going to have to sit and listen while we work on our hair. And you're going to have to deal with me gushing about Luka a little. He was amazing last night." Marinette answered with a stern smile.

Juleka sat—she had the most hair—and Rose and Marinette moved in to get started pinning and curling.

"I was just getting worried that something terrible had happened…"

Juleka carefully pinned up Marinette's hair, adding little sprigs of blue flowers that popped against her dark tresses, while Marinette continued her story. Rose had sunk into a heap of floor pillows with a sigh (and become completely useless) as soon as Marinette got to the part where Luka came striding through the dusky evening to deliver their message and escort her to the dance.

"There was this guy, who didn't even bother to introduce himself, let alone find someone to introduce us. Anyway, he wanted me to dance with him even though Luka had already claimed all the dances I knew. It was so frustrating! He wouldn't take no for an answer, but Luka—"

"Yeeeeees?!" Rose interjected excitedly.

"He sent him packing with a few choice words. It was so gallant of him."

Rose fell back into the pillows with a squeal, and Juleka groaned. "So that's what he meant when he said he defended your honor," Juleka murmured around a mouthful of bobby pins.

"What else did Luka tell you?" Marinette gasped, turning her head to look at her friend.

"Hold still. I'm almost done."

Marinette settled back into her seat and waited.

"Not much. Luka wouldn't kiss and tell. Not that he had to with that photo. He said you danced, he defended your honor, and that when you spoke of second chances, he decided to make his move."

"That is sooooo romantic!" Rose gushed from her spot on the floor. "Second chances and first kisses!! Wait! It was your first kiss, yours and Luka's, right?"

Marinette nodded, and Juleka "tsked" at her; she froze in apology. "The last time we tried dating, it didn't get that far, or we kept getting interrupted. The timing was just all bad the whole time… I really hope that this is the chance we get to take."

"I'm sure it will be," Rose said.

"There. Your hair is perfect. Rose, get up here."

Marinette helped sort out the undergarments and gowns so they would be easy to slip into. Rose's short locks just needed a little styling before her flower crown, then it would be all laces and finishing touches.

Eventually, they were tea-party ready. Their clothes were perfectly suited to the day. Rose wore pink muslin shot through with silver. Juleka had agreed to wear lavender, but all the trim was a deep plum that bordered on black, including the single large black iris tucked into her hair. Marinette had left the pink to Rose and gone with a blue and white cotton voile that left her feeling like she was part of a cloud. A sprig of forget-me-nots was pinned to her blue sash to match the blooms in her hair.

They all knew to watch for the blond drama student who seemed dead set on making mountains out of molehills for her own enjoyment as well as for the sake of publicity for the event.

"But what do we do if she tries to stir up drama?" Marinette asked. "I'm awful at improv."

"That's easy," Rose said with a grin.

Juleka snapped her fan open with a wicked smile. "I kiss the everliving daylights out of Rose and make you yesterday's news."

Rose beamed. "I can't wait!"

It was a good thing that Luka knew his way around the park. He had no hope of getting in through the well-guarded main entrances without a ticket. He had to work his way around the hedgerows until he spotted the trio of ladies in pink, purple, and blue. He'd seen Juleka's dress and knew what to look for. They were close to a weak point in the hedge, he made a beeline for it so he could join them and—

The same blonde who had tried to bait them the night before sidled up to Marinette, teacup in hand, her voice pitched to carry across the lawn.

"Surely your mother warned you not to be too forthcoming with gentlemen before you're properly engaged. After your affectionate display last night, it is rather shocking to see you without your mysterious escort this afternoon. Still, I think you deserved better than to be dropped so quickly!"

Heads turned toward the show, and Marinette instantly blushed. Thankfully, she didn't have to fend for herself. She was flanked by Rose and Jules, who quickly bristled on their friend's behalf.

Not waiting to see what came next, Luka shoved his way through the shrubbery, nearly landing at Marinette's feet before steadying himself and righting his hat. It might be a bit much, but he wasn't about to let anyone suggest his affection for Marinette was anything less than serious. Dramatic society be damned, they could have their fun at someone else's expense.

He bowed, just like Brielle had instructed. A greeting and apology in one. Intentionally avoiding the blonde, he spoke earnestly to Marinette, "You must know, Marinette, that I have every intention of courting you. It was never my goal to see you shunned by polite society."

The blonde actress turned to him with gleaming eyes. "So, you do intend to marry Miss Dupain-Cheng?!"

It wasn't music, but playacting was fun. He tilted his head toward Marinette with a grin. "All in due time, if she'll have me, that is."

Marinette blinked at him, silent for a second before she blurted a response. "I'm seventeen!"

He bit back a laugh at her consternation and remained as serious as he could. "I know. I've waited too long. Please allow me to court you, and make a gentleman out of me."

Marinette seemed frozen in place until Rose threw a hand to her forehead in apparent rapture and swooned, forcing Juleka to catch her. It bought the time Marinette needed to catch up and formulate a plan. Acting might not be her strong suit, but she was clever.

"I—I, of course, you can court me, Mister Couffaine. I would be delighted to receive you."

Luka grinned and pressed a quick kiss to her gloved fingertips. "Thank you, mademoiselle. It will be my greatest honor to earn your hand."

The handful of people around them tittered, offering a smattering of applause for their performance as the blonde sashayed away with a broad smile.

Unable to resist, Luka pressed a quick kiss to Marinette's cheek while she stared at him incredulously.

"What are you doing here?"

"Saving your reputation, of course." He paused, worried he'd overstepped. "Unless you want me to go. I thought that after that article, I should show up—but mostly I didn't want to wait until after the weekend to see you again."

Marinette's whole body relaxed as a slow smile spread across her lips. He must have said the right thing.

"You wanted to see me so much, you got all dressed up and crashed a regency tea?"

He nodded slowly. "I—yes. I did that."

Luka leaned closer, ignoring the stupid collar pressing against his neck. He wouldn't mind another kiss while he was here.

Marinette smiled, her eyes dropping to his lips for a second before she pressed her gloved fingers to his lips. "I thought you were here to mitigate the scandal."

He heard Juleka choke on a laugh, but ignored her and caught Marinette's wrist gently. With his free hand, he tugged her glove off before pressing a kiss to her bare fingertips. Instead of yanking her hand back like she had done at the ball, she sucked in a breath.

He winked. "Whatever you wish."

There was nothing quite like watching the delighted blush that spread across Marinette's face. He released her hand, giving her a moment to regain her composure.

Luka glanced around the lawn, other than a handful of distant musicians, and the faint sound of background Paris, the tea party was a quiet affair. Small clusters of people in light colors sipped from their cups and chatted quietly.

Juleka "revived" Rose before they joined them. Marinette took a sip of tea from a rose-patterned cup. Luka rocked back on his heels. "So… what do we do at a tea party?"

Juleka smacked him with her fan while Rose giggled. "You must be kidding me."

It became quickly apparent that a tea party was just tea. No dancing or entertainment, other than what he had managed to provide by way of drama. When he voiced his dismay at the lack, Marinette looped her arm through his with a soft smile. "Come on. I'll walk you to the refreshment table."

He smiled at the girl on his arm… maybe that was enough. She was enough. Marinette looked up at him with a smile and twinkle in her eyes that held the promise of tomorrows yet to come, and he knew she was more than enough.

To him, she was everything.

Chapter Text

"I can't believe you're here—and in a top hat." Tea and scones in hand, Marinette and Luka had found a shady spot for a tête-à-tête with what little privacy could be found on a sunny day surrounded by historical cosplayers.

Luka resisted the urge to steal a kiss. The adoring way Marinette was looking at him was giving him all sorts of ideas that weren't exactly regency-tea appropriate.

"After last night with you, and this morning's article, I could hardly stay away," Luka pointed out.

"Oh! That article. I can't believe they plastered us all over the internet." Marinette huffed.

"I didn't mind it all that much," Luka admitted.

"Why not?"

Luka set his tea down on a conveniently placed table and pulled her closer so he could whisper. "I thought it was a dream until I saw it on Jule's screen in black and white."

Marinette was suddenly very close. Impossibly close. "A-a dream?"

Luka nodded as the party went fuzzy around the edges, pulling Marinette into his arms and claiming her lips. "Don't you know by now that you're my dream come true, Marinette?" The shady tree at her back was perfect for pressing her against as his hands roamed—

"I can't believe you did it again!"

Once again, Luka was dragged from sleep—and a dream he wouldn't have minded finishing— by Juleka's voice as she intruded on his morning. The tea had been more than alright—being with Marinette made just about anything worth doing. His mind chased the final details of the dream version of the tea for a moment; his hands clenched around the blankets, but they were a poor substitute for Marinette. He sighed as the lingering feelings of the dream receded from his grasp. Unfortunately, the tea hadn't been quite that much fun in real life.

He groaned and rolled over, desperate to escape Juleka as she expressed her annoyance before reading the "news" from the previous day's Tea. He'd had to take a shift after the tea party and gotten home late, and since he had a late morning shift before the symphony later in the evening, he refused to open his eyes while Juleka read the bulletin.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng's mystery gentleman has been revealed to be none other than Mister Luka Couffaine, older brother to the lady's longtime friend, Miss Juleka Couffaine. He arrived at yesterday's tea in a shocking manner, bursting through a hedge, only to declare his affections and intentions for the lady quite publicly.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng was accompanied by Miss Couffaine and Miss Rose Lavillant. The latter was so overwrought by Mister Couffaine's overt display of affection that she was overcome by a fainting spell under the afternoon sun. We are pleased to report that she recovered quickly thanks to Miss Couffaine's ministrations. It has been determined that the gentleman in question has a ticket for tonight's symphony, where we shall be waiting to see if their story continues to unfold."

Juleka tsked at him before poking him in the back. "You're just lucky they didn't call you out for crashing the tea without a ticket."

Luka blinked his eyes open once silence had fallen, but he wasn't alone. Juleka glared at him as she set down her phone. He twisted, scooping it up to look at the black and white photo. The blonde actress had stopped to take a selfie after she had flounced away from them, and a 'swooning' Rose was visible in the background, but beyond that, it was easy to spot Luka and Marinette off to the side, where he was bent over her hand mid-kiss.

Juleka pinned him with her glare. "We had a plan, and you stole the spotlight."

Luka groaned. "You're the one who said I shouldn't leave her to the wolves."

"I did not." Juleka huffed.

Luka sat up and shrugged. She had said something about vultures—basically the same thing. "Okay, then. You implied it."

Juleka punched his shoulder lightly, falling onto his bed beside him. "You could have told me you were coming."

"Sorry. I wasn't sure it would work until it did. You know I didn't mean to thwart whatever you were going to do, right?"

She sighed resignedly. "I know. And you handled it well. I just wanted to do something for Rose. Make her swoon for us, you know?" She shrugged, but Luka could see the disappointment in her eyes.

"Want me to help you with something for tonight? I'm going, I already asked Marinette to let me escort her." He smiled at the memory of her brief kiss that had tasted even better than the hoped-for "yes." His dreams might have taken on a life of their own, but even those paled in comparison to the real thing.

"Okay. If you help me upstage you, then I'll forgive you."

For a moment, they both stared at each other. The silence tempted Luka to glance at his pillow, but Juleka spoke before he could act on it. "Well?"

"I'm thinking!" Luka grumbled; he was barely awake.

Juleka stood with a huff. "Get your brain in gear, I'm getting breakfast."

Luka stumbled out of bed and into jeans for work. Food would be good. Food and coffee.

Juleka shoved a croissant his way while he poured two cups of coffee, passing one to his sister.

"What's the name of the drama girl who keeps stirring things up at the events—or whoever is writing these bulletins?" Luka asked after swallowing a gulp of the bitter brew.

"I think they're the same person. Why?" Juleka's eyes narrowed, even as she scrolled through her phone to confirm her identity.

"Think about it. Drama seems to be a goal—good for event publicity and all that. If you have a way to contact her, maybe we can make an adjustment to tonight's program. A song, or at least a dedication to Rose."

Juleka's eyes widened before landing on her upright bass in the corner. She had been working on a special piece for a while. "If they allow it, will you accompany me?"

Luka nodded. He'd helped her write the violin piece; she'd hardly had to twist his arm to get him to join her—even if it meant giving up his spot next to Marinette for a portion of the performance. "Sure thing." He waited for a moment, sipping his coffee thoughtfully. Juleka looked excited, but nervous.

"You know it's okay to love quietly, right? Rose knows how you feel, and she loves you for you."

Juleka sighed wistfully, leaning over the countertop. "I know. Rose is bright and exuberant—everything I'm not. And that's okay, we balance each other… I know that she appreciates my dark quietness in the same way that I love her zest for life. But she deserves exuberant love sometimes. And that's what I want to do. Not all the time, but this time."

Smiling, Luka nodded, reaching over to tousle his sister's hair. She was a good sister, a good friend, and he was thankful that Rose knew how lucky she was to have her love. "Alright, let's see what we can do then."

Juleka shoved the phone in his face, the blonde prominently displayed next to the classic drama masks logo.

Lottie Lyon

3rd Year Theater Student at Cours Florent

[email protected]

Lottie Lyon has stepped up to work with PRaDS to make this year's regency experience a weekend to remember by adding a layer of drama and theatre to the usual lineup. While a dramatic element has always been a part of the Society, Mademoiselle Lyon has plans to cater to the younger, lycée and university-aged attendees, as new films and beautifully bound copies of Miss Austen's famous stories have gained popularity alongside television shows like Bridgerton and…

Luka skipped the rest of the blurb, scrolling down to find her phone number. Juleka was staring him down impatiently. He grabbed the phone to make the call. Juleka hated talking to strangers, and he had offered to help.

It went better than he had anticipated. Lottie was only too happy to indulge their plan.

"Monsieur Couffaine! It's so lovely to hear from you. What can I do for you?"

Luka hesitated for only a moment. "Listen, I know it's incredibly last-minute, but I was wondering if there was any way we could get a little stage time tonight—or perhaps a dedication."

"Stage time? That's a tall order. What did you have in mind?"

"My sister and I wrote a song for someone who will be in attendance tonight. We'd like to perform it if possible. If that's too much, Juleka would love to recognize her girlfriend somehow."

"Hmmm, so this isn't about you and Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng?"

Luka shook his head even though Lottie couldn't see him. "No, I'm playing wingman for my sister tonight." Not that she needed it, she and Rose were a solid couple, but that didn't mean they didn't enjoy romancing one another. "But if it helps, I will be escorting Marinette to the symphony tonight."

Lottie hummed through the phone, thinking. Luka waited patiently. He could hear the clack of a keyboard in the background. "Okay, here's the deal. I'll get you and your sister onstage tonight, but I want an interview with the four of you. I'd love to tie the whole story together for our final post, and while you aren't the only couple that has provided me with good material, you are a favorite."

"Don't you want to make sure we can play?"

She had laughed. "Oh, sweetie, it doesn't matter. Whether you fly or flop, this will be dramatic gold after the weekend we've had at your expense. You can text me at this number if anything changes, or if the rest of your party refuses to do the interview. Can we plan for Monday evening?"

Juleka nodded when Luka whispered the caveat. Rose wouldn't hesitate, and he was sure Marinette would be willing to help Juleka do something for Rose.

"Get your instruments to Le Trianon an hour before curtain call for a sound and logistics check. We'll get you sorted and fit you in right after intermission. If I don't see you on time, I can scrap it without impacting the evening."

Luka repeated her instructions out loud while Juleka scribbled them down. She was beaming. Jules was so happy with the outcome of the call that she didn't mind it when he had to leave for work, even offering to text Rose and Marinette to inform them that they would have to meet at the venue instead of meeting at the Liberty. Not that that kept him from calling Marinette on his break. He'd seen enough of Rose's rom-coms to know that it was dangerous to send word by someone else, and the last thing he wanted was a miscommunication about his desire to see her at the symphony.

Luka took his time after work getting ready. He showered and tamed his hair before putting on his black suit with the additional Brielle (and now Juleka) approved accessories that pushed it close enough toward a regency style to make it appropriate for the evening. For the first time that weekend, it hadn't felt like he was flying by the seat of his pants.

Juleka nodded once. "Well, it's not a Marinette original, but you'll do."

He barely noticed the compliment. Juleka was wearing a Marinette original, and she looked incredible. The empire-waisted evening gown was all smooth silver and rich purple. The silver caught the light when she moved, shimmering and dancing as it shifted in and out of shadow. Her dark curls stood out in contrast perfectly, making her look like a dark socialite bent on overthrowing the ton.

He tried to keep it light; the last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm her. "Rose is going to be blown away by you tonight, Jules."

"Yeah?"

"Well, you are wearing a Marinette original."

Juleka smiled softly, but she was glowing. "Lucky me."

Luka grabbed her bass case, letting her take his violin—Juleka was perfectly capable, but there was no reason he couldn't help protect her gown.

Lottie had moved whatever mountains needed moving to get them in. Stage passes were waiting at the door when they arrived, granting them easy passage not only for the sound check but also for when they slipped backstage once the concert was underway. Luka slipped it into his jacket pocket, taking Juleka's as well when her dress failed her on the storage front.

She grumbled, "I should have worn my suit." Luka laughed, but she rocked the gown Marinette had created.

"Hey. You look amazing. Rose is going to love it, and you are going to blow her away tonight. You've got this."

The fidgeting stopped as she took in his words, and the bustling of the other musicians and stage technicians moving around them faded. Juleka took a breath and smiled. Calm, serene, and perfectly goth with a practiced poise that suited her public nature.

Juleka had one more request for Lottie before they went to meet their dates. "Can I get a spotlight on Rose during the dedication?"

Lottie was thrilled with the idea. "I just need her seat information."

Once they were ready, they left their instruments at the ready and headed outside where Rose and Marinette would be meeting them. Luka practically bounced on his toes as they looked for them—as much as he had enjoyed the ball and the tea—this time Marinette truly was his date.

Marinette spotted Luka before he saw her arrive with Rose. He was standing on the steps of Le Trianon, looking over the gathering crowd, presumably for her. After all of her early teenage confusion and more recent pining, she could hardly believe that they were happening. Luka looked so, so debonaire in his black and silver ensemble. The only color was the blue of his hair under the elegant top hat. She caught her lip with a gasp and had to pause for a second to catch her breath at the sight of him, not caring a whit about Rose laughing at her—especially once Rose caught sight of Jules in her gown and nearly swallowed her tongue.

Light caught the silver accents in Luka's cravat and waistcoat the moment as he twisted and turned to look for her. He seemed almost ethereal—then his eyes landed on her, and he froze. A smile stretched across his face as he moved toward her without hesitation. Tempted to run into his arms despite the formal and historical setting of the evening, fear of tripping kept her in place until Luka reached her.

Luka bent over her hand, kissing the air above her knuckles like he was supposed to do, while Rose did the same for Juleka. Ripping her attention from Luka, Marinette watched her friends. Both of them had wanted to keep their final ensembles a surprise for the other.

Juleka was resplendent in silver and deep purple, but Rose absolutely shone in a vibrant pink suit—as dapper as any fashion plate they could find. She carried a silver, crystal-headed cane that set off the gray pinstripes of her well-fitted trousers. The tailcoat had gently puffed sleeves and was embellished with a deep pink rose at the hip and a cascade of frothy white lace in lieu of a traditional cravat.

Marinette had never seen Juleka blush quite so deeply. Rose was adorably attentive, treating Juleka like the lady of her dreams, even while preening in her finery.

Luka took her arm, pulling her a little closer than would have been socially acceptable once upon a time, but she leaned into him anyway.

"You are quite the dandy, aren't you, Rose?" Luka chuckled.

Flashing a grin, Rose tucked Juleka's arm into her own and winked. "I much prefer the term popinjay, my dear lad, but not all of us have such a gift for oration!"

They laughed, Rose included. She gave a bow with all the flair her costume demanded before showing off Juleka with a quick turn. As a group, they turned to head inside the glowing doors of Le Trianon. Marinette and Luka watched the girls walk ahead of them for a moment before they followed—Luka spun Marinette in a quick turn of her own. Her skirt flared for a brief second before settling back in place.

"You look stunning this evening, Marinette."

She smoothed her gown with a glowing smile. She had used the same pink chemise underlayer from the ball, but the over gown was new. It had a small train—something she hadn't dared to dance in—it was a sheer silver-black that gave the underlying pink dark shadows and the illusion of being sleeveless. She had worked pink and black beads into a vining pattern along the hem, elevating the gown into something sophisticated instead of merely pretty.

Marinette tugged Luka down to whisper in his ear. "You look rather dashing yourself."

"Yeah?" Luka's smile had widened into a grin, and his eyes twinkled. He looked thrilled to be out with her. Happier than she had ever seen him without his guitar… except maybe for the tea and the dance. He'd said something about her being his dream come true at the tea yesterday, and in a flash, she felt the glorious weight of the truth of how much he cared for her.

Marinette was beyond happy. Her regency weekend had been so much better than she had ever anticipated, all because of Luka. She nodded wordlessly while the truth of her realization settled into her heart, and Luka led her into the shining concert hall.

A cameraman was set up in the foyer, capturing images of the attendees in all their period finery. Luka and Marinette caught up with Rose and Juleka for a group photo before they posed for one on their own. The pop and flash of the old camera brought their first kiss to Marinette's mind, and she glanced up at Luka to find him looking at her intently. A smile hovered on the edge of his lips, and she had a feeling they were reliving the same memory. It was a good memory… one she hoped to recreate (perhaps without the audience) many times over. She pressed her fingertips to her lips to blow him a tiny kiss, blushing lightly when he winked.

As soon as they were free from the camera, Lottie Lyon, the drama student who had approached her at the last couple of events, was there to greet them, clearly hopeful for more material. She turned to Marinette with a dramatic flip of her fan. "Why, Miss Dupain-Cheng, it is so lovely to see you here this evening… and well attended, might I observe?"

Marinette, in on the plan for Rose, was prepared for Lottie's theatrics. "Thank you, Miss Lyon. I am certainly looking forward to this evening's entertainment. And yes, I am grateful that my entire party is well tonight. I hope you have a pleasant evening."

Everyone bowed or curtseyed as their attire demanded before they headed to their seats. Luka kept his hand firmly planted under Marinette's so he could guide her, reveling in the close contact.

The theatre was the perfect choice for the evening's entertainment. All gold filigree and crimson velvet, interrupted only by the impressive gowns and suits of the regency-minded guests. Luka found that it all paled in comparison to Marinette, though. Her hair was pulled up in soft curls studded with sparkling pink hairpins that winked like stars in her midnight locks. He let his hand drift up her arm, past her glove, to skim along the bare skin of her arm, past the sheer sleeve and her shoulder, before coming to rest against the back of her neck. He toyed with a curl, watching delightedly as a shiver ran through her.

"Are you trying to undo me, Luka?" Marinette's question was a breathless plea.

"Yes. Is it working?"

Marinette started to nod, but leaned into his touch instead of pulling away. "Mmhmm."

Thanking the fates that the early 1800s were well behind them, Luka leaned in to kiss her shining hair, breathing in the scent of cherry blossoms and vanilla. "Good."

"Ohmygoshyou'rebothsoperfectIneedapicture!" Rose fished her cell phone out of her pocket and aimed it at them. "I can't believe you two are finally getting together and you look like that!"

Luka grinned before pressing his lips to Marinette's hair once again (for Rose's picture, of course). If anyone had asked a month ago what he'd be wearing when he finally started dating Marinette, he would not have guessed "regency cosplay" or "his sister's clothes." Not that he would change a thing about the last few days.

"Hey, Rose." He tossed her his phone before slipping his arms around Marinette's waist, ignoring the "scandalized" titters of the other people in their section.

With a delighted squeal, Rose snapped their photo before tossing the phone back.

Marinette shook her head in exasperation, but held out her hand. "Since the phones are out, we should get one of Rose and Juleka, too. Then we can hide them and pretend it's 1810."

Luka handed her the phone with a kiss to her cheek, grinning when her face darkened in a happy blush.

Juleka let Rose wrap her arms around her for their photo, mimicking Luka's hold on Marinette. They looked good. Marinette snapped the photo with a grin before tucking the phone back into his pocket.

Moments later, the lights dimmed in warning. They all took their seats, where Luka managed to keep Marinette's hand in his. Surely no one expected him to maintain historically accurate manners in the dark with music swelling through the air and Marinette dressed like that. He was only human.

The stage lit up, highlighting the Brooklyn Duo at a pristine grand piano and glossy cello. In true "Bridgerton" fashion, the performers for the evening were classically trained musicians covering pop songs and movie themes. The Vitamin String Quartet followed the duo.

The musicians took the stage to thunderous applause. "In honor of some very talented local musicians, we have a couple of surprises for you tonight."

Their cover of Clara Nightingale's popular Miraculous was met with cheers, clearly a huge hit with the largely French crowd, but when the last strains gave way to I love Unicorns, no one was as surprised as themselves.

Rose bounced in her seat, leaning forward excitedly. Luka nearly choked on a laugh when he heard her singing along—changing their lyrics to suit the moment.

I flirt like a popinjay!

Until Juleka looks my way!

Goth girls make my heart sing, this is more than a fling!

I flirt like a popinjay!

Smile 'till I get my way, 'cause I flirt like a Popinjay!

Luka felt Marinette laughing under her breath, and found it hard to keep his own mirth contained. Juleka was smiling and blushing so hard that Luka had to avoid looking at her to keep his composure.

"You should record that one," Mari whispered with a giggle. Somehow, Rose heard her, whipping toward her as soon as she finished the last line.

"Oooooh! We should!"

"Shhhh!"

It took some effort, but they stopped laughing and bit back any more comments they might have had to focus on the music and the joy of being with the people they loved most in the world.

When the lights came up for intermission, Marinette captured Rose's attention so that Luka and Juleka could slip away with little notice.

"Those lyrics were so much fun, Rose!"

"You think?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "I think you should do a whole Kitty Section Regency release. Get Jules to play her upright, and Luka to play the acoustic. Play with the lyrics a little. You'll bring 'popinjay' back into vogue!"

Rose seemed to glow; she was so excited. "OMG. That could be so much fun! Do you think you could make modified costumes? Sort of blend 'regency refinement' with the pauldrons and masks?"

Mind whirring, Marinette dug her tiny sketchbook and pencil from her reticule to jot down a couple of ideas. "If you used the dresses or suits you already have, I could make something for Ivan. Adjust the masks… make stylized top hats for anyone in a suit… keep the colors, tweak the shapes a little—"

The lights dimmed, and Marinette bit back a curse as she lost the light she needed to continue her sketch.

Rose leaned into her. "Don't worry. I know you'll come up with the perfect thing!" She said with a quick squeeze of her arm. "Now, where did our dates get to?"

Marinette sank into her seat. "I'm sure they will be back any second." The lie didn't hurt. This was a surprise, and she was happy to do her small part.

Onstage, the heavy curtains clacked as they were pulled back to reveal the Couffaine siblings at their respective instruments. Luka, in black and silver, with his violin tucked under his arm and bow at his side, was a perfect complement to Juleka in her purple and silver gown. She stood straight and proud, her hand clutched around the neck of her bass. The seemingly ever-present Lottie Lyon walked out, mic in hand.

"We have a special treat for you all this evening. We have all benefited from the theatrics of an unfolding romance during the last weekend, and while I know many of you are waiting for more details on that front, tonight I am honored to introduce you to half of Kitty Section, Luka and Juleka Couffaine. Miss Couffaine has a special musical interlude to share with Miss Rose Lavillant. Please enjoy."

She strode off the stage to welcoming applause. Juleka dropped a quick curtsy before wrapping her arms around her bass to prepare to play. Luka bowed and positioned his violin under his chin. A spotlight landed on Rose…and several people around her. Marinette watched Rose's delighted face when Juleka blew a kiss in her direction before drawing the first note from the bass.

The first few notes sounded like Juleka, slow and deep. Then it picked up. Her bow moved swiftly over the strings in a series of notes that reminded Marinette of Rose's laugh. Luka joined in on violin—Marinette almost swore she could hear the cadence of Rose's voice while she told a story in the melody on the strings. The violin slowed while the bass kept up its lively chatter before they traded places. Eventually, the soft and slow, sweet and light, deep and joyous pieces coalesced into one perfect duet—the story of love between a goth girl and her manic pixie unicorn.

Rose was spellbound. Hand clutching the lace at her throat, tears sparkling on her cheeks under the spotlight. Marinette reached across Luka's empty seat to brush her arm. "Breathe," she whispered.

Rose sucked in a breath and wiped away a tear above her incandescent smile. Marinette turned her attention to the last notes, just in time to catch Luka's wink. The music faded into silence, and the audience burst into applause. Marinette felt a little breathless herself—even in a moment where he was playing for Juleka and Rose—Luka had been thinking of her. Heedless of the spotlight and the many eyes that had to be on her, she blew a kiss to the stage, where it was caught by a smiling Luka.

The second the curtain fell, Rose squealed, throwing her arms around Marinette in a vice-like hug. "Did you see? Did you hear? Oh my goodness. That was—it was so beautiful!"

Marinette nodded, but Rose wasn't finished. "You knew! You did. That's why you weren't worried when they were late. I can't believe you hid this! Actually, I can. You are such a supportive frie—Jules!"

Rose released her and flew into Juleka's arms, greeting her with a kiss at the same moment the curtain came back up to reveal the Orchestre de Paris. With a quick look around, Juleka led the still-gushing Rose into the hall, a blush staining her cheeks. Luka took a seat next to Marinette.

"I think she liked it," Marinette murmured as softly as she could.

"I caught that."

"So did Jules." Marinette giggled. It was a good thing Juleka had decent reflexes; Rose had thrown herself into her arms so quickly it was a wonder they hadn't landed on the floor.

The orchestra was good, but Luka had captured her hand again and was tracing patterns over her palm that made it hard to focus on anything other than the warmth that seemed to spread out from the ever-shifting point of contact.

It was all she could do to breathe when he slowly pulled her glove off to trace the same patterns on her bare skin. She didn't know why it felt so all-consuming. She had held Luka's hand before. But something about the dress, the sense of ancient propriety, and the darkness made every second that he touched her tantalize her senses until she thought she might moan right there in the theatre.

"L-Luka?" Her gasp broke mid-word, but he had always understood what she meant behind whatever words made it out of her mouth.

"Want to get out of here?"

She nodded, and as applause thundered around them in response to the last song, Luka gathered up his violin case and helped her up and out to the hall before the next piece began.

They didn't stop until they'd made it out of the concert hall altogether. At the bottom of the steps, Luka pulled her close, kissing her like he had in her dreams since the night of the ball. He held her close, tight, like he never wanted to let her go.

She loved it.

She loved him.

She wrapped her arms around his waist under his jacket and kissed him back with all the pent-up fervor he had wrought with his caresses in the theatre until it was Luka who moaned against her lips.

They were both panting when they pulled back from the kiss. Luka rested his forehead against hers as they caught their breath.

"I like this," Marinette whispered. "Kissing the man I love is my new favorite thing."

Luka blinked his eyes open to find a new appreciation for Regency fashions. Marinette's chest was still heaving as she caught her breath. He pulled back regretfully, feeling decidedly dazed.

The night was clear and bright; distant stars twinkled faintly beyond the lights of the city, but the moon shone bright and nearly full above them. Luka wrapped an arm around Marinette, nodding in the general direction of the 21st Arrondissement.

"Walk you home?" It would be mostly by metro if he wanted to get her home before the morning and with her feet in one piece. But there were enough quiet spaces before getting on and after getting off the train that could continue to add a little romance to their perfect night.

Marinette was smiling at him, lamp light reflecting in the dark pools of her eyes. "Under the moonlit sky?"

"Yes."

Her eyebrow quirked up, and her voice took on a teasing quality. "Unchaperoned?"

"Hell, yes."

She pecked a quick kiss against his cheek. "I would love that."

Luka caught her lips in a slower, lingering display of affection. "I love you."

They weren't the only young lovers walking through the city that night, but neither Luka nor Marinette noticed the other passersby as they made their way slowly toward the boulangerie that Marinette called home. Luka's arm held Marinette fast to his side while his violin hung quietly from his hand. Marinette leaned against him, the train of her overdress looped over her wrist as they made their way through the city, stealing kisses and whispering endearments whenever they found themselves on a dimly lit path.

The weekend might be over, but the new, beautiful facet of their relationship was just beginning.

Marinette leaped back as Juleka burst through the doorway. Her face turned red when Juleka grimaced, but Luka looked completely nonplussed as he pulled her back into his arms.

"I can't believe I wanted you to get together. I can't even enter my own room safely anymore." Juleka grumbled.

"What's up, Jules?" Luka asked. Marinette felt her heated cheeks cool in the safety of her boyfriend's arms.

Rose burst in past Juleka and jumped onto Luka's bed, pulling Juleka with her. "The final PRaDS Bulletin is out with our interview!"

Juleka held out her phone, where a black and white photo of the four of them graced the top of the post.

The photo was set in the foyer of Le Trianon. Luka was too busy gazing at Marinette to look at the camera. Rose was smiling wide, but her eyes were on Juleka. Marinette had managed to look at the camera, but she was leaning contentedly into Luka. Juleka looked perfectly poised and composed with a soft, polite smile; unless you happened to know her, in which case the three of them knew she was truly happy and ready to burst, and even the monochromatic image couldn't hide the blush that the force of Rose's attention had painted on her cheeks.

Juleka began to read. "As the decadence of our regency experience comes to an end, PRaDS is happy to report that some things are just beginning.

"Our readers will be delighted to hear that Mister Couffaine and Miss Dupain-Cheng have reached an understanding over the weekend, and we should not be surprised to see them around town in one another's company. Sources say that both families are thrilled at the match.

"In other, but not unrelated news, the symphony, our pièce de résistance for the weekend, was a smashing success. Miss Couffaine, accompanied by Mister Couffaine, delivered a stunning performance in honor of the incomparable Miss Rose Lavillant. Not only was Miss Rose swept off her feet by the performance, but our program chair has been inundated with notes and letters asking about the duo. I am happy to be able to relate that they are one half of a local Parisian band, Kitty Section, who made their debut at the Music festival a few years ago…"

Rose sighed dramatically and pulled Juleka into a kiss. "You are such a romantic!"

"Hey!" Luka shoved at Rose halfheartedly, "Not on my bed. Go swoon somewhere else."

Rose hopped off the bed with a giggle. "C'mon Jules, I'm not done thanking you for the song yet!"

Marinette waited for Juleka to follow Rose out before laughing, "I don't think she'll ever stop thanking her."

Luka shook his head with a groan. "Thanks for that mental image."

Marinette twisted in his arms until she was facing him. "Awww, and I was going to thank you for rescuing me at the ball, not to mention the rest of the weekend."

Luka felt a dopey grin take over his face. He wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, yeah? How were you going to do that?"

Marinette didn't answer. Her lips were too busy thanking Luka with a kiss that rivaled his dreams.

Fin