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Published:
2015-12-26
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2015-12-29
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13,184
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2/2
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Perfectly (Imperfect)

Summary:

He stretched out his clawed hand, perched delicately on his overextended staff in the attempt to offer her a safe place to land. She saw shards of darkness leap off his fingers. Bad luck in the flesh as it whirled like stinging ice.

She heard bolts grinding and snapping.

“No!” Chat Noir yelled, half at her and half at the power that lived in his body, the power that sought to destroy them both.

Chapter 1: You're Imperfect

Notes:

February 14, 2024

Hey everyone. You may have noticed my account and half my stories were recently unavailable. AO3 suspended my account for violating the ‘No Commercialization’ policy because I said the words, “Please check out [a book],” followed by the book’s summary.

When I tried to appeal the decision, I was told by AO3’s abuse agent that “the only way to read [the book] is to pay for it. It is, therefore, a commercial product available for sale, and may not be advertised on the Archive.” If AO3 is interpreting their ‘No Commercialization’ policy as not being able to mention anything that you (might) have to pay to enjoy, I worry about our future on AO3.

The ‘No Commercialization’ policy also “includes anything that might be in any [of your] other works (including all tags, notes, and comments posted by both you and others).” So please no one ask what the book was as even mentioning it in the comments is breaking AO3’s rules. Again, it worries me how AO3 is interpreting this policy.

So, I’ll be redacting any of my author’s notes where I included mentions of music, playlists, TV shows, movies, books, art, informative links, etc… Since Facebook is currently free to use, I’ll transfer anything that seems important to the story’s enjoyment on my ParadiseAvenger writer’s page.

Thanks for your support over the years. Be careful on AO3, everyone.

Chapter Text

I tripped over this fandom quite by accident. It was in a ‘Best CGI Couples’ video that I was watching and I thought it looked interesting. Come to find that I binged through the first thirteen episodes and here I am now. The whole time I was watching this show, I kept thinking, ‘They are so comfortable touching each other.’

Inspired by One Direction’s song, “Perfect.” This lovely video which set it to Chat Noir: [redacted, link]

X:You’re:X:Imperfect:X

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was still trying to get the hang of this whole superhero thing. Up until a few weeks ago, she had been just a normal girl with normal worries—school, her fashion designs, her part-time job at her parents’ bakery, her crush that was going nowhere fast. Now, she had been transformed into Ladybug by a magic so ancient that she could not even begin to understand it, despite history being her best class. Sucking in a deep breath, every ounce of her focus honed in on chasing Prince Un-Charming across the roofs of Paris.

Leaping across the gap created by the many narrow side streets, Marinette landed unsteadily. Her foot slipped at the instant of landing, slid slightly, found purchase in a leaf-filled gutter, and then she sprang away again. Her heart pounded, but she wasn’t short of breath yet. In her ear, in her very heart and soul, she felt encouragement from her newfound friend and companion, Tikki, who allowed her miraculous transformation into Ladybug. Basking in it, she barreled after Prince Un-Charming.

A gap reared up before her. It was the span of an entire street with room for parking on both sides. Prince Un-Charming plowed on without hesitation, clearing the gap in a single bound with his cape flapping behind him. His twisted love song floated on the night breeze, mocking her. Marinette wasn’t certain she could make the leap as easily and she clutched her yoyo as a lifeline. Hesitation speared into her chest as she thought of the busy street below. Tikki’s wordless voice encouraged her.

Steeling herself, Marinette holstered her yoyo, took a deep breath to steady her nerves, reached the end of the roof, and leaped. The night whipped past her, pushing back her hair and stealing her breath. She was flying across the overpowering gap. She had never felt so strong, so sure, so free, so magnificent—

Something black slammed into her side.

She cried out in shock. She was so close to the opposite roof that her fingertips brushed it as she plummeted with her attacker. Windows and lights flashed past her vision and she landed with a painful crack on the sidewalk below. Breath knocked from her lungs and vision blurred with pain, she blearily tried to straighten herself.

A civilian gasped out, “Ladybug! Oh my god!”

“Did you see that?” someone else shouted.

“He hit her!”

“Get inside!” Marinette ordered them. Her mouth tasted bloody and she ran her tongue over her teeth. She didn’t see the civilians leave, but she heard footsteps pounding away. Whatever had attacked her—one of Prince Un-Charming’s little minions, she assumed—was still somewhere nearby. She wanted to protect Paris. She didn’t want anyone to be hurt.

In her head, Tikki trilled a warning. It was high and loud, filling Marinette’s throbbing head with a volley of pain.

Reacting on instinct to the sound, she pushed off the sidewalk and bolted sideways in a roll to avoid the incoming attack. No attack split the concrete where she had once been. Instead, her panicked strength knocked her into someone else. She rolled into and over him, sending them both sprawling on the cold pavement again.

A car horn honked loudly, blaring, mingling with Tikki’s worried cry.

Marinette rolled again, her shoulder bumping up and over the curb. She was out of the street, at least, but she felt a band of warmth along her side. Someone else gasped for air, as ragged as her own breathing. Reaching deep for the willpower of Ladybug, Marinette forced herself into a standing position. She grasped her yoyo and began swinging it. It blurred into a barrier of pink, something she could use to cut down anyone or anything in her path.

Tikki’s warning filled her head, making it hard to think, as she stared down at the shadowy monster that had tackled her from the sky.

It was a boy, she thought at first glance. He toppled over on his hands and knees, trying to pull himself back together after their horrific fall and then Marinette’s dislodging roll across him. Then, she took in the sight of what could only be a tail hanging from his narrow hips and twining with his legs. It looked like a belt, but it moved as though alive. Her eyes tracked higher, over a heaving back and broad shoulders covered in tight black leather. She heard a bell chime.

“You,” she croaked. Her voice sounded nothing like Ladybug’s and she cleared her throat, swallowing blood. Had she bitten her tongue in the fall?

The fallen figure turned his head. Tousled waves of blonde hair moved with the night breeze. Black triangular ears swiveled towards her, listening. Blood matted into the hair at his temple, dripping down his face and over his cheek. She would have immediately begun to help him if not for the way Tikki’s voice rose to a shriek in her head and the sight of his stark black mask. Like her own, it hid his identity, disguising his eyes and creeping down over his nose. His eyes, cat-green and sharp, flashed over her just as appraisingly.

“Ladybug,” she heard him say.

The name filled her head, unbidden, and Tikki fell silent.

“Chat Noir,” she said in a breath.

With a terrific crash, shattering concrete and raining debris over both of them, a thrown car tore through the streets of Paris. Prince Un-Charming slammed down on the awning overhead. It creaked, bending horrifically beneath the force of his weight, and the support beams cracked up from their concrete anchor.

“I thought you were chasing me, Ladybug,” Prince Un-Charming mocked. “Have you found a new prince?”

“As if,” she snapped at him.

She hurled her yoyo with all the force she could muster, hoping against hope that she could snare the makeshift scepter he carried. Even Ladybug’s luck could only do so much, though, and she missed when he jerked his arm to block the yoyo. It twined around his forearm and Marinette pulled with all her strength.

Prince Un-Charming flew at her, cackling. Twisting against the grip of her yoyo and using its force to his advantage, he turned enough to plant in feet in her chest. The air blasted from Marinette’s lungs a second time. She flew backwards, dragging him along on her yoyo. Her back cracked into the wall of a shop across the street, shattering the display window. Glass rained down around her like stars. Prince Un-Charming towered over her, his scepter raised to strike. The sharp point gleamed.

Tikki screamed inside Marinette’s head.

Marinette closed her eyes.

She was bound to go down as the shortest existence of Ladybug in history.

In a flash, like something from a nightmare, Chat Noir closed the space across the street in an instant. He landed behind Prince Un-Charming like a meteor, grabbed his cape with both hands, somersaulted over his head, twisted with a grace Marinette couldn’t believe, and jerked him sidelong. Blinded in the cape, Prince Un-Charming staggered into the street. The sharp point of his scepter caught Chat Noir’s shoulder and ripped through the leather of his suit.

Chat Noir hissed, the sound as feral and terrifying as a demon’s.

Marinette jumped to her feet. The glass crunched beneath her soles, threatening to cut through her suit, but Ladybug’s luck held. The words tripped from Marinette’s mouth, spilling like the blood from Chat Noir’s shoulder. “Akuma,” she panted. When she wiped her mouth, there was blood on her wrist. For a moment, she wondered if that was why Ladybug’s suit was such a rich blood red color.

Chat Noir’s green eyes lit on her face, luminous against his black mask and the blood in his pale hair.

Tikki’s small voice shrieked in warning, but Marinette blocked it out.

“The scepter,” Marinette gasped out, “If I can break it.”

Chat Noir nodded, once, curtly. It didn’t seem like an agreement or a commitment, more like an understanding.

Marinette swung herself onto the top of a lamppost and began swinging her yoyo into a whirlwind.

Prince Un-Charming had recovered during the seconds that they spoke. “How dare you do this to a prince!” he howled. He smoothed down his cape as he turned his powder-white face on them in rage and he raised his scepter above his head. “How dare you!”

Marinette hurled her yoyo into the sky, praying for something helpful, for something lucky. A mirror landed in her hands, overlarge with a distinct gold-gilded frame. Its weight pulled her down from the lamppost, landing hard on the concrete, but the reflective surface didn’t shatter. Prince Un-Charming froze mid-attack, his eyes trained on the handsome reflection. Chat Noir flashed out, blending in with the night the way Ladybug couldn’t hope to. He snatched the scepter from Prince Un-Charming’s lax fingers and skidded back to Marinette.

She grabbed the scepter without waiting to see if he would hand it to her and broke it across her knee.

On the other side of the mirror, Prince Un-Charming yowled as his transformation was undone. Within his wail, Marinette could hear Hawkmoth’s shout of defeat.

The mirror folded into her yoyo and she swung it, lashing out to capture the darkly-beautiful akuma in its true butterfly form. When she released it, it was nothing more than light and harmless. She tossed her yoyo as high as she could, feeling the magic wash through Paris to undo what had been done, to mend what had been broken, to restore what could be.

The thrown cars and cracked pavement mended. Hastily, she stepped back onto the sidewalk before traffic resumed and looked at the mended window that her body had broken. It was a lovely display of hats, she realized, and it seemed so silly now.

“Thank you,” she said to Chat Noir.

His bright green eyes widened. Hand still cupped over his sliced shoulder, he regarded her silently.

Marinette put out her hand to him. “I’m M—Ladybug,” she said.

He kept his hand over his shoulder, shielding the wound, but offered his free hand. “Chat Noir,” he said very quietly.

Marinette smiled as best she could.

In her mind, Tikki shouted wordlessly.

“Nice to meet you,” Marinette told him. She withdrew her hand as she heard the warning in her ear. Her transformation would wear off soon and she needed to get back to her bedroom before her parents realized she was gone. Giving Chat Noir one last glance, she threw her yoyo and was gone into the night.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Tikki protested loudly as soon as Marinette returned safely to her bedroom with the window latched. “Didn’t you hear me?”

Marinette studied herself now that her suit had been peeled away. She could feel bruises developing all over her arms and legs, but she hadn’t been injured aside from whatever was bleeding inside her mouth. She took off her shoes and jacket, putting them aside on her way to the bathroom. Tikki floated along behind her head, chattering angrily.

“I heard something,” Marinette said as she rinsed her mouth. When she fell with Chat Noir, her teeth had cut into the side of her cheek, but it felt worse than it truly was. “But I couldn’t make out any words. It just sounded like a warning.”

“It was a warning!” Tikki shouted, her little voice reaching a pitch that seemed it could break glass. “You have to stay away from Chat Noir!”

“Why?” Marinette asked as she gingerly touched her face. Maybe she needed some ice. “I think he was helpful.”

“This time,” Tikki said bitterly, “but his bad luck could be the end of many things.”

“Bad luck?” Marinette repeated curiously.

Tikki nodded gravely. “Ladybug has power over good luck. If anyone else had fallen like that, Chat Noir’s luck could have killed them. Your luck should protect you,” she explained.
“You have to stay away from Chat Noir. He’s dangerous.”

Marinette untied her hair and brushed it while she thought. She didn’t really want to admit it to Tikki, but she was so new to this whole superhero thing and she really thought she could use some help. Considering how they had handled Prince Un-Charming together, Marinette thought Chat Noir might be the answer to her problems, but if his bad luck was so terrible…

“Are there other people with a Miraculous?” Marinette asked Tikki.

“Many. There used to be many more,” Tikki said with a hard edge to her voice. “However, you and Chat Noir are the only ones in Paris.”

Marinette sighed and put her brush aside. “Okay, Tikki,” she relented.

Tikki threw herself at Marinette, burrowing against her dark hair and clinging to the strands with her tiny fingers. “Don’t scare me like that again,” Tikki mumbled into Marinette’s cheek. “I was so worried about you.”

Marinette cupped her hands around Tikki and cuddled her close. “I’m sorry,” she said gently. “I wasn’t trying to. I think I just need more practice.”

Tikki nodded in agreement. “We can go out tomorrow, if you like.”

“Definitely,” Marinette said, “Right after school. Hopefully Hawkmoth will leave us alone for a few days.”

Tikki tugged away and pressed her tiny hand to Marinette’s nose. “Luck is always on your side,” she said. “Now, why don’t you have a shower and get some rest. You’re going to feel that fall tomorrow, transformation or no.”

As it turned out, luck wasn’t as much on Marinette’s side as Tikki would like to believe. Hawkmoth struck again the next day, though with significantly less success than the previous. Marinette was grateful the akuma was such a pushover because Tikki had been right about one thing. Every inch of her body ached from her plummet the day before. Dark bruises bloomed on her knees and elbows and even on her cheek to a lesser degree. (She had been able to hide the bruise on her face with makeup as Marinette and Ladybug’s mask hid it now.)

However, Chat Noir arrived on the scene moments before Marinette defeated the akuma-victim. He was a distraction to the akuma, giving Marinette the opening she needed to break it to pieces. As the white butterfly fluttered away, Marinette let out a breath of relief. Chat Noir perched on the tip of the tallest spire of a nearby building. He jumped down to join her, hopping nimbly from flagpole to awning. It wasn’t until he nearly reached the ground that his bad luck showed itself.

It was then that Marinette understood why Tikki had been so concerned.

He landed on an awning of an open-air café and a gush of tiny black spots surged from beneath his feet. Horror shot through his expression as the awning crumbled beneath him. Innocent people had just begun to venture out from the shelter of the café to congratulate Ladybug. They would be crushed when the awning collapsed and Ladybug’s magic could not bring people back from the dead.

Ladybug let her instinct guide her. She rushed forward, sweeping them all inside and out of the way with her yoyo and her body alike. What were a few bruises compared to being alive, after all? The awning splintered and collapsed. Its bright red-and-white candy-stripe pattern spilled across the sidewalk and road like shed blood. Traffic skidded around the ruin, causing tiny accidents wherever someone wasn’t quick enough to avoid the rubble.

Stricken, Chat Noir stood in the middle of the sight like a stone for the ocean to beat against.

Panting, Marinette picked her way across the rubble. She couldn’t believe what had happened, even though she had seen it with her own eyes—his bad luck.

In her head, Tikki shouted a warning.

All around them, people got out of their cars to curse and assess the damage. People who cheered Ladybug’s name turned their eyes to Chat Noir like daggers. Children were sheltered away by concerned parents. A police officer pulled up on the sidewalk, his lights and sirens screaming. Chat Noir hunkered in on himself, shoulders curved. He looked small and young, like a starved alley cat being thrown from its home.

The first shout came, but Marinette didn’t know from where. “Bad luck!”

It echoed, building like an avalanche.

“Get out of here!”

“You monster!”

“You’re not a hero!”

“You’re just bad luck!”

“You’re not Ladybug! Just get out of here!”

Chat Noir flinched with each word as though they physically struck him.

Horror and then anger built up in Marinette’s chest. She hadn’t used her Lucky Charm yet and she hadn’t planned to, but she couldn’t let this go on.

“Stop it!” she shouted and her voice cut through everything, infused with a power she hadn’t realized she had. She hurled her yoyo into the sky. In a blaze of light, the awning and the traffic were repaired. Blinking in the sunlight, everyone remained silent in the wake of her powerful magic. Marinette tucked her yoyo against her hip and marched towards Chat Noir.

He looked ready to bolt, his bright green eyes darting from her to the crowd to the roof of the nearest building. Something kept him anchored to the place where he stood though. Maybe fear that his bad luck would destroy something else if he moved. Maybe a twisted desire to take what he thought he deserved for what he had done. Maybe nothing at all.

Marinette stopped beside him, blocking Tikki from her mind. She grabbed his hand abruptly. His claws closed over her, pricking through her suit and into her skin. “Stop it,” she shouted at the assembled crowd. “Chat Noir is my partner!”

“Ladybug,” someone breathed.

“What?”

“No!”

“Ladybug?”

Beside her, Chat Noir tightened his grip on her hand.

She fought aside a wince of pain. “Chat Noir is my partner,” she said again.

“You can’t,” he whispered beside her.

“Shut up,” she hissed at him. “You’ve helped me. It’s my turn to help you.”

He fell silent.

“I want him to be treated as such,” Marinette shouted at the crowd. “Any attack you inflict on him, you might as well inflict on me.”

They whispered to each other, stricken by this reveal.

Marinette jerked her head proudly. She unfurled her yoyo, lashed it to the nearest building, and, still holding Chat Noir’s hand tightly, spirited them both out of sight. It was harder to land with his weight in addition to her own, but her luck cushioned her hazardous trip. Chat Noir skidded beside her and then came to a stop beside the chimney. Smoke puffed idly from it, obscuring his expression for a moment as the breeze blew between them.

Tikki shouted inside Marinette’s skull, her little voice bouncing like a hundred ping-pong balls. She put a hand to her forehead and took a deep steadying breath to block out the protests.

“Are you alright?” Chat Noir murmured. He took a few hesitating steps toward her, paused, and then backed up a little. “Am I affecting you?”

“No, no,” Marinette said quickly. “It’s just…” She hesitated. She probably shouldn’t tell him that her kwami insisted that his bad luck was dangerous and that Marinette needed to stay away. “I still feel that fall from yesterday, is all.”

Chat Noir lowered his eyes. Such a pretty shade of spring green should never look so sad. “Oh,” he said and then, “I’m sorry.”

Silence stretched between them as Marinette struggled to explain why she had just done what she had. She didn’t owe Chat Noir anything, not really, and Tikki was so worried about their proximity that she nearly deafened Marinette.

“You shouldn’t have…” Chat Noir began suddenly. He hesitated and then plowed on, “You shouldn’t have said that to them.”

“Huh?”

“That we’re partners,” he said softly. “I’m a curse.”

The way those words fell from his lips, like blood pouring from a fresh wound, so sorrowful and hurt that Marinette just couldn’t bear it. Her hands rolled into fists to keep her fingers from shaking. She wanted to reach out and throttle him, to pull him into her arms, to stroke his pale honeyed hair, to smooth the contours of his mask, to bring some happiness to those bright beautiful eyes.

“How’s your head?” slipped from her lips before she could even think.

He looked startled and his hand lifted to his hairline subconsciously. “Ah, fine, I guess,” he mumbled. His eyes focused on her, scanning her lithe form and bright suit. “And you? Are you alright?”

Marinette bobbed her head cheerfully. “Just a little sore,” she admitted.

He lowered his chin, pressing his clawed gloved hands to his thighs.

“Listen,” Marinette began despite Tikki’s protests carving into her brain, “I could use some help and… I meant what I said. I’d like you to be my partner.”

Chat Noir shifted nervously.

She pressed her lips into a fine line and admitted, “Since my powers are all about good luck, maybe I can balance yours out. Don’t you think?”

His head snapped up so quickly she worried he might hurt himself. She thought of the wound on his head, hidden beneath his pale windswept hair. His lips parted as though he was about to say something, but then he bit down on his lower lip and went silent. “You don’t understand,” he said finally. “Bad luck is…”

“It’s just luck!” Marinette protested, cutting him off with the sharpness of her words. She felt the wound inside her mouth, a jolt of pain lancing through her as she spoke. “So I have all the good luck in the world! I still crashed into you!”

He flinched. His tail twined tightly around his calf as though seeking sanctuary.

Marinette could have kicked herself. “I mean,” she corrected hastily, “no one is perfect.”

Chat Noir breathed in the warm air and let it out slowly. “You’re better off—”

“Promise you’ll at least think about it,” Marinette demanded. Without giving him a chance to agree or protest, she continued, “I’ll wait for you on the roof of the Café Cornucopia tomorrow night. Come meet me, even if it’s just to say no.”

Taken aback, Chat Noir nodded numbly.

She stretched out her hand and patted him securely on his uninjured shoulder. His suit was firm, but his shoulder was thin and bony beneath. The warmth of his body seeped into her hand and she quickly withdrew. “I’ll be waiting for you,” she told him. Taking out her yoyo, she hurrid away before her transformation wore off, Tikki screeched a hole in her skull, or he could change his mind.

The second her transformation slipped away, Tikki launched herself at Marinette in a cyclone. She was talking so fast that Marinette could hardly make out a word. She had never heard her kwami curse before and it was almost more surprising than the vehemence with which she pulled Marinette’s hair.

“I told you to stay away from Chat Noir!” Tikki shouted against Marinette’s ear to give her small voice the maximum effect. “And what do you do? The exact damn opposite!”

Marinette captured Tikki in her hands like a lightning bug and held her away. Looking down at Tikki, Marinette could see the ring of tiny crescents and scrapes that lined her palm where Chat Noir had gripped her, his sharp claws pricking through her suit and into her skin. “Didn’t you see how they were treating him?”

“Chat Noir is—”

“I thought Ladybug was supposed to be a hero,” Marinette said petulantly. “What kind of hero doesn’t help someone who needs it? Especially when that person is right in front of them?”

Tikki went silent for a minute, gnawing her lower lip. Her dark eyes were deep and ageless. For the first time since she met Tikki, Marinette felt a little prickle of fear for this ancient and powerful magic. She really knew nothing about it, about any of it, especially about Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“Ladybug is just a human underneath my powers,” Tikki explained lowly. “Humans are not always heroes. They are prone to irrationality and weakness.”

“Do you think it’s weakness to help Chat Noir?” Marinette asked, cupping the tiny creature a little more gently in her hands. “Is it irrational to want to help him?”

Tikki didn’t fly up to tug Marinette’s hair or scold her again. She remained seated in Marinette’s palms, silent.

“I want to be a hero,” Marinette said to Tikki. “I want Ladybug to be a hero.”

She thought of the way Chat Noir kept his eyes down, his voice so soft, his tail twisted close to his leg, as he whispered, ‘I’m a curse.’

Tikki didn’t reply, lost in her own thoughts.

Marinette whispered, “I want Chat Noir to be a hero.”

Tikki let out her breath in a slow rush. She looked tired and sore, more exhausted than she usually did after a long transformation and ensuing fight. Tikki had looked ageless before, ancient and powerful, but now she looked old. “Just… promise me you will be careful, Marinette,” she said finally. “You are so kind. I don’t want to see you hurt.” Her eyes flashed and they were as deep and dark as wells. “I won’t see you hurt,” she said sternly.

Marinette nodded gravely. “I’ll be careful,” she promised.

Tikki shut her eyes and breathed out.

“Tikki,” Marinette whispered as she carried her kwami to the cushion by the window to rest. “Do you think what I said was true?”

“Hmm?” Tikki murmured. “What?”

“Could my good luck balance Chat Noir’s bad luck?” she asked.

Tikki settled into the cushion and closed her eyes. “Only time will tell, Marinette. Only time will tell.”

Marinette woke the next morning to Paris dressed all in white. Though yesterday had been unseasonably warm and Tikki looked at her meaningfully, Marinette wasn’t about to believe the overnight snowfall was Chat Noir’s fault. She would blame the weatherman for not predicting it ahead of time, she thought as she grudgingly dug out her winter jacket for school. She tucked Tikki into her bag with a snack and a little blanket to keep warm.

Prepared for the day, Marinette stepped out into the crisp winter morning, promptly slipped, and nearly fell. She caught herself at the last second, smoothed her hair, and marched down the sidewalk. She met up with her best friend, Alya, outside the gates.

“Girl, did you hear?” Alya exclaimed as soon as she saw Marinette.

“Hear what?” Marinette asked, slinging her arm across Alya’s shoulders to keep her from running ahead in excitement.

“About Ladybug!” Alya nearly-shouted.

Marinette did her best not to choke in surprise, schooled her expression into something she hoped was innocent, and continued, “No. What happened with Ladybug?”

“Girl, you are so out of touch,” Alya said with a dramatic sigh. She pulled out her phone and leafed through some articles before holding on up inches from Marinette’s face. “Yesterday, Ladybug stopped another rampage. Chat Noir was there though and he collapsed an awning.”

Marinette grasped Alya’s phone and held it far enough from her face that she could see the pictures. They were low quality, as though taken with someone’s cell phone, but she could see the shape of Chat Noir’s dark body standing amidst the ruin. She scrolled through the pictures until she found a grainy one of Ladybug coming to stand at his side. Was that really what she looked like?

“You know how Chat Noir is a menace, right?” Alya continued. “His bad luck is a curse, but Ladybug—” she paused to swoon dramatically “—Ladybug is so cool. She announced that Chat Noir was her partner.”

Marinette handed back Alya’s phone. “Do you think it’s a good idea for them to work together?”

Alya shrugged. “I don’t see how it can be any worse than what Chat Noir does alone. Hopefully Ladybug can keep his bad luck in check.” She sighed heavily, looking momentarily saddened. “I just hope Ladybug doesn’t get hurt by him.”

Marinette swallowed thickly, still feeling the gash inside her cheek from her first meeting and subsequent horrific fall with Chat Noir. Though the pain in her bruises was already fading, she couldn’t help but think that if she had never met him, never crashed into him, she might never have gotten hurt.

Alya perked up. “But she’s Ladybug! I’m sure she’ll be fine! She’s so cool, after all!”

Marinette nodded in agreement, forcing a smile.

She ignored the way Tikki shifted meaningfully inside her purse.

Tonight, she would meet Chat Noir at the Café Cornucopia. Until then, she would do her best to turn her attention to school. There was nothing she could do about it now, if she could do anything at all, but she forced those negative thoughts away.

Paris was beautiful and snowy, Adrien was in class before she was and she managed to say hello to him without dying, and it was going to be a good day.

Marinette clambered out her window, shivering slightly as the chill bit through Ladybug’s suit. She kicked herself for not giving Chat Noir a distinct time to meet her at Café Cornucopia. After all, ‘night’ could be any time after sundown. She really hoped he would come early and not at midnight since she had enough math homework to sink a ship.

Slinging her yoyo from chimney to chimney, she made quick work of Paris. It really was beautiful, she thought, as she admired the lights glimmering off the white snow. Winter was a beautiful time of year, even if she hated to shovel the sidewalk.

She spotted the tall roof of the building where Café Cornucopia enjoyed lovely outdoor dining all year round. The heaters worked diligently on the open balcony, but most people had chosen to sit inside with their cocoa regardless. Marinette snared the high cornucopia-esque spire on the roof of the building and leaped across the wide gap. Her foot caught a patch of ice and she nearly fell to her death. Only her grip on her yoyo saved her from a harsh plummet and she breathed out a mumbled curse. Rubbing her arms to warm them, she rolled up her yoyo and paced towards the chimney.

Much to her great surprise, she found Chat Noir already leaning there and she was very early. The sun was only just tipping below the line of buildings, casting everything in deep cool shadows.

“Ah, you’re already here,” she murmured.

His green eyes, luminous and as soft as spring, slipped over her. “I didn’t want to miss you,” he said simply.

Marinette nodded. Her ankle ached a little, bruises flaring anew from her near fall.

Chat Noir’s eyes tracked the shifting of her weight. “You almost fell,” he said and pushed away from the chimney.

Marinette feared he’d close the space between them, take her ankle in his clawed hands, and do something drastic to try to help her. She opened her mouth to ward him off.

“I should go,” he said before she could speak.

“No! Wait!” Marinette protested. Her hand shot out to grab him, but he slipped out of her grasp like an alley cat. She lost her footing on the snowy roof again, wind-milled frantically for balance, and started to fall.

Chat Noir’s grace aided him and his bad luck forced his hand. He grasped her arm, but her slide pulled him along. In hindsight, she imagined his toes curling like claws because he somehow found footing on the roof and stopped their descent, but he had pulled her flush against him to do so. Her hips were pressed to his, their legs tangled, and she could feel his tail against her calf. Her hands clutched desperately to the front of his suit, her eyes drawn to the bell at his throat. They were so close that she could feel his breath, smell his skin, and feel the heat of his body.

She wanted to push away from him, but the edge of the roof was dangerously close. “Thank you,” she gasped out. “That could have been ugly.”

“I should go,” he said again. His voice was soft and small. She felt his hand like a brand on her lower back, holding her flush against him and safe.

‘Safe,’ she thought.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face because he asked, “Ladybug?” His fingers twitched, claws prickling.

She met his eyes, holding them. “I can’t make you stay, but… I would like it if you would,” she said gently.

“But, my curse—”

“I hope my good luck can hold it as bay,” Marinette said.

Chat Noir looked doubtful and seemed to be considering if he could untangle himself from her without starting their slide again.

Marinette was grateful for the snow and ice preventing him from fleeing. “We’ll never know if we don’t at least try,” she told him. Thinking of Tikki’s and Alya’s similar worries, she relented, “If it looks like it’s too dangerous, we can always stop.”

His gaze flickered over her face, gauging her expression behind the mask.

She tried to read his as well and wondered what he saw in her gaze. In his, she read longing and suffering, a sorrow as deep and ageless as the one she occasionally saw in Tikki’s dark eyes. She wondered if any prior Ladybugs had ever tried to befriend prior Chat Noirs.

“Alright,” he murmured finally.

Marinette wondered if he had found what he sought in her eyes.

“If you get hurt and it’s my fault—”

“I will depend on you to put a band-aid on it,” Marinette interrupted.

Chat Noir’s eyes widened with surprise.

Marinette shrugged and the movement jostled his tight grip on her body, holding her safely away from the edge of the roof. She asked cheekily, “It’s the least you can do, right?”

A little smile tugged at the edge of his lips, fighting the serious concern of his bad luck. “It’s the least I can do,” he finally agreed.

Marinette beamed.

A sudden gust of cold wind pummeled them and Marinette shivered despite Ladybug’s thermal suit and the heat of Chat Noir’s body against her own. She abruptly wished that they could hop down into Café Cornucopia, have some cocoa, and talk a little more, but she had a feeling that would cause more ruckus than it was worth.

“You’re cold,” Chat Noir said and began carefully backing away from the edge of the roof. His heavy boots kept purchase on the slippery surface and he stomped the snow flat to make a place for her to stand. Carefully, he loosened his grip. “You should go.”

Marinette eased away from him, already missing his heat. “We need to decide how to stay in contact,” she said.

Chat Noir nodded and pressed his lips together in thought.

Marinette bit back the urge to give him her cell phone number. This whole secret identity thing would take some getting used to.

“There’s a great bakery on the 21st arrondissement,” he said finally.

Marinette’s heart skipped a beat.

“It’s called the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie,” he continued. “How about we meet on the roof every night at seven o’clock?”

Marinette must have looked as troubled as she felt. Of all places to meet, Chat Noir had managed to choose the roof of her parents’ bakery.

“Or we can meet somewhere else,” he added hastily.

“No, no,” Marientte said quickly. “It’s fine. That’s a good place to meet until we can think of something more permanent. I don’t suppose you want to swap cell phone numbers, after all.”

Another little smile teased the edge of his mouth and Marinette found herself wondering how he would look if he smiled for real.

“So, tomorrow night at seven on the roof of the Boulangerie Patisserie,” she repeated. “I will see you there, partner.” She offered her hand to him, grinning at the surprise etched on his features.

Chat Noir recovered quickly, clasped her hand, and squeezed with cautious gentleness. “I look forward to it,” he hesitated, “partner.”

Marinette smiled at him broadly. She took out her yoyo and whipped away. She wasn’t paying much attention to her surroundings, but she didn’t slip a single time on the way home. She hoped Chat Noir’s trip home was just as, well, lucky.

Marinette really couldn’t believe Chloé Bourgeois. There should be a limit to just how mean certain people could be. Chloé had tripped the poor kid who had just been minding his own business, just walking past her with his tray of lunch, and he had fallen directly into the mess. Chloé actually had the nerve to laugh at him and tell him it was his fault for not paying attention. Now, Marinette found herself as Ladybug staring up into the ravaged face of the latest akuma of the week.

“I am Mystery Meat!” he shrieked, voice still high and shrill with puberty. “I’ll make you eat your words!”

Marinette entertained the idea of letting the akuma give Chloé a good swipe but changed her mind. The brave heroic words she had told to Tikki would mean nothing if she let petty revenge take priority, even if she wanted to see Chloé get what she deserved.

She hadn’t really expected Chat Noir’s help with the akuma within the confines of her own school, but there was a muted thud on the lunch table behind her. Marinette whirled around, her Ladybug reflexes getting the better of her, and recognized Chat Noir at the last second. She averted her fist, letting her knuckles brush along his cheek and land harmlessly over his shoulder.

“Quite a greeting,” Chat Noir said. His eyes darted to her fist beside his cheek and then to her face. “Should I go?”

“Where did you even come from, kitty?” Marinette asked, the pet name just falling out of her.

Chat Noir spared her a glance, the edge of his lips turning up. “I was in the neighborhood,” he responded coolly.

“Well, since you’re here,” she said, “how about I treat you to lunch?”

Chat Noir snorted. A flicker of surprise crossed his face.

Mystery Meat was a giant glob of the school’s horrific Thursday lunch options. He slung his fist down at them, smashing all the tables in his path. Marinette flipped nimbly backwards, landing hard on another table a few rows back. She looked up quickly, worried that Chat Noir had been smashed into meat pie, but he was nowhere to be seen. Mystery Meat studied his empty hand slowly, as though also wondering where Chat Noir had gone.

Something flickered at the edge of the ceiling. The tip of Chat Noir’s tail, Marinette realized with a jolt. He had jumped onto the ceiling and was hanging there somehow, only the tip of his tail visible from her angle. Mystery Meat realized Chat Noir’s position an instant after Marinette did and her warning came too late. He grabbed Chat Noir’s tail and jerked him off the ceiling with a bellow.

“Eat those words!” Mystery Meat shouted.

Chat Noir’s green eyes were wide, but they narrowed sharply. He looked like he did when Marinette first met him, a combination of lost and dangerous, like a cornered animal. From the small of his back, he grasped his staff and lashed out swiftly. The metal carved a swath through Mystery Meat’s gelatinous body, revealing the poor student beneath. With a shriek, Mystery Meat dropped Chat Noir as abruptly as a child stung by a bee.

Chat Noir plummeted onto the broken table with a crack, pain tearing across his face. He rolled out of the way of Mystery Meat’s incoming stomp, clutching his staff to his chest. Marinette dove between them before Mystery Meat could stomp again. She grabbed Chat Noir’s staff, pulling him to his feet and out of harm’s way.

“Hit him again,” she said breathlessly. “When you do, I can grab his lunch tray from under that mess.”

Chat Noir nodded.

“I’ll distract him,” Marinette said and lunged past Mystery Meat’s snarling face.

He swiped at her, to slow to capture her agile form though. Chat Noir struck him across his exposed back, tearing away the mysterious substance again. Squalling, Mystery Meat turned to face Chat Noir and he swiped his staff across Mystery Meat’s chest. Completely exposed from the waist up, it was an easy matter for Marinette to snare the lunch tray with her yoyo and break it in half. Mystery Meat dissolved into a puddle around the bullied student’s feet like a pool of tears. His lunch was still smeared across his torso.

Marinette threw her yoyo into the air, wondering what magic gave it the power to fade through the ceiling of the cafeteria and repair all the damage that had been done by the akuma attack. Chat Noir crossed to her side, standing beside her with both hands resting on the top of his staff.

“Good job, partner,” Marinette said by way of thanks. She wasn’t sure how she would have handled Mystery Meat without him. She held out her hand in a characteristically Alya-like fist bump without thinking, because that was just what she did with her friends.

Chat Noir accepted it awkwardly. “Thanks,” he said softly.

“Does your back hurt?” she asked. “You landed really hard.”

“I’m fine,” he said. She felt his eyes flick over her like a physical touch. Self-consciously, she traced the wound inside her mouth and nearly cupped her palm over the scrapes he had left on her hand. “Are you alright, Ladybug?”

“Fine,” she answered with a sunny smile.

Relief so potent that Marinette swore she could taste it crossed his expression.

“I should go,” Chat Noir said.

“I’ll see you tonight on top of the bakery,” Marinette said before he could leave. “Seven o’clock. Don’t keep a lady waiting.”

Chat Noir’s lips quirked with a tiny smile. He looked about to say something, but shook his head slightly as though convincing himself to remain silent. “I will do my best,” he promised her. Then, he was gone from the repaired cafeteria like a shadow slipping into the night.

X:You’re:X:Imperfect:X

Then, I read about Chat Noir’s powers of bad luck and this just happened. (I actually did think Chat Noir was the anti-hero before I watched anything. He just has that look about him, like he was meant to be a villain, but I’d like to think Marinette would change that.)

Questions, comments, concerns?