Chapter Text
Marinette glanced at the calendar on her desk in the bustling office. Grimacing, she stood, and headed for Gabriel's office.
Don't get her wrong, she loved working for the Agreste company, she loved how much impact she had despite being just an intern. But the thought of judging a design contest that she had won (three years in a row) was a bit nerve-wracking. Her fingers clutched her notebook, knowing that she'd have to walk on eggshells.
She wasn't afraid of Monsieur Agreste, it was the designers who entered the contest. Marinette knew that this situation was akuma-breeding ground.
She brushed by Nathalie's office, already filled with twittering designers, hopefuls. They were all between the ages of fifteen and eighteen, just like her. Hell, some of them were designers she had competed against that past year.
Still, they knew who she was, and fell silent. Don't be too intimidating, she thought, smiling at them, waving. When you win the same contest three years in a row, you tend to get a reputation.
Not bothering to knock, she headed inside. Monsieur Agreste's office was daunting, and existed in three phases, a dining table; a collection of a sofa, coffee table, and two armchairs; and his desk. It was regal.
Gabriel sat on the sofa, but did stand when she entered the room, "Marinette, always a pleasure. Thank you for assisting me today." He gestured for her to sit.
"What exactly do you want me to assist you with, before we start?" She smiled slightly, his blue eyes were so unnerving, even underneath his glasses.
"I need you to develop a critical eye." He told her, "Criticize every designer at least once, when I ask. That's all." Gabriel pressed a button on an intercom on the coffee table, telling Nathalie that they were ready.
His hands tapped against his notebook lightly, he had to pick the right designer to akumatize. He was close to figuring out the identities of Chat Noir. Gabriel noticed how Chat acted during Jackady, how he handled it. It was with an expert level of precision, and the way he acted around Gabriel himself? It was a dead giveaway.
Chat Noir has to work close to me, he thought to himself, I just need to get an akuma to attack my office and I'll know exactly who he is. There were enough cameras, there weren't a lot of people who worked in his office. He would know by the end of the day, he just needed Marinette to be his catalyst.
He glanced to her, feeling her anxiety emanating off of her. Still, he decided to take this girl under his wing, and he knew if he pushed her in the right direction, she would gain confidence and be a better designer because of it. He also knew that one insult from the kind, bubbly teenager would burn to a third-degree on the young hopefuls.
His eyes narrowed in on the first contestant, a young blonde with a nude colored dress. It was a summer dress contest, after all. It didn't take the superpowers of the butterfly miraculous to see her that her confidence was more than skin deep. This designer was far to secure in herself, her hand-crafted purse, and her skills.
Crossing her name off of his list, he felt Marinette shift. The designer delicately threw the dress over the canvas dress form. Gabriel was making notes when he told the girl next to him, "Well? What do you think?"
"M-Me?" Marinette squinted, putting her hand behind her head and smiling slightly, as though it were a shield. "I think your dress is nicely sculptured, and although that silhouette is incredibly flattering on most shapes, the color isn't suited as an off-the-rack design."
Gabriel's eyes narrowed, he looked at the dress as well. "You couldn't have said it better myself, Marinette. Thank you. Have a nice day."
The next designer entered, and the next one, as well as the one after that. They were all a confident bunch until the fifth designer walked into the room. He was a small, stout teenager with combed black hair and a dress. To his credit, the dress was lovely, with embroidered robin's egg-blue lace overlying a medium brown chiffon.
The old fashion designer suppressed a slight smile. It was the best designed dress he'd seen all day, and the icing on the cake was that the dress's designer was as nervous as could be. Tearing it apart would be the easiest thing to do. The boy would be the perfect akuma.
"This," Gabriel's voice echoed in the high-ceiling room, "Is by far, the worst dress I've seen all day."
The boy staggered back, leaning his hand against the dining room table. "I'm s-sorry?" He stuttered, his face was already read, his forehead was already glowing with sweat.
"I mean, are you really so surprised?" Gabriel's voice was low, "the contrast in this piece is painful, and the skirt is too long. The neckline is incredibly square when a majority of the lace has a scalloped hem? That'll read as a nightgown to the average consumer."
The feelings in the room were almost overwhelming him. He glanced at Marinette. She was working very hard to squash her feelings of guilt, and the confusion she felt towards her boss. The designer, Pierre, had come in second last year to Marinette, didn't he? She knew him well enough, right? Gabriel realized that the two of them had competed in the past three competitions.
This is too perfect, he kept his face unchanged, but underneath the mask, he was grinning wildly.
"Marinette? Your thoughts?"
She swallowed, hoping she wouldn't hurt her friend. "I find your dress…disappointing. Your design is five years too late, unfortunately."
"And?" Gabriel prodded, just a little bit more. The boy was so close, one more jab from Marinette, and everything would be wrapped up perfectly.
"And!" Marinette's eyes widened, seeing the look in Monsier Agreste's eyes, knowing exactly what he wanted from her, "I think your dress is…h-hideous. Plain and s-simple."
Gabriel smiled, as the designer let himself out.
After several more designers, the last one was finally out.
He glanced at his intern, who hand's were shaking. Attempting to assure her, he said, "You need to understand that this business is cutthroat. You need to intimidate them, they need to fear you, along with your talent. You and the designers out there? You are all the next generation, and it's your job to rise above it all."
Marinette hand's stopped shaking, she looked a him, meeting his ocean-like eyes with hers. "Pierre's dress was the best out of the bunch." She stated, "Shouldn't I give praise where praise is due?"
Spitfire.
Gabriel stood, gathering his notebook in his spindly fingers, "Do not praise people for doing what they were supposed to do in the first place. Do not praise mediocrity." With these words, he slipped into his office and waited.
Marinette huffed, and stepped out of the office. "Is there anything else for me, Nathalie?"
"No, nothing, resume your work." She responded, clacking away against her desktop computer.
The young girl slipped into her cozy office. After a few months of working for Gabriel Agreste, it was certainly moved in. Tikki popped out of her purse, "Do you think an akuma will attack the office?"
"Yes." She stated, "I'm going to alert Chat Noir. Transform me!"
Ladybug flipped open her communicator, dialing Chat. Somehow, he miraculously answered her, waggling his eyesbrows, "My lady! Need me to make a house call? The doctor is in!"
"Chat Noir. No." She grimaced, "I suspect that there's going to be an akuma attack."
His ears perked up, "Where? How?"
"Gabriel Agreste is the new Chloe! I swear, keep an eye on him, as I think he will be the target, as well as…" Her voice trailed off, she swallowed. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I—I have to go. I'm busy at the moment and I don't think I'll be able to stop the akuma immediately, but I'll be there soon."
He looked at her, studying Ladybug's eyes. Was it, regret, or worry? "A-Alright. I'll see you soon, bugaboo." He disconnected first, quickly de-transforming.
If his father was in trouble, he'd have to slip away from piano class, wouldn't he?
Marinette opened the door of her office as soon as the ruckus began, not looking faintly surprised, however, this akuma was calling after her.
"Ah, Marinette! So good of you to finally make an appearance!" A man in a bright orange suit and off-white skin bellowed. "You're going to judge my fashion line!"
Gabriel stood, leaning against a wall. Marinette stared at the multitude of dresses draped over the desks of her coworker's. "What is this? Where is everyone?" She swallowed, glaring, "What did you do?"
"Portfolio turned them into dresses." Gabriel smirked, "That's his name. Portfolio."
She realized that she was two steps away from the stairs. There was nothing to be done, but she glanced at Gabriel, who looked rather disappointed by the whole affair. And who wouldn't be, in his situation?
If Chat Noir was turned into a frilly dress, he'd had no way of figuring out his identity. But, he looked at Marinette, willing her to leave. There was no point anymore in continuing the game.
Portfolio glared, "Well, Marinette? Why don't you be our model? Unless you'd rather be a dress."
She smiled slightly, "How about I do you one better?"
"What?"
"You should have photographic evidence of all these w-wonderful dresses!" She clasped her hands together, feigning excitement, "They really are spectacular, but if Chat Noir and Ladybug defeat you, you won't have any memory of designing these masterpieces!"
"There's a camera in my office." Gabriel pointed out. "Marinette knows where it is."
Portfolio stared at her, and wielded his fabric scissors, pointing at a dress. "If you don't return, I'll rip one of these dresses to shreds."
Her eyes widened, "Right, of course. I'll be back in a minute."
She slipped into Nathalie's office, and then through Gabriel's. "Tikki. Transform me!" She pulled out her yo-yo, and called Chat. No answer. "Fuck." Her eyes glanced back towards the door, thinking about her coworkers being torn to shreds.
Would a miraculous cure turn them back into whole people, or minced pieces? She shivered at the though.
None of Gabriel's windows opened. They were glass panes. Of course, Ladybug could break one, but Chat Noir would be there soon, so Marinette would just have to wait. De-tranforming, she grabbed the camera and headed out into the main room.
"I—I have the camera. Please, don't hurt anyone!" Marinette said. "I—I can model the dresses. Gabriel can photograph." She grabbed the first dress, and from the business-like nature of it, she knew that she was putting on Nathalie. "I'll step into my office and c-change, okay? Please."
"No." Portfolio startled. "If I let you out of my sight you'll call up one of those precious heroes. You can change here."
Marinette felt her face flush. Gabriel turned his head, away, politely. "A-Alright. If that's what you want."
She turned around as well, facing a tall, glass pane of a window. She began to peel off her jacket, letting it crumple to the floor. Unzipping her pink trousers, she stepped out of those, grimacing at the chill. Gabriel's office was always freezing.
She was down to her bra and panties, when Chat Noir appeared, bursting through the glass.
I hate my life, she thought, distinctly, trying to cover herself in the Nathalie dress.
Chat Noir was frozen. Marinette? Holy shit, she's built. "Well," He joked, "This whole situation is leaving me in stitches."
Gabriel rolled his eyes, still not daring to look over. "Are you dressed, Marinette? Let's get this over with."
Chat Noir stood between Marinette and the akuma, realizing that he'd have to buy time for his lady to show up, "And who are you supposed to be? Valentino? Chanel? Armani? Alexander Mcqueen?" No response, "I can do this all day, I'm educated in my designers. Calvin Klein? Versace? Dior?"
Gabriel's eyes narrowed, why doesn't he focus on saving the day? He glanced over at the black cat, and subsequently, Marinette, who was gathering her clothes, slowly putting them back on.
Portfolio aimed his scissors at Chat, shooting a red light towards him. Chat's baton was drawn, and he deflected it, the beam bouncing against a wall. "Marinette! Go!"
Gabriel watched her break into a sprint, slide to the door, and thrust it open, bolting down the stairs. So, he knows her, he's interacted with her before? He could feel the concern for her radiating off of the leather-clad superhero. This is new, he mused, but Marinette was gone, so now he was left wondering how she felt towards Chat Noir.
"Say, Gabriel?" Chat Noir challenged, "A-hem, Gabriel?" He was dodging the Portfolio's attacks, leaping around desks and sprinting about, knocking over thousands of dollars' worth of computers. "Shouldn't you take cover?"
He knew perfectly well that the akuma's magic would have zero effect on him, but still. "I don't move for anyone. That includes supervillians."
Chat Noir almost hissed, but held back, realizing that he needed to keep focus. Portfolio was closing in on him, driving him against the broken glass where he had originally entered. "Give me your miraculous!"
"Wow. Suddenly, I'm convinced." Chat Noir slid out of the way, trying to keep Portfolio from facing his father, "Yeah, totally, take my miraculous."
Ladybug burst through Chat's pre-shattered window.
"Ladybug, do me a favor. Say 'There's no need for that!'" Chat Noir beamed at her, circumventing another beam of light.
"Nah," Ladybug's yo-yo flicked out towards the fabric scissors of Portfolio. They shears were quickly in her hands, and she snapped the metal apart, "I've been around the block enough to know better." The butterfly popped out, fluttering lazily towards the window.
The akuma was purified, and all of the employees flashed back into existence, appearing rather confused. Ladybug smiled, and approached Pierre. She helped him up off the ground, and placed the repaired shears into his hands.
"You were akumatized. I'm sorry for what happened." She told him, genuinely, "I'm assuming that Gabriel Agreste did this to you, but you should know that he's a Grade-A Jerk and h'es not worth giving up your dream. From what I just saw, you're an excellent designer."
She glared at Gabriel, who looked at her with an unconcerned expression, "Thank you for all your help," He stated, "Your services are no longer required."
Narrowing her eyes, she found herself swallowing her pride, and turning on her heels. "Come on, Chat! We're leaving."
He jumped over a stairwell, stopping her in her tracks, "How'd you know about the akuma?"
"I knew there was a contest, Gabriel is a notorious ass, Chat. It's happened before." She answered, pushing him aside. "Don't be silly."
"Alright…" He waggled his eyebrows, "So, did you win?"
"Win what?"
"The contest?"
"No. I didn't enter." She glanced over her shoulder, finally at a window that they could open. It wasn't a lie, "Till next time, kitty." Ladybug jumped out the window.
Gabriel stared at the footage of his office, replaying it over and over on his desktop monitor. This was too good to be true.
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Ladybug." He murmured to himself, glancing at Nooroo, who floated just over his shoulder hesitantly.