Seven Seconds

Whooshie Hair

"So what do you think?" Marinette asked, gesturing to the fabric sprawled across her work desk that evening.

Chat Noir picked up the different pieces and examined each one. "I love them. You did a great job, Princess."

"Thank you," she replied with a smile.

"Can I pay you back for everything you had to buy?"

"No, you cannot. You helping me is payment enough."

He frowned. He really didn't like Marinette spending her own money on something for him.

"Trust me," she continued, seeing his expression. "I'm going to get my money's worth out of free labor from you."

That got him to smile a little. "Alright boss, what do we do first?"

"Well that's actually going to be the trickiest part. I uh, I have to measure you."

"And why is that tricky? It seems pretty straightforward."

"Well," Marinette murmured, picking up her measuring tape and twirling it around her fingers. "This suit is for you when you're detransformed. So I would need to measure you that way."

He blinked at her. "So... you need me to detransform?"

She nodded, not making eye contact. "Yeah, just for a few minutes. I'll close my eyes the whole time. You'll just have to tell me the numbers on the tape." A pause. "If that's okay with you, of course."

"Yes Princess," Chat Noir said emphatically. "That's completely okay with me."

"Alright, awesome." Then she squeezed her eyes shut. "Go ahead."

A nod. "Claws in."

As the transformation wore off, Plagg appeared. He immediately crossed his arms across his chest and glared at Adrien. Unsurprisingly, he was not amused.

Adrien responded with a weak smile and quickly got him a piece of Camembert as an apology.

In a flash the cheese was out of his hand and the kwami flew across the room before disappearing.

With an eye roll Adrien faced Marinette. "Uh, okay. I'm all set," he said awkwardly.

She nodded and reached out her hand. "Where are you?"

He stepped forward and clasped her hand with his. "I'm right here, Princess."

"It's... strange to feel your skin instead of your glove," she said, smiling.

"It's wonderful," he whispered back. He almost felt like crying, he had missed that feeling so much. It had only been a few weeks. It felt like so much more.

"Yeah, it is," she agreed. "But it's time to get to work, Chaton. First I need to measure your neck."

"Do... do you want me to take my shirt off?" he offered quietly.

She froze, her cheeks lighting up. "Uh no, that won't be necessary."

"But if it helps you get better measurements..." he said before trailing off.

After a moment of thought, Marinette nodded. "Okay," she squeaked out.

Hearing the confirmation, Adrien let go of her hand and took his jacket off, which was quickly followed by his shirt. "Ready."

She hesitantly reached forward, finding his bare chest with her hand. Her cheeks burning brighter, she wrapped the measuring tape around his neck. Marking the spot with her finger, she released the tape. "What number is this?"