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“No, no, no,” Adrien muttered as he leaped from building to building, his ring beeping warningly. He was about to detransform any minute, but alleys and rooftops seemed to be the new hang out place today. Teens smoking behind the rubbish bins, an old man polishing boots, Mr Banana trying to catch a monkey.
Mr Banana trying to catch a monkey?
Adrien yelped as he almost crashed into a billboard. (Of himself, of course—the one where he was wearing angel wings and looked like he was halfway through a magical girl transformation, probably about to go catch some Clow Cards.) Too bad there was a couple canoodling under the billboard, gaping at him like startled fish, or he would have ducked behind it and destransformed there.
Beep, beep, beep, beep!
Damn it. This was not the time to get distracted.
“Uh, you guys look great together,” he said, giving thumbs up, and jumped over the couple’s heads and landed on the next building.
People stopped on the street and waved up at him. A little kid on a balcony squeaked with glee and tried to grab his tail. Then a loud thwup, thwup, thwup deafened his ears, and wind swooshed his hair everywhere.
“Are you kidding me?” he groaned as a helicopter passed overhead, video cameras filming.
Was he being punished? Did he offend a day-ruining deity this morning? Even when he’d tried to go home, he’d found it impossible to get inside, as cleaners were busy cleaning the windows and a bunch of gardeners were about doing maintenance. All of his routes to avoid the security cameras had been blocked.
“Look, it’s Chat Noir!”
Gah! Why did he have to be so popular today?
He vaulted away with his baton, panic swelling in his chest and sticking to every breath. Then his panic turned to horror as he realised he was about to land on a pot-bellied dude bending over a basket of washing. Reflexes kicked in, and Adrien managed to avoid kicking the dude in the butt, but his foot snagged on the clotheshorse and knocked it over. (And got a pair of pink heart boxers stuck to his boot. Seriously, people actually wore those? Did they want to be a living cartoon cliché?)
“Sorry!” he called, already jumping to the next building. “I’ll buy you a new pair!”
How many seconds did have left now? Ten? Five?
A familiar balcony caught his gaze, decorated with flower pots and fairy lights. Had he really gone full circle and ended up back at Marinette’s house?
“Screw it,” he muttered.
The skylight was open. There was no time left. He’d just have to take the risk.
He dropped inside the skylight and appeared right in front of Marinette, who was sitting on her bed.
“Chat Noir, what—”
He threw her blanket over her head. Green light flashed and snatched his superhero suit with it.
“Hey!”
She started to pull the blanket off, but he pounced on her and held her down, keeping her trapped under the blanket.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he said, his heart lodged in his throat, “but I need you to stay there.”
“Are you crazy? Get off!”
A knee crashed into his stomach and his breath disappeared in a graceless wheeze. He fell back off the bed—and took her with him. They crashed on the floor, groaning and entangled. The blanket slipped. His mind was a white noise of protect identity, protect identity! Maybe that’s why he wrapped his arms around her and smooshed her face against chest.
“Let me go, you—”
She froze. It was so abrupt that he was shocked into paralysis as well, his heart pounding wildly. Her hand patted at his shirt, then wriggled up so that she could touch where his bell should have been.
“You’re not transformed,” she breathed.
He swallowed audibly. “About that. Sorry for freaking you out. I, uh, panicked.”
“It’s okay. I get it now, but what are you doing here?”
“I didn’t plan on it, believe me. I was trying to find a place to hide so I could detransform, but I was running out of time and there were too many people around.”
“So you came to my room?”
“Seemed the safest option.”
“You have a weird idea of what safe means. Did you already forget that you almost revealed your identity to me?”
“That’s why I came here,” he said simply. “If I had to risk revealing my identity to someone, I’d rather it be you.”
Silence.
Wait, had that come out wrong? Why was she being so quiet? He wished he could see her expression.
“Hey, Chat Noir?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you plan on transforming again any time soon, or are you going to keep me trapped here?”
Heat surged across his cheeks. “Oh, sorry.” His gaze darted about her room until he spotted Plagg sitting on her computer desk. “What are you waiting for? You know where the cheese is.”
“Didn’t want to interrupt,” Plagg said with a sly smile. “You two seemed so comfortable snuggling with each other.”
Adrien’s blush darkened. “Plagg!” he hissed. Trust that nasty little gremlin to turn their current situation into something much less innocent.
Plagg grinned and then swooped down, snatching the cheese from Adrien’s pocket. One gulp was all it took and then Adrien was suited up again. Thank goodness. There was no saying what Plagg would say next.
“I’m really sorry about this,” he said, releasing Marinette. “I swear it won’t happen again.”
She crawled off him, her freckled cheeks dusted with pink. “Don’t worry about it. We can’t have all of Paris discovering your identity, right?”
“Right.”
More silence.
He bit his lip and fidgeted with his ring. Awkward. This was so awkward. He didn’t even know why—only that it was suddenly difficult to meet Marinette’s gaze, and his heart kept stumbling and quickening like it had forgotten how to keep a steady beat.
Marinette cleared her throat. “Um, so I guess you’ll be heading off then.”
“Yes!” He scrambled to his feet. “I just remembered I have to—have to help Mr Banana catch a monkey.”
“Sounds serious.”
“It is!”
They stared at each other. His cheeks burned hotter.
Damn it, this was all Plagg’s fault. If only he’d kept his stupid mouth shut and not made things weird.
“Anyway, I gotta go,” he said. “That monkey isn’t going to catch itself. Seeya around, Marinette.”
He pulled finger guns and fled through the skylight.