They call it the season of giving

I'm here, yours for the taking

They call it the season of giving

I'm here, I'm yours

--Michael Bublé, "Cold December Night"

Christmas Eve in Paris was always a beautiful time; the City of Lights had an even more ethereal beauty to it with the snowfall and the twinkling of the Christmas lights.

Chat Noir and Ladybug looked out over the city from atop the Arc de Triomphe, a blanket spread beneath them to protect them from the cold stone. Between them sat a picnic basket with pastries and a thermos of hot chocolate, lovingly hand-made. "So, Chat, what's your Christmas wish this year?" Ladybug asked.

"Hmm…" Chat Noir thought for a long moment, reaching up to brush snowflakes from his bangs with a clawed hand. "I think it would probably have to be that Hawk Moth turns himself in, so we don't have to fight any more Akumas. What about you, Ladybug?"

Ladybug reached for another cream puff, biting into it and chewing as she thought. "I mean, I don't want to steal your answer, so… I'll say that I wish for good luck in applying for an internship in the spring."

"That's fair. Well, whatever program you're in, I'm sure you'll get a great internship. You can do anything you set your mind to!"

Ladybug couldn't help but smile. "Thank you for the vote of confidence, Chaton. Oh! I almost forgot!" Digging into the picnic basket, Ladybug pulled out a thin, rectangular box with a red bow attached to the front. "It's not much, but… I wanted to make you something special."

Chat Noir's eyes widened, his fingers trembling as he accepted the gift. "Bugaboo, you shouldn't have…"

"I wanted to, Chat. I was making gifts for all my other friends, and, well, I can't forget my partner, can I?"

"Thank you, Ladybug… that's paw-fully sweet of you." Chat's claws ripped through the paper and ribbon to get to the box inside. When he finally got into the box, he let out an audible gasp as he drew out a sweater. But not just any sweater--it was clearly handmade, soft wool in a green so dark it was nearly black. Emblazoned across the front were the words "Meow-y Catmas!" in bright green, with the face of a black cat wearing a Santa hat below. "B-Bugaboo… I… I love it!"

"I hoped you would!" Chat's happiness was infectious, bringing a smile to Ladybug's face.

"But--I don't have anything for you…" Chat's face fell at the realization.

Ladybug shook her head quickly. "You don't need to give me anything, Chaton. I just wanted to make you something special to thank you for being my partner all these years."

"I know, but they say this is the season of giving, and I…" Chat trailed off for a moment, his cheeks flushing red. "The only thing I can give you is myself. I'm yours for the taking, if you want me."

"Chat, I…" Ladybug's cheeks flushed as well, rivaling her costume in color. "If you're sure…"

Before Chat Noir could reply, Ladybug's lips were on his. Eyes widening comically, it took him a moment to return the kiss, but once he'd recovered he did so eagerly. Her mouth was soft and warm, and when he swiped his tongue across her lips, she opened to him without hesitation. Her mouth tasted of hot cocoa and whipped cream, making him groan. Chat pulled her closer until she was practically in his lap, both of her legs on one side of his as he changed the angle of their kiss. When they parted, Ladybug's bluebell irises only a thin ring as she gasped for air. Chat's eyes were similar, pupils blown wide.

"That was…" Chat buried his face in Ladybug's neck, holding her tight. "God, Bugaboo…"

Ladybug slid her hand up the back of Chat's neck into his hair, lightly tugging until she could look down into his eyes. "I need to get going, Chaton… but after Christmas, let's talk about us." Chat nodded, his gulp audible in the quiet night. She pressed another soft kiss to his lips briefly, a promise of good things to come. "Merry Christmas, Chat."

"Merry Christmas, Ladybug."