The room was silent. All eyes had turned to stare at him and he could feel the prickling on the back of his neck. Oh, shucks!

As the investors had droned on and on about random crap he had zero interest in, he'd zoned out. His eyes, instead, had trailed down to Marinette's sketchbook, where they landed upon the most beautiful and wonderful designs of pretty dresses and cool all in ones.

It didn't take a detective to work out what Marinette was doing. Instead of designing the usual women's or men's latest styles, she was getting inspiration for what to make Emma — and each and everyone just showed the incredible, wasted talent that Marinette had.

Why was she only in alterations when she had a talent like this?

He had never seen anything like this in all his years of modelling, and working for his father in the offices. She was skilled beyond belief and everyone needed to know. Unfortunately, he probably should have discussed where she wanted to go with it all first before giving in to his verbal diarrhoea.

Marinette's commentary just added to the fun of the board meeting as she claimed most people who brought from Gabriel were either dead not, or were spending their money on their newborn babies — a statement he couldn't even argue with.

He held back a rather large snort, what a way to liven up an otherwise tedious meeting.

"Do you have any solutions to get us out of this crisis? If you think that's the problem." His father was positively seething and Adrien thought it was the best thing he'd ever seen in his life. This woman was the greatest meet-cute he'd ever had. She was comedy gold.

"Well —" he watched her eyes dart around the room, a little wide eyed doe looking for someone to come and save her from the imminent car crash.

Cue Adrien Agreste aka Chat Noir.

He could be her hero. It would be easy enough to do with such a damsel in distress.

"We've actually been working on a new section of Gabriel. A new brand idea which will put the company back on the map." Adrien stood and looked around the room, delivering his sales pitch as though it had been planned for months. "It's amazing and exhilarating, and even though it's not quite ready yet, it's a very strong work in progress."

"And what is that, Adrien?" Gabriel enquired.

Marinette looked at him dumbfounded, had she not realised what she'd got right under her hands. He took the sketchbook from her, a tiny gasp omitting from her mouth, and held the pages open, presenting it to the investors and his father.

"Everyone. We'd like to introduce you to 'Baby A'."

A sound of interested ramblings filled the silence as people once again became animated; uptight business men and women suddenly sat up straight and looked like Adrien was presenting them with a rather fine dessert champagne.

"Baby 'A'?" Gabriel raised one eyebrow in their direction, his words spoken with complete disinterest and disbelief.

"Yes," Adrien nodded, book still tightly in hands. "Baby 'A'. It was something we were going to branch out on our own with, but seeing the company in such disrepair, maybe it is something you could use to help save it."

Adrien could feel the burn of the eyes beside him. He'd just stolen her idea and her designs, plus any additional income she was hoping to gain for herself — just ripped away from her.

"These are very eye-catching designs. May I take a look?" The lady beside him stretched up and took the book from his hands, studying the designs on the page with great interest. She began to flick through the book and Adrien felt a tug on his belt.

"Adrien," her voice was a whispered hiss.

"Honestly, Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I'm surprised you haven't been involved more often," the lady said once again. "I doubt we'd be in this position with talent like yours on the design floor."

"Baby 'A' is only up for the taking if Marinette and myself are controlling it. It's our baby and it'll be our choice whether we choose to sell." Adrien stood strong, taking his first true step against his father and opening a door to his own fate. He just knew an ultimatum was going to come out of this. There was no doubt.

"You'll need to present it to the board just as all our other sub brands, Adrien. Then we'll decide whether we take it or not."

Chatter continued around the room and Adrien was pulled between three places: the fawning of the investors, the death glare of his father and the panicked name calling of his 'girlfriend'. The tug came once more just as the investor stopped on a page...a page which sent Adrien's eyeballs flying out of the sockets and causing his father to choke (what they were seeing, not Adrien's eyeballs).

He looked down to Marinette, her hands covering her eyes and ever glowing face. The sudden sound of laughter had her parting her fingers and peeping through the gap.

"Now, Ms. Dupain-Cheng, are you sure you want to take on such a big project? It looks here as though you're going to have a busy few years."

Adrien smiled at the investor before eying the picture once more. There on the page under the title of 'The Agreste Family' was a detailed sketch of Adrien cuddled up to Marinette and three young children, plus Emma, snuggled in their arms.

Once again, Adrien found himself being dragged into the store closet, a very miffed Marinette standing before him and blocking his exit.

"What is wrong with you?" she huffed, standing at the opposite side of the closet, arms crossed in a vice-like hold he felt sorry for her chest.

"I've had the tests but nothing's been confirmed."

"Adrien! This really isn't the time for jokes. Not only have you sold out my designs to your father's company, I've now got to do a presentation to the board and well..."

He knew she was on about the sketchbook and if he had any sense of...well...anything... he'd keep his lips closed and just ride out the storm. Unfortunately, Adrien only thought about all this after he'd already started to speak.

"Four kids, eh? When do you want to get started?"

Wrong thing to say. Completely the wrong thing to say.

Marinette's eyes widened and he swore she was going to murder him there and then — with a mop, or a bottle of toilet cleaner.

"You know what? I'm taking the rest of the day off." She dropped her arms, clenching her fists to her sides.

"You can't just walk out. There's still half a day to go," he said exasperatedly.

"Well, considering I work for your function of Gabriel, plus I'm your baby Maman you're going to make it happen." She pushed from the back wall and began to head to the door, stopping beside him, grabbing his tie and giving it a quick wiggle, causing the once straight object to pull slightly to the side. "See you later, stud muffin."

Opening the door into the corridor, he chased after her, straightening his tie, only to come face-to-face with the investors from the boardroom.

"Nice day today, isn't it?" Adrien straightened his tie and smiled at the four men and three women crowding around, each of them looking between Adrien and Marinette...and the closet.

Suddenly, the older man with the grey toupée elbowed the woman next to him. "Reminds me of our younger days, isn't that right, Cecilia?"

The woman giggled and tapped him with jest on the arm. "That was only an office fling though, once my husband found out about the rumpy pumpy we stopped."

Rumpy pumpy?

Adrien cringed and turned his attention to a rather flustered Marinette. He never knew a face could turn so red. It was quite a feat.

" And they need to get a head start on their next cherub. How old is Emma by the way?"

"Twenty months," Marinette said through gritted teeth.

"Perfect time to get working on the next one, don't you think?" Cecilia smirked, looking like she wanted them both to turn around and go back into the room. If they were careful, he was almost certain she'd give them a push.

"She's actually on her period at the moment, so—" All eyes turned to Marinette, and Adrien wished he could go back in time and sew his mouth shut. Why the hell did he just say that?

"It's been lovely to meet you all, but I've got to go and take Emma for an appointment." Marinette began to head to the elevator, eyes now turning from his fake girlfriend to himself. What were they expecting?

A sudden thought hit him hard. If they were actually together and everyone knew about it now; shouldn't they say goodbye properly?

"Wait up sweetheart, we don't need to hide anymore." As if the day wasn't mortifying enough for the young designer, Adrien walked towards her his intent clear on his face and terror written all over hers.

Every single twitch of her face let him know she well and truly knew what he was about to do. The red tinge suddenly disappeared and she turned a pale milky colour. She seemed glued to the spot, allowing him easy access to slide his arms around her waist and pull her close.

Adrien moved one hand to her face, cupping her cheek and lowering his head down to hers. The terror on her face dissolved; her eyes twinkled before closing and her chin tilting up. Was she actually accepting this advancement? Part of him was scared she was going to allow him close and then slap him hard, heaven knows he deserved it.

Instead, she moved her hand to his tie, fisting it and pulling him towards her. Did she want to do this? Well, she did want a family with him so maybe, just maybe this incredibly attractive, talented woman didn't mind this.

Her eyes fluttered closed, his own mirroring the action as their lips met. If he thought the zap of electricity was a fluke in the cafe, he was seriously mistaken. As their lips met, he felt his entire soul being lifted into the air. His toes curled from the intense feeling of such an intimate action with this woman.

They couldn't have kissed for more than a couple of seconds, yet when his head moved away he felt breathless. The small action almost took him down to his knees. Opening his eyes, he noticed Marinette was staring back, something unreadable in her eyes as she stared at him.

"I better go," she whispered, her tongue coming out to lick the area he'd just been in close contact with and all he wanted to do was go back and see if seconds were as good as firsts.

"I'll see you at home," he uttered out like a love sick puppy.

"Home," she repeated, an air of a sigh in the word as she spun on her heels and entered the newly arrived elevator.