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As Marinette settled down into her bed with her homework, she heard a tap above her head.
Before she even looked up she knew what it was, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“Hide, Tikki!” she whispered, but Tikki was already gone. Marinette tipped her head back to see a familiar pair of bright green eyes peeking over her skylight. She stood to open it, and Chat Noir dropped down, landing in cat stance on her bed.
“You again,” she said.
“Me again.” He grinned with all his teeth. “Happy to see me?”
“Hardly! I have a lot of work to do, you know.”
Chat hopped over the railing of her bed and onto the floor. He walked over to her desk and plopped into the chair, right next to the plate of pastries she had prepared earlier, just in case he stopped by (not that she was hoping for it!).
“Purr-lease,” Chat said. “If you really wanted to be rid of me, you wouldn’t keep feeding me.” He stuffed a macaron in his mouth and leaned back in the chair with his hands behind his head. “You know what happens when you feed a stray cat.”
“Yeah,” Marinette said as she came down the stairs of the loft. “They keep coming back.”
“Exactly.” Chat swallowed. “That’s how I know you want me around. As long as there are pastries, I will always come back.” He waggled his eyebrows playfully.
Marinette scoffed. “Is that the only reason you come here?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” Chat threw another macaron into the air and caught it in his mouth. “Not everyone can get the best macarons in Paris for free whenever they want.”
“You’re right,” said Marinette. She snatched the plate away before he could grab another one. “It’s really not fair, is it? What do I get in return for all my labors?”
“Quality entertainment? World-class humor? The charming company of the coolest cat in France?”
“As if!”
“If you think about it, this is really payback for me. For all the times I’ve saved your life.” Chat stood and leaned in close so that their faces were just inches apart. Marinette could feel a blush blooming on her cheeks, and she hated herself for it.
“You’re welcome, princess.” With a wink, he snatched the plate of pastries back.
“Hey!”
“I accept your token of gratitude.”
Marinette folded her arms. “You know, I think it’s time you pulled your weight around here, kitty.”
“Whatever do you mean? Is constantly saving the city not enough for you?”
“No. I think it’s time you baked for a change.”
Chat paused with another macaron halfway to his mouth. “Me?”
“Yes, you. What’s the matter? Don’t think you can do it?”
Chat grinned sheepishly. “Heh, yeah, of course I can. I’m good at everything, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” Marinette said with a smug smile. “You tell me that practically every time I see you. So why don’t you prove it? Right now.”
“R—right now?”
“Yep. My parents aren’t home, so we have the bakery to ourselves.”
“Um, OK.” Chat set the plate of pastries back on the desk. “Prepare to be blown away by my incredible baking skills!”
Marinette smiled. “We’ll see about that.”
A few minutes later, they were down in the bakery with bowls and ingredients laid out on the counter. Marinette had to laugh at the sight of Chat Noir in a pink apron and chef’s hat.
“So, what should we make?” asked Chat. “Macarons?”
“Let’s start with something simple,” Marinette said. “Like … sugar cookies.”
“Sugar cookies,” Chat repeated. He looked around at the ingredients. “Those must have … sugar!” He grabbed the bag of sugar and shook some into his bowl. “Um … OK.”
Marinette watched him pointlessly stir the sugar around in the bowl. “Does the hero need some help?”
“No!” Chat said. “Cookies also have … flour!” He tipped some flour into the bowl, partially missing and dumping it on the counter. “Oops.”
“What’s next, baker boy?”
“Uh … eggs!” Chat carefully selected an egg from the carton and held it between his claws. He tapped it on the side of the bowl a little too hard, breaking the egg in half so that the yolk ran down the side.
Marinette laughed. At first, Chat frowned, but then he laughed too.
“So, ah, as it turns out … I’m pretty crumb-y at this,” he said. “Can the princess come rescue me now?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Marinette grabbed a new bowl and taught Chat how to cream the butter and sugar, crack the eggs, and sift in the flour. Chat was an attentive student, listening carefully and mimicking her movements when necessary. When it was time to measure the flour, he grabbed a knife and lifted the measuring cup to eye level to make sure it was perfectly even.
Marinette laughed. “It doesn’t need to be perfect!”
“Yeah, it does.” Chat slid the knife across the top of the cup. “There.”
Soon the dough was ready. Marinette sprinkled flour onto the counter and handed Chat the rolling pin.
“Hmm, so what you’re telling me is … just roll with it,” Chat said.
“Ha! I guess so.”
Together, they cut the cookies into paw print shapes and then slid them into the oven.
Marinette turned to Chat for a fist bump. “Pound it!”
Chat grinned. He had flour smudged on his cheek and across the nose of his mask. Marinette laughed.
“Come on, kitty,” she said, leading him by the hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
When the cookies had finished baking, Marinette let Chat put on the oven mitts (which he was thrilled about for some reason) and take out the tray.
“They look so good!” he said with glee. “I can’t believe I made these!” He turned to Marinette with a soft smile. “Thanks, Marinette.”
“We’re not quite done yet.” Marinette held up two piping bags full of green icing. “It’s time to decorate!”
When the cookies had cooled, they got to work. Marinette had decorated thousands of cookies in her life, so she was done with her share quickly. She turned to watch Chat and smiled. He was crouched down, slowly and painstakingly squeezing the icing onto each cookie. His tongue poked out between his lips as he concentrated. When he finished, he straightened up, looking proud. But his face fell when he saw Marinette’s cookies.
“Yours look perfect,” he said. “Mine look …”
“Just as tasty!” Marinette said. “That’s the most important thing about a cookie, right?” She picked up a cookie and handed another one to Chat. “Go ahead! The best part of baking is sampling your work.”
Chat sank his teeth into the cookie.
“Mmm! I already knew I was amazing, but I really outdid myself this time.”
“Yep,” Marinette said.
“But not without your help, princess.” Chat winked. “Thanks for saving me.”
“Don’t worry,” Marinette said. “I’ll always be around to save the day.”
It had been a few days since Chat had visited. And in the meantime, there had been no akuma attacks, so Marinette hadn’t seen him at all, even as Ladybug. She frowned at the plate of pastries on her desk, listening to the thrum of rain on the rooftop. There was no way he would come today. Not in this downpour.
But just then, there was a tap at her skylight. “Hide, Tikki!” she whispered as she scrambled up the steps. Chat was dripping wet when she let him in. His normal floof of blond hair was soggy and limp. He shook it out, flinging droplets of water all over her bed.
“Hey, watch it! What are you even doing out in the rain?”
Chat grinned, his green eyes seeming even brighter than usual. “I brought you something.” He hopped down from the bed and bowed, holding out a plastic container. “For you, princess.”
Marinette took off the lid and peeked inside to see a mess of pink frosting.
Chat’s smile slid into a frown, his black ears drooping.
“Aw! They’re ruined. I’ve been practicing. I wanted to get them just right for you.”
“Well, that’s what happens when you jump around on rooftops with a tub of cookies,” Marinette said. “They’re not exactly durable. But … you know what? I think they’re perfect.”
“Really?”
“Really! They still look just as tasty—”
“—and that’s the most important part of a cookie,” Chat finished with a smile.
They sat together on Marinette’s chaise, Chat still holding the tub.
“I made them like little crowns,” he said. “For a princess. And they’re pink! Your favorite color.”
“I noticed,” Marinette said. “That was sweet of you.”
“Wait … was that a pun?”
“Maybe.”
Chat smiled. “Thanks for teaching me.”
Marinette leaned in close to Chat, so close that their noses were almost touching. She saw him blush under his mask and smirked. “You’re welcome, Kitty,” she said softly. Then she winked and snatched the cookies from him. “I accept your token of gratitude.”
Chat laughed, and for the next few hours they sat together, talking and staining their fingers with icing and watching the rain fade away until the only thing left between them were a few crumbs and a secret.