Miraculous Reveals and More (A collection of One-Shots)

Tis the Damn Season (8500 words)

Winter descended on Paris like a clean sheet on a mattress. Snow fluttered through the air, giving everyone and everything a fresh look, a new perspective on what was always there. Snow covers the small everyday flaws, turning the mundane into something breathtaking.

The snow and twinkling Christmas lights glitter in Marinette's eyes through the fogged-up windows of the cab she's in. She had forgotten how beautiful the snow could be after studying and interning in Los Angeles for three years. This will be the first Christmas she's spent in Paris in three years, too.

Now that she's more established in her field and workplace, she was finally able to get some off time, long enough to make a trip back home worthwhile. It's 3 days before Christmas, and she'll be catching a flight back to L.A. on the afternoon of the 26th.

Her parents made sure she kept in touch every day, even flying out to LA for New Year's once the Christmas rush was over at the bakery. God, how she missed the warmth of their bakery, the smells.

The cab pulls up to the glass doors. "Happy holidays" the driver calls back as Marinette gathers her duffel bag and rolling suitcase from next to her.

"Happy holidays! Thank you!" She tries to wave before closing her door but she gets tangled in the strap of the bag over her shoulder, it catching on the buttons of her red wool coat.

She smiles awkwardly and shuts the cab door, straightening herself out while the cab pulls away.

The chime on the bakery door alerts her parents to her arrival, even above the dozen or so customers browsing and buying and tasting their work. Their heads turn, expecting to greet a customer, but their faces instead light up with delight upon seeing their daughter.

"MARINETTE!" Her mom cries, quickly shuffling out from behind the counter and between customers.

Mari opens her arms to receive her mom's embrace, returning it with the same intensity.

"Sorry we couldn't pick you up, we're just so swamped" She apologizes.

"No worries! You know I completely understand." She assures. "I'll go put my bags upstairs and I'll come help you guys out down here."

"No, no. You go up and relax; you just spent 10 hours on a plane." She insists, ushering her towards the counter and stairs.

"Exactly! I basically slept for 10 hours. I need to move around! I might be a little rusty on my baking though," she admits.

Her dad finishes with a customer and meets Marinette as she rounds the counter, wrapping her in a hug. "Let her help if she wants, Sabine." He directs at Mari, "You can work the counter with mom. I've got a few things to rotate in the back."

Marinette nods, determined to help. She dashes upstairs, tossing her bags onto the couch and slipping out of her coat. Underneath, she's wearing an oversized, pink sweater and black leggings. Not the most flattering look, but it is the most comfortable one for sitting on a plane for hours. She rolls up her sleeves and ties her hair into a stubby ponytail, then grabs an apron from the stairwell on her way back down.

She falls easily into the role she usually played in the bakery. While her dad continuously bakes fresh items in the back, Marinette refills the display case and retrieves the pastries and goods that customers want, then her mom checks them out at the register. Like a well-oiled machine.

As the next couple hours pass, a few customers, regulars, greet Marinette by surprise, happy to see her home. They ask what she's been up to, how's university and her internship: the usual questions.

She responds with equal enthusiasm to these customers who, many, watched Marinette grow up behind this counter, from a time where she could barely see over it, to the present. These customers were always her favorites.