7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Ladybug watched Chat Noir from across the street. They stood as two statues facing one another for what felt like an eternity. She'd looked away once to see if he would run again. He hadn't.

Her heart thudded, a bass drum in her ears.

This was the moment of truth. Had he made a turn for the better, like she'd hoped? The frigid sensation racing up her back told her it wasn't. He was far too tense, hands knotted into fists, shoulders as rigid as a steel beam.

"Give me your Miraculous," he called.

She sighed.

He pulled out his staff, she her yo-yo.

"This is your last warning." His voice held no snark, nor heat. It was as cold as the ice filling her veins.

She shivered.

Extending his staff, he lifted it overhead and leapt for her. The blunted end landed where she stood only a second ago, roof tiles cracking under the impact.

She hurled her yo-yo at his head, praying for a quick end to the fight, but he deflected it and closed the distance between them with a vicious swipe.

Ducking, she kicked at his legs. He jumped, avoiding contact. Yo-yo and staff twirled and jabbed, high and low, to the sides and back, so quickly they were a blur.

They moved around one another, a deadly dance.

She spun, throwing her yo-yo at him, then lashed out with a kick. After sliding backwards, he fell to his hands and knees, a grunt escaping his lips.

"Are you okay?" she asked in concern.

He answered with a lunge and a swing that caught her in the side. She winced. That was going to leave a bruise.

Don't let him catch you off guard, Marinette, Tikki said. He's not holding back.

"Yeah, I noticed," she muttered, immediately having to block another attack.

She backflipped away from him to create more distance, but he anticipated her move. As soon as her feet touched the rooftop, his staff punched her in the chest, then lengthened, pushing her back and pinning her against a chimney. Roof tiles had broken off the building as she'd dug her heels in to stop him. They clattered to the street below.

"Looks like I've caught you," Chat said, walking to her, the staff shortening with each step he took.

Hurling her yo-yo overhead—Chat lifted a brow at her seemingly bizarre action—it latched onto an antenna, the string pulled taut. She smiled and jerked down on her weapon with all her might.

The metal equipment tumbled toward them, forcing him to retreat from her. Its multiple prongs speared the rooftop. She released her yo-yo, throwing it again, and, this time, caught his legs. Before he could slip out of the trap, she pulled his feet out from under him.

He landed hard on his back, then spun up to his feet, staff swinging for her.

She leapt to a street lamp before jumping to the top of a car.

They bounded across Paris, attacking and dodging, springing away and darting in. More of his strikes than she cared to count had landed. Her limbs were heavy with fatigue, her lungs burned, and her side balked each time she moved.

Thankfully, he wasn't fairing much better. Chat's hair was heavy with sweat; he favored a side, which she made sure to take advantage of; and his chest heaved as he sucked in air.

They didn't use their special powers, even though Tikki had suggested it. It was just them, desire pitted against desire, skill against skill.

She grit her teeth and threw her yo-yo at his staff, trying to catch it, but he was too fast. And she was too tired.

Sirens blared.

A police van barreled their way with a whole string of them trailing behind.

Her mouth fell open.

The vans sped between her and Chat, cutting off their view of one another. Then Alya ran to Ladybug with her phone held up, most likely recording her. "Go, Ladybug."

"What?" Her soggy brain barely made out her words.

"Go! They're giving you a chance to escape."

Ladybug nodded and darted into the shop behind her.

A woman had been standing outside, holding the door open for her. "Go to the back. There's a car in the alley waiting for you."

There wasn't time to express her gratitude, so she hoped she at least looked thankful.

In no time, she was in the car, lying on the back seat, trying to catch her breath.

"Where to?" a familiar voice asked. Nino. She wouldn't be surprised if Alya had orchestrated this whole rescue attempt.

"Wherever," she managed to say.

He nodded and drove. "I can take you back to my place until it's safe for you to leave. My fiancé will probably faint from excitement, though. She's your biggest fan, runs the Ladyblog."

They merged with the other cars, blending in perfectly. The street she and Chat had been fighting on was cordoned off, forcing everyone to travel alternate routes and slowing down traffic.

"Thank you," she said.

"No prob. That was one nasty fight. Worst one yet."

It ranked up there with falling off a building, that was for sure. Who knows if she'd be able to walk tomorrow.

"Everyone's rooting for you. You'll stop him."

She pushed herself up and sat with her forehead resting on the cool window. It felt nice against her flushed skin. She'd been sweating as much as Chat had.

"I appreciate it," she finally said. She didn't know if she could stop Chat, but, at least, she had the city behind her.

oOoOo

Marinette woke up to the morning sun streaming in through the windows. She stretched and immediately regretted it. Her muscles cramped and her side protested with a burst of pain.

She groaned and looked at her phone charging on the nightstand. Eleven o'clock.

"How are you feeling?" Tikki asked.

"Like I fell while competing in the Running of the Bulls."

Her kwami giggled. "If it's any consolation, I'm sure Chat Noir isn't feeling much better."

The memories of last night rushed back to her like a deluge of water from a collapsed dam. Chat and her had fought like they never had before. What happened to him? He'd been softening toward her. And then, bam, a one-eighty.

She slithered out of bed, trying her best not to engage any muscles. Would she look weird if she crawled everywhere today?

Alya wouldn't notice. She'd spent time with Ladybug last night and was probably still floating in astonished glee. Surprisingly, she'd been cool about finding Ladybug in their flat. She'd even given her space to rest and gather herself. Marinette had expected an explosion of questions, lights, and cameras. Instead, they'd made her soup—she'd been too tired to chew.

Ladybug would have to send them flowers.

Now on her feet, a momentous achievement, she walked to the bathroom with legs made of jello and got ready for the day. It was a slow, arduous process, but she survived it.

The biggest challenge was the stairs. She clung to the railing and stopped on each step. A couple times, she'd considered parking her butt right there and calling it quits, at least for a couple hours. But the thought of Adrien finding her like that suffused her muscles with enough energy to climb down the Mount Everest of stairs. Sure, there were probably only twenty steps, but that was twenty too many.

Catching sight of Adrien lounging on the couch, she straightened and painted on a normal, content expression. She walked into the living room where he watched the news.

"Well, good morning, sunshine," he said, smiling at her.

He had such a nice smile.

She returned the gesture, certain it didn't look half as grand as his had. "I didn't realize I was that tired. Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize to me." He bent his long legs and told her to sit. "You're moving slowly today."

Carefully controlling her face, she nodded. "I fell again."

He lowered his brows.

"I was carrying an armful of to-go boxes to a customer's car and tripped over something in the road. I managed to save the pastries."

"But not yourself." He chuckled. "You're too much, Marinette."

She eased down onto the couch, sinking gratefully into its cushiony depths.

"You look like you need an Advil." He reached to the coffee table and tossed her the bottle.

"You're feeling sore too?" she asked while opening the lid. He didn't normally have pain killers lying around.

He looked back to the tv. "Just an extra hard workout yesterday. Nothing crazy."

After taking two pills, she settled back, and listened to the anchorwoman talk about the epic Ladybug and Chat Noir fight. Much of it had been caught on camera and experts were critiquing it, from their fighting style, predicting who could beat whom, to their mannerisms, and subtle tells that apparently said much about their relationship.

"They've finally waged war," he said. "Hard to believe, huh?"

She murmured an agreement. Ladybug didn't want war, though. She just wanted her partner back.

Her stomach grumbled.

"Hungry?" He flashed her another dazzling smile.

"Yeah, but it's okay. I don't want to get up."

"Must be bad to willingly starve yourself." He stood with a suppressed groan. "I'll get you something to eat."

"You don't have to."

She caught his hand to stop him from going, and he turned hers over to kiss her knuckles.

"I don't mind at all. Really," he added at her dubious expression.

As soon as he was in the kitchen, out of view, she fell back and fanned herself. Adrien Agreste had just kissed her hand like an old-fashioned gentleman. Of course, she was swooning like an old-fashioned lady, but she didn't care. She'd wear a girdle and a petticoat everyday if it meant him brushing those soft lips across her knuckles.

"Is a sandwich okay?" he called.

She said yes, and, soon, he came back with two plates of food. They ate their lunch together in silence. Nothing else was on tv besides the fight breakdown and eye-witness accounts, so he turned on a movie. She, honestly, had no idea what it was about. Following a plot was impossible with him so near.

Empty plates on the table, they found themselves spread out on the couch with their legs alongside one another.

"What's that smell?" he asked with a sly smile.

She took a whiff and caught nothing. "I don't smell anything."

"I think it's your feet."

Scoffing, she jabbed his hip with her toes. "They do not. I took a shower before coming down—" Her last word was swallowed in a gulp of surprise.

He'd caught her foot and started massaging it. Thankfully, his focus was entirely on his task because she might've been gaping, possibly even drooling. His fingers were like magic, finding the tight spots and gently working them to extinction.

She was dead. There was simply no other explanation for this wondrous experience.

oOoOo

Adrien might've been flirting. Hard. But she didn't seem to notice, acting as she usually did around him. That was both bad and good. Part of him wanted her to notice. How else would she realize he was into her and drop Nathaniel? But, in case she didn't actually like him more than a friend, her not realizing didn't make things weird between them. It was frustrating.

She shifted, grimacing from the small movement. He wasn't entirely certain he believed her story. She was as clumsy as she'd been back at Dupont, but something was off.

And it wasn't her feet. She smelled like a field of flowers at dusk, not cloying or overwhelming. Just a faint scent that made him salivate.

Her phone rang.

And it kept doing so.

"You going to get that?" he asked.

She lazily opened her eyes, then jolted when she realized someone was calling her. He had to hold back a laugh.

After checking the ID, her eyes widened and she sat straight up. "Nathaniel! I'm so sorry. I completely forgot...Yeah, I'm on my way."

"You're meeting him again? So soon?" They had dinner like two nights ago.

She said goodbye to Nathaniel and hung up. "I didn't get a chance to go look at his artwork, so he invited me over today."

"Lovely," he muttered.

"What was that?" she asked as she slowly made her way to her feet.

"You probably shouldn't be going out after hurting yourself."

She held back a smile, but it still shined through, making his heart pick up speed. "I'll be fine."

Following her to the door—they made a pitiful procession—he asked if she wanted a ride there, so she wouldn't have to walk.

"Moving will be good for me, work out the kinks and whatnot." She put on her shoes and lingered at the door. "Thanks for making me lunch and for the Advil."

As soon as she was gone, he transformed with Plagg saying, "Not again," as he was sucked into the ring.

Seriously? I thought you weren't going to be creepy anymore and stop spying on her.

He jumped to the rooftop and followed her to Nathaniel's building. "She's going to his place, Plagg. I have to make sure she's safe alone with him."

You're not going to sneak into his flat are you?

"No, I'll just be listening for any sign of a struggle. Then I'll burst through the window and drag him out, hang him upside down over the Seine until he swears to leave Marinette alone."

You've thought way too much about this.

"I have." He settled behind a stone facade and watched as Nathaniel opened the door with a shy smile and gestured her inside.

Chat dug his claws into the stone, cracking one of the blocks in half. It fell to the rooftop by his knees. He brushed himself off and settled back, ears pricked for her melodic voice.

Time passed like winter molasses pouring from a clogged container. He crushed several more stones out of boredom, grinding them to dust and small chunks, then organizing them into piles based on size.

There was nothing, not a scream, nor a muffled plea for help. He stayed vigilant, though. Marinette's safety depended on it.

Can I just say—

"Shh, I need to listen."

—that I don't think he's going to hurt her.

He sighed and leaned back against the short wall. "I don't think so either."

But it is great you care enough to ensure her safety. Kind of reminds me of the old days.

Rolling his eyes, he said, "I'm still the bad guy."

Oh, I know. Last night proved that.

He winced. For some reason, he cared what the kwami thought of him. His father saw it as a weakness, that he was too attached. Gabriel had nearly taken his Miraculous from him because of it.

But he had to be cold steel, so he ignored the tendrils of guilt weaving around his neck like a noose.

The door opened, and he spun around to peek over the edge.

Marinette was smiling and making her goodbyes when Nathaniel leaned toward her, lips puckering for a kiss.

Before he knew what happened, a tiny chunk of the stonework he'd pulverized earlier flew from his hand to nail the redhead on the shoulder.

"Ouch," Nathaniel exclaimed, leaning back and grabbing his arm. "I think a bee got me."

Marinette scanned the building's across them, but he dropped out of sight before her gaze reached his location.

Satisfaction bloomed in his chest, sending a tidal wave of delight throughout him. A grin formed, stretching from ear to ear.

You sure are proud of yourself.

"I am."

Marinette consoled Nathaniel, then made her leave, sans kiss.

Chat followed from a distance, practically skipping.

AN - Thank you for reading and leaving kudos!

Once winter break is over, I think I can start posting twice a week. Maybe more. I'm having so much fun writing this story, I do so every chance I get.

Thanks, sister, for looking this over. We mainly go over it for the story and major typos. So if anyone ever notices something, let me know and I'll happily fix it.

Update: edited.