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It's the night before Christmas and all through their Parisian flat, Marinette and Adrien are scrambling to get everything ready for Christmas morning.
The children are nestled all snug in their beds, which means that it's time for Maman and Papa to race around making the Santa magic happen.
Marinette had meant to have everything ready to go weeks ago, but work had been so busy and then Hugo got sick and, as always happens, he got Marinette sick, and she's just been so very tired...and before she knew it, December 24 had arrived and she still hasn't wrapped a single present.
Adrien is in the process of carrying bundles of toys into the living room, which Marinette takes in with wondering eyes. While she appreciates that her husband had taken on the burden of the Christmas shopping this year, when it comes to the children he has a tendency to, well, go a little overboard. As demonstrated by the veritable sleigh full of toys littering the floor.
"Chaton, really?" she blurts. How are they ever going to get everything done in time? Little toy trains and tracks and blocks and cars and toy figurines and, and, and… This is going to take forever to wrap!
"I promise it's fair," he says. "I've been keeping careful track and Hugo and Louis have the same number of presents."
And even though that wasn't what she meant, she can't help but smile. "You're such a good Papa," she murmurs absently, her annoyance buried by affection.
(She completely misses the tender look he sends her way in response, though it wouldn’t have surprised her if she had seen it. Marinette is well aware by now of how important that is to Adrien: being a present and loving father. And he is. He very much is.)
They settle down to wrapping, each of them taking one of the piles designated for each boy and wrapping their presents in their designated paper to avoid any Christmas morning mixups.
They work in silence as the hour grows late, interrupted only by occasional requests to pass the scissors or to borrow a finger.
"Finally," Marinette groans as she tries to reach behind herself and to press against the tight knots in her lower back from being bent over the floor for so long. She could really go for a long winter's nap…
It doesn't take long before her hands are pushed aside to be replaced by her husband's, and she has to struggle to stay upright when her whole body just wants to melt from the perfect pleasure-pain of tight muscles being forced to relax.
"Better, Buguinette?" he asks after a few minutes, and she nods, standing.
She'd love to let him work his magic for hours, but it's late, she's tired and they're not finished yet. Still, she can't help the wave of overwhelming love that courses through her at his care. She definitely picked the right one. Thirteen year old Marinette might've been a ridiculous disaster, but she can't fault her taste in boys.
"We still need to fill the stockings and set up the Santa gifts."
"At least we don't have to wrap those."
"Thank goodness."
The stockings are hung by the gas fireplace with care. Meaning with masking tape because the boys take after their Maman and Marinette has heard the story of the time when she was two and pulled her stocking, complete with heavy ceramic holder, down on top of her head too many times to count. She'd rather not repeat her parents' experience of spending Christmas morning at the hospital having their child's head glued shut.
Her parents would never let her live it down anyway.
She fills the stockings as Adrien retrieves the Santa presents from their closet, and sets them in front of the fireplace, unwrapped with little wooden tags indicating which boy each gift is for as is their tradition.
"Do you want to eat the milk and cookies or should I?" Adrien asks, gesturing at the boys' offerings.
Marinette's stomach churns at the idea of milk. It's not particularly loving the idea of cookies either.
"Go ahead," she offers, snagging a candy cane off the tree. The cool taste of mint settles her, and she sucks on one end as she looks around, trying to check whether they've forgotten anything.
"I think we're all set," Adrien says. "We should go to sleep. You know the boys are going to be up before sunrise."
"I still don't understand how any child of mine could be an early riser," she grumbles.
"They take after their Papa."
Marinette's heart squeezes. "They do," she agrees warmly. "But before we go to bed, what do you think of opening one gift?"
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Aren't you the one who's always telling me I have to wait?"
"Well," she says, blushing, "my parents will be here in the morning, and I'd rather you opened this one without an audience."
"Oh?" He quirks a brow and gives her a heated look. "It's that kind of present, is it?"
"Nooooo, shut uppppp," she groans, blush intensifying. It's ridiculous that he can still get a rise out of her after all this time, but with all of the holiday craziness it's been a while and her hormones are going crazy. She gives his arm a playful whack while he laughs at her. "Just...wait here."
She disappears into their bedroom, retrieving the one gift she'd gotten around to wrapping before tonight from her nightstand, and returning to stand before him, holding it out.
"Merry Christmas, Adrien."
He shoots her a curious look as he takes the package from her. She's sure this small, narrow box, too small for lingerie, is not what he was expecting.
With careful fingers, he unwinds the wrapping paper, opens the box, and allows the small instrument inside to fall into his hands.
He looks from it to her and back to the test again.
"Really?" he breathes.
"Really."
And then his eyes, how they twinkle! His dimples, how merry! His cheeks bloom like roses and then he shakes as he breaks into delighted laughter before sweeping her into his arms and kissing her soundly.
"What positively amazing news! Merry Christmas indeed," he breathes. "And to all a good night."