#story for mouserzwuzhere | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lycorogue · 4 years

Text

ML Secret Santa Story: The Great Debate

Holy smokes, it’s 2am! Uh, I wanted to have this done by Christmas Eve, but I guess an official Merry Christmas to my @mlsecretsanta giftee @mouserzwuzhere is now in order. So... Merry Christmas!

Sorry for the delay, it actually kept me most of this month to lock down what I wanted to write. In the end, I ended up going with something inspired by a Tumblr post. Of course, I can’t find the post now to link it, but it talked about the logistical fallacy of most Christmas movies where Santa is canonically real, but adults still don’t believe in him.

I went with mouserz preferences of fluff, friendship/family bonding, and LadyNoir. I hope this ends up being a pleasant surprise for you under your digital Christmas tree this morning. :D

UPDATE (12/25/19): You can now find the story on AO3, on FFN, and on DA as well as below.

The Great Debate

Summary: When Ladybug agreed to meet up later with Chat Noir, she never imagined they would end up discussing the validity of Santa being real. It’s funny the things you do for your loved ones.

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 4032

Status: Completed one-shot

Disclaimer: I’m ignoring the two-part season 3 finale with regards to Master Fu; pretend this takes place before that....

Ladybug breathed in the chilled, crisp night air. Her breath escaped in a thin fog. Her supersuit kept her warm, but her cheeks still flushed with the bite of wind as she swung through the city. Thankfully, the snow recently ceased, and the air was calm. Once she was at her destination she would be warmer.

Looking down the long roofs of the office buildings, she spotted a figure already perched six buildings down the street. He was there. He was waiting for her. She shifted the weight of the package nestled in the crook of her left arm, and sprinted towards her meet-up.

Chat Noir lazily kicked his legs as he leaned back on the tower roof's ledge, staring up at the sky; looking for stars he couldn't see. He hummed “Silent Night” to himself, and was on the third verse when Ladybug landed behind him.

“You're late, Bugaboo.”

“Don't-” It was on reflex, but there was no akuma around now. She simply sighed, and shook her head. “Sorry. I wanted to get something for you first.” She held out her package: a box of Tom & Sabine Bakery macarons. It was risky to bring them to Chat Noir, but it was also a bit of an impromptu meet-up.

Earlier that day, for the second Christmas Eve in a row, Hawk Moth decided to not take a vacation, and akumatized a poor distraught person. As they were fighting, Chat Noir seemed more distracted than usual, exchanging his usual ill-timed flirting for requests that they hang out again later. The more the battle wore on, the more Ladybug picked up that perhaps this get-together was something Chat Noir truly needed.

Then they defeated the villain. Ladybug purified the akuma, and used her ultimate power to restore Paris. The duo fist-bumped in front of the rush of reporters capturing the latest attack on their beloved city. Ladybug's earrings chimed that she only had two minutes remaining, and soon after Chat Noir's ring beeped for the second time. She couldn't say anything to him in front of the reporters; couldn't let Hawk Moth potentially know where they would be. Instead, she gave him a silent plead to forgive her abruptness, and swung away. Once out of sight, she used the last few precious seconds of her transformation to text Chat Noir where to meet up. She prayed that he would get the message before de-transforming.

It seemed he did.

She didn't have much time to plan a Christmas gift for Chat Noir. She didn't imagine an opportunity to gift him anything. It would be far too inappropriate while they were actively attempting to protect Paris, and she didn't want Chat Noir to get the wrong idea if she asked him for a meet-up for a gift exchange. She didn't have the time to make anything, and she barely had the time to purchase anything; most stores were already closed for the holiday. She lucked out that her parents had anything left in their bakery.

“Huh. Great minds, it seems, M'lady.” Chat Noir smirked as he grabbed a matching pastry box he had hidden beside his right hip. His contained a pair of over-stuffed cream puffs. He brushed the snow off the ledge beside him and patted the now-bare roof.

Ladybug studied Chat Noir. She sprinted through the list of patrons she saw in her parents' bakery that day, trying to remember any young men with blonde hair. None came to mind. Perhaps he had bought the cream puffs while she was in her room. Maybe that was why he was so persistent with wanting a meet-up.

“Great minds indeed.” Ladybug hummed inquisitively, but still accepted the cleared-off seat. Holding out her box to Chat Noir, she traded peppermint macarons for her puff.

“Mmm.” Chat Noir popped the macaron in his mouth in one bite. “I guess it makes sense that we'd both pick pastries from the Tom & Sabine. It is the best bakery in all of Paris, after all.”

Ladybug lightly blushed, and hoped her cheeks were already red enough from the cold for Chat Noir to not notice. “I'm sure they'd appreciate hearing that, especially from a superhero.”

“You should tell them too, then.”

She had never thought of that. “Perhaps I'll take the time to do so.” She bit into her cream puff, and quickly licked up the filling oozing out of the opposite side.

Chat Noir popped another macaron in his mouth. “Thank you for meeting up with me tonight.”

Ladybug stilled, looking deeply at Chat Noir. “You sounded like you needed it. Is everything alright?”

“It is now.” He gave her a sad little smile, and then scraped some cream out of the center of his puff.

“It's Christmas Eve, Kitty. Wouldn't you rather spend it with loved ones?”

“I thought I was.”

“Come on, be serious, Chat Noir.”

He put down his treats, and instead scooped up Ladybug's right hand, keeping her gaze. “I am serious. Please tell me that you know by now that I'm always serious with every love confession.”

“Chat Noir-”

He dropped her hand and scooted further away from her. “I know, I know. You're in love with someone else. I understand that, but it doesn't lessen my feelings for you, and how dear you are to me.”

“Kitty.”

Clearing his throat, he tossed another macaron in the air, and caught it in his mouth. “Sorry I'm keeping you from your loved ones, though.”

Ladybug rested a hand on his shoulder. “You're not. You're dear to me too, remember?”

They finished their treats with small, simple, stupid conversation. They talked about nothing in particular, for fear of giving something away that would reveal themselves, and yet they said a lot with the way they each talked about being a superhero, or how they felt about the past year, or even about the weather.

“How could you not love the snow?” Ladybug gathered the empty pastry boxes, and tucked them beside her.

“It's lonely.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Most people stay inside; isolated in their homes. Paris isn't as bustling as normal. It's quiet.”

“See, that's one of the things I like about the snow.” Ladybug scooped some off the roof, and started packing it into a ball. “It absorbs sound, you know. That's why Paris seems so quiet and serene when it snows. The lights then reflect off the crisp white, and the city just seems clean and new. It seems safe.”

“It is safe, with you as its savior.”

“Yeah, well you're not too bad yourself there, Kitty.” They shared a smile. “Besides, snow isn't lonely. It's inviting. Families huddle together to drink cocoa as they watch the snow. Friends play together making snow angels or snowmen, or race on sleds, or build forts together, or have snowball fights.”

Chat Noir's face fell, so Ladybug threw her freshly formed snowball at his shoulder.

“Hey!” He quickly packed his own snowball, but Ladybug was faster and hit him with another one. “Okay! Okay, I submit!” He dropped his snowball, and held his hands over his head.

“Haven't you ever just played in the snow? How could you not feel the magic of it while you dance under a soft snow fall, or catch flakes on your tongue, or simply lay in the cold silence, just feeling at peace with the world?”

“I'll have to keep all of those in mind the next time it snows.”

“Good.”

Another soft, shared look as they each offered the other a gentle smile.

Church bells softly rang in the distance; breaking the spell as Chat Noir turned to the sound.

“It's getting late. Should we head home? Don't want to chance Santa passing us up since we aren't asleep.”

“Wait, Santa?”

“Yeah. You think he's in the area already? I mean, I really couldn't ask for a better gift than to spend time with you, M'lady, but I wouldn't want to push my luck with the Big Guy in Red.”

“Chat Noir, do you still believe in Santa Claus?” She quirked an eyebrow at him, and playfully smirked.

“I mean, are you telling me you don't?” His face scrunched up as he stared incredulously at her. “We literally saw him! Twice!”

“First of all, those were both during akuma attacks, so who truly knows what is and isn't real during those? Secondly, Santa Claws seemed to just be a friendly old man who dressed up as Santa; not Jolly Old Saint Nick himself, and his 'Santa' powers were because of the akumatization. So he doesn't count. Finally, I'd hate to break it to you, but the Santa we met when Paris was overwhelmed by giant attacking toys wasn't real. It was Chris Master's powers manifesting his interpretation of Santa: the Santa in his snow globe.” Ladybug rested a comforting hand on Chat Noir's arm.

“How do you know that wasn't the real Santa? He said he'd see us next Christmas Eve; tonight!”

“He said that because it was what Chris wanted Santa to say.”

“How do you know that, though?”

Ladybug's breath hitched, and she simply shrugged. “What? You can have Cat Intuition about how the Agreste mansion security works or the fact that Volpina had an illusion instead of the actual Adrien Agreste, but I can't have Ladybug Intuition about whether or not that was the real Santa?”

Chat Noir studied her for a tell, but eventually caved. “Okay, you got me on that second meet-up with Santa; that probably wasn't the real one. Although, you were the top of his Nice list, so maybe you should hope that your Ladybug Intuition was off, and that was really him.” He winked. She groaned. “Either way, he looked a lot like the man who got akumatized into Santa Claws, which means it could be possible that the man last Christmas was in fact the true Santa, but was posing as a regular citizen.”

“Why? Especially on Christmas Eve itself? Wouldn't he be too busy delivering gifts?” Ladybug tried to keep the smug look off her face, but Chat Noir's lips kept puckering more and more with each question. She could tell that he was trying to build up a rebuttal.

Chat Noir opened his mouth to respond, pointing at her in stunned silence. A second later he relented, shrugging in defeat instead. “Alright, so maybe we haven't met the actual Santa, but that doesn't mean he's not real.”

“He might have been, once. There could have been someone who spent Christmas Eve delivering gifts to the children of a very large area – so that it felt like it was the whole world to those people – and the legend of Santa came from that, but I don't know if I trust that he's still real.”

“Well, why not? I knew you could be pragmatic, but even this seems a bit much for you.”

“He'd be well over a millennium old, for starters.”

“Yeah, but what about Master Fu?”

“There's a bit of a difference between two-hundred and two-thousand years, Chat Noir.”

“Still, Master is as old as he is largely because of the magic of the Miraculouses, isn't he?”

“Possibly.”

“So why is it such a stretch that Santa has magic of his own, and part of it is the long life, or even immortality? The Miraculouses can't be the only form of magic within the whole world, can they?”

She gave it thought. “Alright, valid point. What about the gifts, though?”

Chat Noir lounged across the roof and dismissively waved his hand. “I already told you: magic. He probably has a bag with access to a pocket dimension or some-”

“No.”

Chat Noir rocked his head to the side. Ladybug pivoted to face him, folding her legs in front of her as she anchored her hands to her ankles.

“No,” she repeated, “I'm not even talking about the plausibility of him carrying all the gifts with him or getting in and out of people's homes. If I'm going to agree with him nearing two-thousand years old because of magic, I'll concede on those other magical parts.”

“Okay, so what's wrong with the presents then?”

Ladybug scooted closer to Chat Noir and leaned a little towards him, energy buzzing off of her. “If Santa Claus truly delivers presents every Christmas Eve, then why is it that most adults don't believe in him? Wouldn't him delivering gifts to their children convince the parents that he's real? Since a large portion – probably even a majority – of adults are also parents, wouldn't someone somewhere have factual evidence of his existence by now? Or, at least, wouldn't it be a much more widespread belief, even among adults, that he's alive?”

Chat Noir sat up, hugging one leg to his chest. His eyebrows furrowed, and he wouldn't look at Ladybug.

“I mean, think about it,” Ladybug continued, rolling onto her knees as she began to gesture wildly. “You and your wife wake up Christmas morning, and gather around the tree with your kid- You're picturing me as your wife, and imagining what our kid would look like, aren't you?”

Chat Noir sheepishly smiled and shrugged.

“Never mind that. Not the point.” Ladybug waved the thought away. “So your kid is opening up gifts, finds one that is labeled 'from Santa,' and unwraps it. You don't recognize this gift. You haven't purchased it for your kid. You may just think your wife must have gotten it and not told you, so you let it go. But this keeps happening every year, so you finally ask your wife, and she tells you she always thought you were the one who bought those gifts, because she certainly didn't. Isn't that suspicious? A random present from neither of you managed to make its way under your tree? Every year? Wouldn't you want to figure out who put it there? And you hear your friends – who are also parents – saying the same thing happened for each of their kids. Wouldn't that alone be enough evidence for most parents to believe that Santa must be real, because what other explanation is there for the mystery gifts?”

Chat Noir tapped his chin with two fingers, scanning the clouds for answers. “Yeah, I guess that's true.”

“On the flip-side, if Santa doesn't actually leave any presents - so that parents don't question where they came from - then why does it matter if he's real, because he still isn't going to be coming to everyone's houses unless it's to eat the cookies.”

“I got it!” Chat Noir snapped and turned back towards Ladybug, he was also up on his knees, waving excitedly. “Magic again.”

“How so?”

“Santa's magic is memory focused. He doesn't actually use chimneys – which really helps explain all those homes without fire places – instead, he arrives just before the parents lock up for the night, and he uses his magic to make them believe they already did. He then enters, leaves the present, and locks the door behind him as he goes on his merry way. His magic then makes the parents believe they had munched on the cookies to give the illusion of Santa, and that they were the ones who purchased the gift for little Julien. The question of 'who got him that present' never comes up, and Santa still remains a glorious holiday mystery.”

“What if the parents, still disbelieving of Santa, already bought little Mary a gift from 'Santa' and already ate the cookies before going to bed?”

“Then Santa saves on unneeded calories, and he switches up the 'Santa' for 'Mom and Dad'. Then his power works exactly the same way; except this time it also makes them think they didn't label the one gift as from 'Santa' at first.”

“It's still too many homes to leave presents for in one night.” Ladybug sat on her heels and crossed her arms.

“I thought you were going to concede on all of the 'other magic stuff'?”

Ladybug shrugged.

“Okay.” Chat Noir thought for a moment. “What if his powers also allows him to teleport? Or to slow time? Or to pause time? We have Miraculouses that could do some pretty crazy things, after all.” Chat Noir's ears perked and his belt-tail twitched as if it were real. “Wait a minute! What if Santa has a Miracle Box? That feast amuk was encased in stone before leaving Tibet, and we stopped it while it was still in Paris, so what if it didn't have a chance to make it to Santa to eat his Miraculous?”

“Master would have told me if Santa was one of the guardians.”

“What if he didn't know? What if there were Guardians secretly placed throughout the world, and for their safety, the monastery Master Fu trained at didn't have their names?”

“And he only uses the Miraculous once a year to provide extra Christmas gifts?”

Chat Noir started counting out his points on his fingers. “He's not using the Miraculous for his personal gain, so it's not breaking any rules. He's providing joy and wonderment to the world. He's making sure every kid gets at least one gift they'll love, regardless of the parents' financial or emotional standing. We don't know what he does with the rest of the year, so maybe he's protecting the world just like us, but with his memory-altering Miraculous powers, the world just never figures it out.”

Ladybug simply stared at Chat Noir. He held his ground and kept her gaze.

“Alright.” Ladybug pivoted on the roof ledge, and dangled her legs below her. “I relent that there's a possibility that Santa is real.”

“And a Miraculous Guardian?”

“It's a stretch, but I guess I can't argue against it. Not right now, anyway.”

“So does that mean you'll wait up for him?”

“No, that means there's no point. If he is real, and he does have a way of altering memories, then I doubt he'd let either of us remember seeing him. He's been doing this for over seventeen-hundred years, after all.” She gave Chat Noir a side smile.

“I guess that's true.” Chat Noir deflated a little and sat beside her.

“Besides, I thought you wanted to go to bed so you didn't chance missing out on your gift from him,” she teased.

Chat Noir curled into himself and blushed, again unable to look at Ladybug. She instantly knew she went too far. She couldn't say goodbye to him like that.

Ladybug detached her yo-yo, and looked intently at it. Chat Noir followed her out of the corner of his eye.

“Ladybug?”

She gave him the tiniest hint of a devilish grin while pressing a finger to her lips and shushing him. “Don't tell on me, okay?”

“Tell?”

Ladybug threw her yo-yo straight up, calling out “Lucky Charm!”

“What are you doing?” Chat Noir again hopped up onto his knees as he studied her. “What about no personal gain?”

The charm landed in Ladybug's hand, and she closed her fist around it before Chat Noir could make out the small red object with black spots.

“I think this one can be allowed.” Ladybug re-attached her yo-yo to her hip, and stood on the main portion of the roof. With Chat Noir still seated on the ledge, they were about eye-level.

He tried to spy her charm, but she kept her hand hidden behind her back. “So, what convoluted plan do you have for that?” He stood to try to look over her shoulder, but she blocked him with a stiff arm.

“Nothing too bad. Now sit back down.” She pushed gently on his chest, and he plopped his butt back onto the roof ledge. “Perfect.”

She then placed her hand in between them and unfolded her fingers. Resting on her palm was a tiny sprig of mistletoe, although, with the red coloring and black spots, it looked more like holly. With her spare hand, Ladybug held the Lucky Charm mistletoe sprig over their heads, then leaned in to kiss Chat Noir. Giddily, he rose to meet her, his hands reaching out for her waist as he puckered up and eyes fluttered closed.

She giggled, and used a finger to turn his head so she could kiss him on the cheek instead.

Chat Noir pouted and sunk back onto the roof. “You're supposed to kiss on the lips under a mistletoe.”

“Sorry, Kitty, but I do still love someone else.” She flicked his bell, and placed the sprig of mistletoe beside them. “I will give you one more gift though.” She cupped a hand on either side of his face, and pulled it towards her. Angling his head down a bit, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, and then rested hers against it. “Merry Christmas, Kitty.”

Chat Noir wrapped his arms around Ladybug and squeezed her close to him; breathing her in. “Thank you, Ladybug. Merry Christmas to you, too.”

She let him hold her for a moment, and she held him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. With their eyes closed, and the normally bustling city quiet with snow, it didn't feel like there was anyone else in all of Paris but the two of them. It only lasted a moment, but it was calming for them both.

He's right here, Ladybug thought, he's not Chat Blanc, and I'll stop him from ever feeling that desperate and alone.

She's here, Chat Noir thought, she loves someone else, but for right now she's here and I can pretend for a few seconds that I'm the one she's in love with.

The thought didn't make Chat Noir purr, as it usually did; instead, a small whimper escaped his throat.

“Chat Noir?” Ladybug leaned away from him, breaking the illusion.

“Sorry. I had a moment, but I'm fine. Thank you again for spending time with me tonight.”

“No problem, Kitty. As long as you don't want us to make a habit out of this.” She ruffled up his hair until he broke his hug in a giggling retreat. “You are a friend of mine, Chat Noir,” Ladybug continued in a serious tone. “I want to be here for you whenever you need me, and I do enjoy spending time with you, as long as you're not flirting.” She cocked an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest.

Chat Noir meekly smiled back as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Is my flirting really that bad?”

She simply raised the second eyebrow and pursed her lips.

“In love with another guy,” Chat Noir sighed, “Right.”

She took his hand and gave it a light squeeze. “You'll find someone. I promise. She'll see the amazing Chat Noir that I do, but she'll get to know your actual name, and her heart will be only for you.”

Before Chat Noir could respond – and Ladybug knew he wanted to – she let go, and lassoed a nearby light post. “Merry Christmas again, Chat Noir.”

He gave her a genuine smile in return. “Merry Christmas, M'lady.” He said nothing else, and Ladybug was grateful. Her earrings started rapidly beeping. It had only been about three minutes, but Tikki always seemed to wear out faster if Ladybug used her Lucky Charm for personal reasons. She probably didn't have much time left.

“Let me know if you do catch Santa,” Ladybug teased. She then scooped up the empty pastry boxes, and loosened the tension on her yo-yo, sling-shotting her through the Paris skyline.

Chat Noir looked at the discarded Lucky Charm sprig of mistletoe, and brought it up to his lips. The trinket cut their evening together short, but it was worth it for those kisses, and that hug. A couple of seconds later, the sprig burst into pink glitter that vanished in the air; like a miniature firework. Ladybug must have de-transformed, and the Lucky Charm vanished with her other superpowers.

Chat Noir no longer had his keepsake from the night, but he had his memories. Those were enough, and he trusted he'd make many more with Ladybug over the years.

Now he had to figure out how to capture Santa so he could prove to his lady that he was right.

19 notes · View notes