Marinette's Secret Santa

3: One of a Kind

The orange light from the setting sun shines through the glass windows. Everyone is quickly finishing their tasks: clearing up the craft supplies, sweeping, gathering their things, and saying goodbye.

The friends would compliment Marinette again for her hard work which she'd reply with a thank you for theirs. Then they'd say bye to Alya with a hug or a high-five who was stuffing books into her backpack.

Marinette was tending to some paper-cut snowflake garland, trying to get just the right angle for the light to shine through.

Alya's phone began to ring and it practically slipped out of her hand when she saw who was calling her: Adrien.

Marinette was still too occupied with the garland to ask who was calling which gave Alya the out to sneak to the hallway to answer the phone. Something about a random call from Adrien gave her the vibe of 'do not let Marinette know'.

Once out in the hallway, Alya answers the phone. "Hello?"

"Alya!"

"Hey, Adrien, what's up?"

"Alya please I need your help?"

"With?"

"Well... I'm Marinette's secret Santa but I don't have a gift for her yet. I was hoping you had an idea of what I could get her?"

Alya could tell in his voice that Adrien was on his last leg and practically begging for an answer. She sighed and thought to herself how perfect the two are for each other.

"I can't believe you've waited till the last minute to get her a gift. There is a thing called the internet you can buy stuff from you know!"

Adrien sighed into the phone. "I know but I wanted to genuinely shop for her. To find the perfect gift."

Alya huffed. "Well, it's too late to go out and buy something. Try making her a card or something. I know she loved the lucky charm you made her. Do something like that."

"That's it! Thank you, Alya! Thank you!"

Adrien hung up the phone and ran to his closet pulling out a box of craft supplies. He started cutting paper and drawing, gluing strings and beads.

"Vualá!" He said holding up a handmade Christmas Card for Marinette.

"Hmm..." Plagg mutters.

"What?"

"You did all that for a Christmas card? No offense Adrien but I'm sure she gets lots of handmade cards from the kids she babysits." Plagg gulfs down a piece of cheese.

"Oh, man." Adrien tossed the card to the side and slouched on his couch. "I give up. There isn't anything I can do now."

"Don't say that. You're heart's in the right place it's just the execution was wrong. Maybe a handmade gift is the right choice but just not at this level. A unique piece would be perfect."

Adrien thought about it for a moment. "You're right Plagg. A specially designed and made piece for my special secret Santa!"

Adrien bolted out of his room and down the stairs to the door of his father's office. He stops to compose himself before gently knocking on the door.

"Enter."

Adrien sheepishly cracks the door open enough for his father to notice that it's him. Gabriel waves for him to enter then returns his attention to his tablet on the desk.

"Father?" Adrien starts.

"Please make it quick Adrien I just have to get these designs finished for the new year's collection." He says dragging his smart pen articulacy across the screen.

"Well, I was wondering if you could help me with something."

Gabriel stops and gives his son his undivided attention. "Help you?"

"Yes. You see I need a gift to bring to school tomorrow for our Christmas party and I was hoping you could help me make something for it."

"Is this part of a gift swap?"

"Kind of. It's secret Santa. I pulled Marinette's name. That's why I wanted your help in making something for her."

"Well, it's a little too late to make something now don't you think?"

Adrien dropped his shoulders his disappointment. "Oh, okay then. Don't worry about it."

"No," Gabriel stopped him "come with me."

Adrien followed his father as he walked out of the room and up the stairs. In part of the hallway, in front of a plain white door, they stopped. Gabriel jesters for Adrien to open the door.

When he does, an automatic light turns on revealing a large room full of clothes, shoes, handbags, and jewelry. Stunned, Adrien asks what the room was for.

Gabriel strolls into the room like a model on the red carpet, his feet light on the soft white rug, keeping his arms to his side and hands to himself. "This is my collection of many iconic pieces throughout the fashion industry. However, it started as your mother's personal closet."

Adrien's jaw dropped as he followed his father through the racks of coats, dresses, and shirts to that back with all the accessories.

"I know that this particular friend of yours is really into fashion. I'm sure she appreciates a one-of-a-kind piece." Gabriel noted as he picked up a plum-colored handbag. "What about this one? Think she'd like it? Or how about a pair of velvet navy blue pumps? They'd match her hair beautifully."

Just as Gabriel was getting into shopping his collection, Adrien turned his head to the jewelry where he spotted it: a sapphire and diamond embedded brooch with crystal detailing around the edges. The brooch sat in a black velvet box with the light from the room shining perfectly onto the gems.

In a trance, Adrien delicately picks the piece from its bed to admire it more. The way it sparkled as it turned under the fluorescent light made him wonder how it would look in natural light or even moonlight.

Adrien's wonder was quickly halted as Gabriel firmly grasped Adrien's wrist.

"Not that." He said calmly and coldly.

Adrien's instincts kicked in, placing the brooch back in its box. What once was a sense of light was now dimmed with fear. The way his father spoke, the way he grasped his wrist, his aura completely changing.

Surly the brooch meant something to him. It may have been an important piece to his mother.

Adrien apologized out of habit to his father. "Thank you for showing me this collection Father, I appreciated it. However, I don't see anything for my friend here. I'll return to my room now."

Adrien shuts the door leaving his father inside. Gabriel takes the brooch in his hand and caresses the sapphire like he would the face of a loved one. "I'm sorry my Emily. Some things are just harder to let go than others."