Privilégier

by Yilena

Marinette manages to ruin her reputation, get covered in fur, watch strangers cry over cats snubbing them, and awkwardly pursue her love-life on live television all over the course of one summer. Chat Noir roleplaying wasn't even the craziest part. AU.

AN: Hi, agrestenoir! I'm your tumblr secret santa. Your prompts were all really vague, but I hope you enjoy this! It's a lot less... serious than my other stories? Thanks for helping pick the plot and then naming the cats, my lovely discord belugas, and cabbage for helping beta this.

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir © Thomas Astruc

There was a lot that had happened in Marinette's life.

At the tender age of thirteen, she'd taken up the magical mantle of becoming Ladybug, a spotted superhero that helped to protect the city from an equally magical villain for years on end, and the sporadic battles—where she didn't even see Papillon, the creator of all the chaos—had lasted for over six years.

With her identity being a secret, to protect those that she loved, it was hard finding different places to duck and transform out of the blue when an attack happened. Chat Noir, her partner, had much the same complaints—lamenting that the security cameras around his house would capture him, so he always had to walk home for longer than he wanted—and it was something they'd readily vented their frustrations about when they spent some time together while transformed.

She didn't know who he was for four years.

Then, to her surprise, the partner that she'd been trusting with her life for years had turned out to be her class-mate, one of her friends, and the male that she'd had an embarrassing crush on (when she'd suddenly become aware of her feelings after seeing his kindness back when they'd first met).

Not that she'd told him that at first, however.

From seeing random civilians turned into villains and damaging the city, only for Marinette's own powers as Ladybug to reverse what had happened, to witnessing the effect that having two superheroes did for everyone's lives over six years, there wasn't much that she hadn't seen.

Her university classes finished for the year a bit earlier than others. They told her she was lucky, but the bags underneath her eyes and how tired she felt—from the work and having to make excuses when she disappeared every now and then to protect the city—made her feel anything but that.

She'd just finished her second year, was trying to think of what to do for her future, and she'd almost forgotten that she'd jokingly applied to a reality television show alongside her friends.

So, when she received the answer that she was accepted, Marinette was dumbfounded.

It entailed being on live television, twenty-four hours a day for anyone to see, but the amount of money she'd win if she came first was astounding.

The show only had ten spots open, and the audition had involved all sorts of strange questions along with a recorded video of the contestant telling their answers, rather than writing it all out.

Marinette hadn't felt too awkward doing that.

All she knew about the show was that it would have something to do with animals—that was all that it had advertised itself as, and along with the acceptance response telling her what to do to confirm her appearance, it hadn't added anything else more onto it.

Her parents were supportive.

Originally, the plan had been for her to return home for the summer before going back to her university dorm, but her being on the show meant that they'd be able to turn on the website and have a stream of her at any time of the day if they didn't want to wait for the actual show with the highlights in the evenings.

Papillon had become predictable over the years. They attacked one or twice a month—never more—and it was all during the day, a regular schedule that didn't cause her to lose much sleep, thankfully. It was because of her trust in her partner that she sent off her response, confirming her appearance.

Still, she wasn't allowed to tell anyone that she was going to be on the show. It was to keep the surprise, something that she could respect. But she had a duty as Ladybug not to abandon the city—

As they'd stopped meeting up weekly to chat and eat dinner together while transformed since finding out each other's identity, Marinette tried to arrange a meeting so she could break it to him face-to-face that she wouldn't be around for a month or two (depending on her success), but he was busy with exams and his own life.

She couldn't blame him for that.

While she had a subtle civilian life that made her blend in, Chat Noir was much different. Even as her class-mate back when they were younger, he'd stood out due to his father being a famous fashion designer, but him modelling his father's creations hadn't helped much.

Adrien Agreste was popular in both identities.

Reporters tried to flag them down and talk if they were transformed, but only Adrien was bothered when he wandered outside when he wasn't Chat Noir. It was because of the magic that caused no one to recognise their features that they were saved from anyone realising that the male plastered on advertisements was actually Chat Noir.

They weren't that close when they were class-mates, but when Marinette had come to terms with that the boy she was crushing on was someone that she could trust with her life, connecting the two identities, it gravitated to the two of them texting more often than they did before. They did try to meet up, but he attended a different university and lived a while away from where her dorms were located.

Sure, she would've been able to see him regularly if she went back home for the summer, but that wasn't in her plans any more.

She ended up calling him.

Adrien picked up on the third ring. "Hey, you," he greeted, fondness clear in his voice. "What do I owe the pleasure of you calling me to?"

"A necessary evil," she answered, smiling to herself. "I'm gonna be gone for a couple of weeks over the summer—maybe a bit longer, I'm not sure—but do you think you'll be okay by yourself?"

He didn't hesitate to reply, "Yeah, of course. If anything happens, I'm sure I can manage to keep it under, well, lock and key."

There had been instances where one of them was busy, but it hadn't been that often. Marinette knew that she was needed to reverse what had happened—to mend what had been caused—but Adrien would be able to deal with apprehending the turned-villain without her, keeping them under supervision with the help of law enforcement (who were usually unable to provide assistance since it was over their heads).

She snorted. "I'm sure the police will love you."

"You're okay, right?" he questioned.

"Yes, don't worry," Marinette assured him, flattered that he'd asked at all. "I'll just be out of reach for a bit. Hopefully, nothing will happen."

Adrien hummed. "I doubt it will, honestly. The longest we've gone without an attack now is... I think it's four months?"

"That was one time," she pointed out. "And there was also another a week after because of that."

"Well, let's hope Papillon has a busy schedule."

And as if they were planning it, two days before Marinette was set to move into the house, that she'd only just been sent the details of, Papillon struck.

The city had gotten better at responding over the years. Within a few hours, the situation was sorted, and Marinette had gone back home to pack her belongings, following the strict rules that were given; clothing, no electronics, and to make sure that she had what she needed for the foreseeable future.

As she couldn't tell her friends—the same ones that were lamenting that they were rejected, still—Marinette made the excuse of saying that she was going on holiday. As their exams had just ended, it was an understandable lie, luckily.

It was a little over a month from receiving the first acceptance answer that she arrived at the house. She'd signed the necessary documents, gotten a check-up from a doctor to prove that she was healthy and make sure she didn't require any medication, and she'd sorted everything out to make sure that it all would be okay while she was gone.

Smoothing out her dress, Marinette walked through the entrance to meet the others.

As it was advertised, there was ten of them altogether. Five females and five males, none of them having met each other beforehand, and when they were told separately to walk through a door to enter the household—where the cameras would begin rolling—was supposed to be the first time they'd ever seen each other.

Marinette was the sixth to walk out.

She had been given a microphone to wear on her clothing whenever she could.

The house wasn't bad from what she could tell. It was large, spacious with only one level, and there was a large garden in the middle, surrounded by glass windows to allow it to be seen. It was a standard setting for a reality show, she supposed, as they weren't able to actually see the outside world, other than the sky up above from the garden.

The other contestants didn't seem all too bad. Marinette ended up sitting beside a blonde-haired girl, one that she recognised from years ago, back when she'd first started out as Ladybug.

Not that she let that slip out, however.

"Welcome," came from the speakers threaded throughout the house, the voice booming in the living room. "This is your captain speaking—no, I'm just kidding. I am, however, the voice of reason for your stay. I'll be handing out tasks and making sure you all stay in line."

There was some mumbled comments about that.

"Moving on." It sounded computer generated, the words not quite having emotion put behind them. "It's my duty to welcome you all to Pussyfooting."

A startled laugh escaped her at that.

They hadn't been told the name of the show before that, and if that was what they were really going for—such a one that could be taken the wrong way—she was more concerned with how they were able to get the confirmation for that when the show would be available to watch daily on television, along with twenty-four hour footage on the internet.

The voice went on to explain that they could refer to them as Barnaby, and that there would be a secluded room—adequately named the barn—with cameras that anyone could go into the vent and converse with Barnaby in private (not that it would do them many favours, apparently, but it could sway the public in their favour, even though votes would only rely on them if there was a tie).

A tie for what, they hadn't been told yet.

Marinette stayed quiet through most of it, reaching up and fiddling with her earrings. She was easily the youngest on the show; the other ages ranging from a bit above her to one male that was clearly middle-aged, and she had to wonder whether that would work in her favour or not.

Barnaby wasn't so bad. They tried to be witty, but the robotic voice caused a lot of the jokes to fall flat, and she had to cover her mouth to stop herself from laughing at a few points.

Then, it turned out that animals that would be involved with the show were cats. It should've been obvious from the moment that the show name had been announced, but she'd been too bewildered by the robotic voice floating through the speakers to really comprehend it.

"The aim of the game is to sway these lovely felines to your side," Barnaby proclaimed. And, as that was said, one of the doors suddenly became illuminated from the lights that it was decorated with. "Every moment one of our cats chooses to spend with you will be documented and tallied—you heard that right, chooses. If you forcefully try and keep a cat with you, it will not count. Are we clear?"

It really wasn't what she was expecting to hear.

"There'll be a cat for everyone of you, but only contestants will disappear. The cats will be staying. For the audience, however, ninety percent of our cats will be up for adoption after the show has finished; if you're interested, please check for site for details."

Well, at least that was settled. While Marinette hadn't grown up with a pet, nor even fish when she was younger, she'd always wanted to try and interact with them more. It was a good enough chance for her to experience it, she guessed.

Barnaby carried on despite the murmuring that was echoed through the room. "Their basic profiles will be displayed on different screens throughout the house; it'll tell you their name along with a picture to help you identify them. However, if you wish to learn more privately, for only you, you're welcome to accept a challenge from within the barn."

It had a pretty standard setup from what she knew. Marinette listened to Barnaby talk for a little more, clarifying the rules and making sure that all the contestants knew that the amount of cats that liked them, and spent time with them, were what would choose the winners between them.

Other than forcing the cats, a rule was to keep the microphone on at all times that they could, along with not covering it for private conversations. They were meant to be entertainment, after all, and hiding anything would only possibly frustrate viewers.

"Now," Barnaby stated, the sound of a clap echoing through the room. It had to have been a sound effect, rather than someone using a filter for their voice the whole time. "Let's get onto introducing our cats, shall we?"

With a look to the other contestants in the room, she had to assume that everyone else was just as excited as she was. Sure, there was the nerves from her worrying that she wouldn't get along with any of them—but, surely, out of ten, there was a chance that there would be one cat that preferred her over the others.

Barnaby told them not to approach the door—to stay sitting, to let the cat explore instead of being surrounded by them. Marinette tucked her legs underneath her on the sofa, leaving her shoes on the floor, and openly stared at the illuminated door.

It cracked open slightly to reveal a large cat. The fur was long, coloured orange with patches of white from what she could see, and it was happy to dart across the room and dive underneath a table.

"Kitty McMeowMeow will not respond to his full name, sadly, but I will not disclose his preferred nickname."

It almost sounded like a bad dating show.

The second cat—a short-haired white-coloured female—was revealed to be called Dog. She was more than happy to join the first cat to play with, the two of them ignoring all the section where Marinette was sitting in.

Fluffy Wuffy had a brilliant name.

Marinette choked back her laughter when it was revealed that he was a hairless cat, the wrinkles on his skin standing out within seconds. Fluffy Wuffy chose to come to the nearest sofa and sniff it, shooting one of them a distrustful look before running off.

It was very reassuring.

Furry Purry joined soon after; beige-coloured with black on her feet, tail, ears and face. She was easily the prettiest cat out of the four, but Marinette barely had any time to look at her before she darted after Fluffy Wuffy and jumped on top of him, which resulted in hissing and fighting between them without any claws.

From how comfortable the cats were with their surroundings, she had to assume that they'd been inside before.

A few of the other contestants were talking amongst themselves, but no one had tried to reach out to her thus far. She attempted to flash a nervous smile at the person closest to her, but either they didn't see her, or she was blanked completely.

She didn't know which one to think of.

When she thought the names couldn't get any worse, Chairman Miaow came out. He had dark orange fur that was mixed with black in patches, a look that she didn't see often.

Chairman Miaow was the first one to hiss before running away. Other than him and Fluffy Wuffy, none of the other cats had tried to approach them.

It was sort of a blur after that. Telephone came out—a girl was folded ears that caused a few murmurs to remark on how pretty she was—before Santa Claws followed, who turned out to be a male with a primarily black coat, other than the white paws.

A brown striped cat came out, approaching them and sniffing at Marinette's discarded shoes, as Barnaby proclaimed them to be a girl named Miaowzerella.

The only other one to come out was by far the prettiest. With long fur that was mostly coloured white, other than patches of beige that faded into black, Marinette almost choked on her laughter when Barnaby stated that the name was Greg, and then that she was a girl.

They'd only been introduced to nine of them.

But rather than comment on that, Barnaby bid them farewell, saying that they'd be left to their own devices with the felines. If they were caught doing anything inappropriate, they would either be called out over the speakers or requested to visit the barn, but other than that, they were free to roam and do as they pleased.

As everyone suddenly shot up from having been given permission, Marinette chose to search for the bedroom instead of crowding the cats with everyone else.

She grimaced when she found out that all ten beds were in the same room—all single, thankfully—and that a large bathroom was attached with only one toilet and a shower, meaning that they would all have to share. She was relieved to find that there was a lock on the door, at least, but she was still worried about where the cameras were located.

All of their bags were located in the corner. Marinette found hers easily, choosing the bed furthest from the bathroom, tucked safely away in the corner—the only one with a wall on one side, while all the other were spread out across the room.

Sitting down on the bed, realising that she'd forgotten her shoes in the living room, Marinette laughed when she realised that all of the doors had flaps on them for the cats to get through, including the bathroom.

She really didn't think that that was normal.

It would help for the show, though.

There was one screen beside the bathroom door that they were able to touch to interact with, swiping left and right to bring up the different profiles cats, the same as the one she'd spied in the living room. It was good that there were reminders throughout the house, as she was sure she'd have trouble trying to remember their names as it was.

The introductions were kind of a blur in her memory.

The others trailed in slowly, claiming their own beds while she put away her clothing in the drawers that were underneath her mattress, and she made polite conversation with a few of them. It was clear that some hadn't been successful from the scratches that were visibly red on their hands—even though they'd only been free for half an hour—while some others had cat fur sticking to their clothing.

She really hoped that they had access to cleaning supplies often.

Some of their questions were answered at dinner.

A few had posed the question of a single person cooking one meal for everyone, taking it in turns each night, and it was clear that it was the favoured method that most were gravitating to.

It wasn't her that evening.

The one that she'd saved all those years ago approached her. With blonde-coloured hair that was just as long as she remembered, Aurore introduced herself confidently. They sat together while food was being cooked, chatting about where they went to school and what they were doing before they'd signed up for the show.

She was easy to get along with.

A few of the cats came to sniff at them before running away, but for the most part, they were busy sleeping or playing with each other. One of the older contestants had lamented that they weren't too good with cats—that they'd been hoping for something dog-related—but no one else seemed to have a problem with them.

One of the cupboards was stocked full of food specifically for the cats. There was a minor squabble between everyone when they were trying to decide who got to fill the nine bowls—nine, not ten, still—but it was resolved by writing down an order list of who got to feed them.

The one that was chosen to cook for that meal was able to fill the bowls.

It was the little things that she'd never thought about that everyone spoke up about. Apparently, according to them, having a pet associate them with food would cause their relationship to be positive.

Marinette really didn't have a clue.

It was when they were seated at the table that Barnaby's voice came through the speakers.

"Hello, contestants," they greeted, the same robotic voice that had no emotion in it. "I see you're settling in well."

They'd discussed before whether Barnaby would respond to any of them, but they still had no idea if it was pre-recorded or not.

"I'm sure you've noticed there's only nine cats while there's ten of you," they mused. "There is a tenth, in fact, but they're a special guest. Try not to be too shocked when they come-and-go as they please—remember, the same rules will apply to them."

She didn't know what to make of that.

-x-

Kitty McMeowMeow was the first to approach her.

Marinette stayed as still as she could, holding out her hand for him to sniff, and her lips curled into a smile as she took in his squished face. There was something cute about him, despite the long fur that she could see sticking onto her clothing, and she wasn't embarrassed to admit that she was overjoyed when he plodded over to her when she was getting a drink.

There wasn't much to do in the house, surprisingly. They weren't allowed television, no news from the outside world coming in, and the only entertainment they had other than talking to each other were the cats.

Someone had already tried to coax them over by putting their plate down after dinner for them to lick, but someone else had picked it up and taken it over to the sink.

She definitely foresaw some sabotaging in the future.

Although Kitty McMeowMeow had wandered off after letting Marinette pet him for a moment, she was one of the most successful. Aurore lamented when it was late, the two of them on their beds as they were close to each other, and a few others came to join them.

It was like having a strange sleepover that went on for a little too long.

"I've never had a pet," Marinette admitted, tucking her dark-coloured hair into a ponytail. "But I've always wanted one—seemed like a good idea to apply for this at the time."

Aurore snorted. "I've only ever had a dog."

She grinned at that. "Good luck."

She didn't have too much trouble sleeping in a room with nine others. Marinette had rolled over to face the wall, trying to forget that anyone else was there, pressing her head further into the pillow.

An awful wailing sound woke her up.

Marinette spluttered as she sat up, the others doing much the same, and since she wasn't closest to the switch, it was someone else that stumbled and turned on the switch.

Chairman Miaow was on the floor with a toy in his mouth, continuing to make the awful noise with wide pupils. The one that had turned on the light groaned and climbed back into bed, and it was Aurore that got up next, crouching down beside the cat to try and take the toy from his mouth.

He wasn't having any of that.

Chairman Miaow continued to wail, however. It was loud, nothing like any other noise she'd heard from a cat before, and it was surely worse because he wouldn't let go of the toy.

"Come on," Aurore begged, trying to reach out to grab the tail of the mouse.

Chairman Miaow jumped back, a high-pitched noise that sounded like a yowl escaping him.

When it became clear that he didn't want anyone to take the toy, or even touch him, Aurore flipped the lights off and stumbled back into bed. Chairman Miaow continued to make noises for a minute or so, to which someone eloquently told him to fuck off, and the sound of the flap being used for him to leave was audible some seconds later.

Marinette almost burst into laughter.

It really wasn't how she'd thought she'd spend her summer, not even when she'd been accepted to the program.

The next time she woke up it was morning—well, she thought it was, but it was hard to tell when the only windows showed the garden in the centre, rather than allowing them to see the outside world. She sat up slowly, blearily opening her eyes and making a hoarse sound of confusion when she saw that a man that she'd barely spoken to a day before was kneeled beside her bed.

It became clear then that she wasn't alone in the bed.

A white cat, one that she couldn't remember the name of at that very moment, was curled up at the end of her bed, further than where her feet could reach. The man was prodding the cat's paws, trying to coax it away from her.

"Shouldn't this be against the rules?" she questioned, running a hand over her face before pressing her palms into her eyes in an attempt to wake up.

The man just shrugged. "We weren't told not to."

Throughout the day, a lot of the cats stuck with playing with each other or sleeping. Marinette had no idea whether Dog sleeping on her bed counted for her overall time (she'd checked the screen after finding it in the living room), but she was hopeful that it did. There had to be a reason for the flap into the bedroom, after all.

They'd only agreed to cook dinner for everyone, so she had to fend for herself in the afternoons. It was when she was figuring out what to eat that there was a series of screams, that definitely weren't from the cats, echoed through the home.

Concerned, she ran towards the sound, almost tripping over when she identified that the commotion was coming from the garden. Six contestants were out there, some sat on the chairs provided while two were standing up, but there was someone else present.

Chat Noir stood before them, leaning his weight onto his baton that had been extended to his height, visibly happy and grinning from their reactions.

It had only been one day, and while seeing a familiar face was definitely welcome—it wasn't supposed to happen. The open garden meant that he could've gotten in using his powers, but they—

They'd both agreed not to do anything on a whim. The mere sight of them transformed sometimes caused civilians to be terrified that something had happened, and yet, there he was, proudly standing in the garden while the contestants recovered and started to ask him questions.

Marinette threw open the glass door with more force than necessary as she ventured outside. "Chat Noir!" she called, the tone of her voice not the adoring one that the others were using.

Chat wasn't supposed to be there.

She'd told him that she'd be missing for a few weeks, not quite sure on the length, and he'd assured her that he'd be fine without her. That meant that he wasn't supposed to be standing in front of her, fully transformed with a wolfish grin that showed he was enjoying the situation far too much.

He pivoted on his heel to face her properly, a flicker of surprise visible before his smile widened, showing his teeth.

"You're not supposed to be here," Marinette stated as she came to a stop in front of him, crossing her arms and staring up at him in disapproval. The height difference between them was as drastic as ever, with her coming up to his chest, but it usually wasn't when only one of them was transformed. "What the hell are you doing?"

But rather than reply normally, he just rocked onto his heels and made a cat noise as he pressed the button to make his baton as small as possible.

She stared.

He made that noise again.

All she could say was, "You're not a cat."

And yet, he made the same noise, purposely louder.

It was a little bit jarring.

Then, before anyone else could get a word in, the distinctive crackle of the speakers throughout the house coming to life sounded.

"I see you've managed to find our tenth cat," Barnaby announced, the robotic voice as emotionless as ever. "Or did he find you? Whichever it is, remember the rules. They apply to all cats."

Hysterical laughter escaped her in seconds. As Chat stood in front of her, clearly pleased with their attention, she couldn't stop herself from laughing until tears appeared in her eyes and her breaths became raspy. It was just—it was so ridiculous that she couldn't quite comprehend how her life had taken the turn that it had.

That was the very same person that she'd had a crush on for years, pining awkwardly from afar while they'd barely been friends, until they'd shared their identities with each other. So, to see him purposely acting like a cat, ignoring all of their questions, while she knew so much about him—

She was losing it, clearly.

If anyone else knew that Adrien Agreste, beloved model and son of a famous fashion designer, was pretending to be a cat on a reality television show, they surely would've had the same reaction.

When she'd recovered enough to reach up and wipe at her damp eyes, he wasn't even trying to hide his pleased reaction; still, she knew him well enough to see that he was surprised that she was there at all, though he was definitely happy about that.

Rather than answer any of their questions—even with a vague gesture or a cat noise—Chat extended his baton and vaulted away, over the roof with a clear show that his powers were surely magical, as no normal human being would've been able to replicate it.

One of the others took the words out of her mouth as they asked, "Did I just imagine that?"

She choked out a laugh.

-x-

Chat's appearance had stirred up a lot of drama.

It wasn't until the screens updated and showed his non-detailed profile that the others truly believed that he'd appeared. Marinette was still finding it hard to figure out how he'd agreed to it in the first place.

They had a system. They didn't approach civilians outside of fights, only checking to make sure that they were okay, and barely went outside in their suits if there wasn't any danger. There was no logical reason why he'd be able to be approached by a television network to be recruited for their show—

Turning up to charity events and fundraisers was a lot different to a television show, especially one with such a ridiculous name.

And yet, they'd managed to get him.

Marinette had excused herself while everyone made the appropriate noises and gushed about Chat's good deeds, utterly pleased that he was involved in the show, despite having disappeared after being there for only five minutes or so.

She was one of the first to go into the barn.

It involved pressing a button, much like waiting for an elevator, and then she had to wait to see whether it would turn green to indicate that she was okay to go inside. Just when she was about to give up, she was given the okay, and cautiously entered the small room.

There was only a plush chair facing a camera.

"Hello?" she called out, eyes flickering around uncertainly.

A question was answered when Barnaby suddenly spoke out with, "Hello, Marinette."

"I—hi," she stuttered, settling down on the armchair and fiddling with the edge of her skirt. "Do I just—I mean, how does this work, exactly?"

"I'm here to converse, if you wish," Barnaby explained. "You may vent all you like—none of your other house-mates will hear you."

It was like having a very public diary, then, one that could talk back to her.

Running a hand through her hair, she stated, "I don't understand why Chat Noir's here."

"Why is that, Marinette?"

It was almost annoying how they kept repeating her name. Maybe it was supposed to add a personal touch, to make it feel like they really were addressing her, but it came across a little condescending.

"Because he has responsibilities," she continued, hands dropping down onto her lap. "He's—he's not supposed to be here. The public panics when they so much as spot him when there's not an attack happening, so this... I don't see how this makes any sense to have him here."

Barnaby replied, "Have you considered he might like to give back to the city, Marinette?"

She snorted at that. "Give back? If anything, we should be giving to him."

"Be more involved, then."

"There's a reason he's not," she responded, not bothered from the implications. She and Adrien heard so many things through the years, from people demanding them to reveal themselves, to fanatics claiming that they weren't real people normally due to the magical powers. "For him to be here—on some unknown show, no offence—is absolutely insane."

Barnaby said, "Everyone has a dull summer, Marinette."

"If that's a jab at why I'm here, it's because I want the money," she replied dryly. "I would've had a fun summer without this, thank you."

They almost sounded sarcastic as they responded with, "I'm sure."

It was useless having a conversation with Barnaby. Whoever was behind them, inputting the answers, was clearly not going to tell her anything.

It was only when she'd left the barn that she'd realised how money-hungry she'd made herself sound.

"Fuck," she muttered underneath her breath.

Marinette stuck to the tactic of not approaching any of the cats, instead letting them come to her. One of her house-mates was successful in getting a cat to play with a toy with them, something they boasted about when everyone gathered at the dinner table, but it was the topic of Chat Noir that was brought up again that had her wanting to groan.

"Shouldn't be too hard to get him to notice us, right?"

She almost laughed. "He's going to milk this for all he can."

"What do you mean?" Aurore questioned, turning towards her with her blonde-coloured eyebrows furrowed. "He loves attention. He's definitely going to be on our side."

"You saw him earlier, right?" Marinette gestured towards the glass where the garden was located. "He's going to pretend not to understand us just to drive us mad."

Her point was proven the next day.

Much like the night before, Marinette was lucky enough for Dog to sleep on the end of her bed. Another cat—Kitty McMeowMeow with the squashed face—had lurked in the bedroom, but had chosen to sleep on a pile of clothing, rather than the various cat beds or scratching posts that were littered throughout the house.

Marinette had been one of the first to wake up early, had gotten the first chance to use the bathroom, so she walked out to the sight of Chat spread out across one of the sofas, taking up as much space as possible as one of her house-mates sat on an armchair beside him, visibly shocked.

She pushed her damp hair away from her face. "Isn't it a bit early for you to be here?"

Shuffling a bit so he could lean his head back to see her, Chat's grin was almost blinding.

Rather than taking the other armchair, Marinette walked to the other side of the sofa, forcefully pushing his legs away. He had every opportunity to deny her actions, to not allow her to do so, but Chat went along with it dramatically and almost tumbled off of the sofa due to his theatrics.

She sat down primly.

Chat mimicked a cat noise.

It was useless to try and make conversation when he was too busy having fun. Marinette could understand him to a point—it wasn't as though she'd ever get the chance to act as a ladybug on live television, let alone have anyone approach her in the first place.

She just shot him a grumpy look when he stretched out again and put his feet on top of her legs.

They hadn't had the chance to see each other in person for a month or two, both of them too caught up with university to arrange it. That didn't stop them from stalking constantly through instant messages and the occasional call, but it wasn't the same as when she could see his face everyday back when they used to share classes.

It really was a different time.

Marinette had come to terms with her feelings about him.

Back before the reveal that he was Chat, she'd become somewhat awkward friends with Adrien through the years, getting over the juvenile crush that had caused her to stutter and overthink everything when she was in his presence.

She never would've shoved his feet off of the couch.

"Marinette?"

It was Aurore's voice.

"What—how?" Aurore questioned, frantically pointing between the two of them.

Marinette almost wanted to roll her eyes. "He was hogging the sofa."

"I really don't understand how the rules work," Aurore lamented, walking closer until she was standing behind the sofa, leaning forward and resting on the back of the sofa. "Does this count as you forcing him to spend time with you?"

She shrugged. "I have no idea."

Chat contributed to the conversation with a terrible noise.

Marinette responded by shoving his legs off of her. Then, she purposely sucked in an audible breath and said, "Oh, no. I'm so sorry, Chat."

To her absolute horror, Chat chose to hiss at her.

It was absolutely ridiculous.

"Now you're hissing?" Marinette spluttered, incredulous. "You're—what are you even doing?"

Chat rolled off of the sofa with grace, not falling onto his face as he should've, and stood up normally as if nothing had happened. Without looking back at anyone, he opened the door to the garden, retrieving his baton from his back, and disappeared within a matter of seconds.

Marinette was almost convinced she was still asleep.

"That..." Aurore trailed off, confusion clear in her voice. "I think I need a drink."

She laughed. "It's, like, nine in the morning."

Aurore sniffed. "And since they probably won't give us alcohol, I'm going to suffer even more."

-x-

The first one to get a task failed.

It had been admitted to one of their other house-mates, but the information had spread around quickly, stating that the task had been to find out an embarrassing story from another house-mate, but they hadn't managed to get anything.

The plan was to get information from others, it seemed. Marinette wasn't quite sure how she felt about that, but the show needed more than just them making odd noises to try and coax cats over to them.

Marinette was still sticking to her tactic.

On the fifth day, she'd had Dog sleeping on her bed every night. But when the morning came, Dog continued to ignore everyone who wasn't a cat, turning her nose up at anyone that approached her.

It was a little satisfying to see one of her house-mates grumble from being rejected.

The cats still continued to wake them up in the night, however. Whether it was because one of them had brought a toy into the bedroom, or two were fighting and could be heard through the door, there was a lot of reasons for someone to stumble out of bed to investigate the noises.

All of the cats were adults (and neutered, thankfully), which meant they were able to jump on counters and cause a bit of mayhem. From sitting in the sink, regardless of it being the one in the bathroom or kitchen, or sitting on the countertop when someone was trying to cook and making complaining noises, there was a lot of mischief.

While the garden did have some flowerbeds for the cats to go in, the house had ten litter trays lined up beside the barn's door. To make things easier for them, the show had made it so a light was above each of them, and it lit up when a tray needed to be emptied.

Since it didn't count for them spending times with cats, no one volunteered to do it.

So, Barnaby chose to call out different names, demanding for them to do it with the threat that they'd be given a warning if they needed.

She never thought she'd have a robotic voice commanding her to clear up cat droppings.

Kitty McMeowMeow liked to approach her and brush his body against her legs when she was on the sofa, but whenever she tried to reach down to pet him, or even stand up, he darted away and pretended like nothing had happened.

Still, it was a lot more than some of her house-mates were getting.

Some were so frustrated that they were talking loudly to a cat that was just trying to sleep, demanding to know why they were disliked, having a one-sided conversation that would've been completely normally if the other participant was able to talk.

Another used their dinner to lure the cats over, but the cat—Greg, the beautiful girl that Marinette had yet to interact with at all—sneezed and didn't like the food that was offered.

Marinette felt a little complacent because of Dog sleeping on her bed. And even if that didn't count, the interactions she had with Kitty McMeowMeow would surely count for something for her.

There wasn't much tension in the house, but it was obvious that some were stressed that they weren't able to bond with the cats at all.

Aurore almost shrieked in surprise when one feline jumped onto the sofa beside her before stretching across her lap, purring.

"You did it!" Marinette praised, not feeling the jealousy that she should've due to Kitty McMeowMeow sitting down by her feet.

Aurore's blue-coloured eyes were wide. "I—yeah," she said, stunned and not moving her hands at all. "I have no idea what I did, but yeah."

"You attracted—" Marinette cut herself off, grimacing as she couldn't remember the name of the cat. It was the only one with folded ears, so she should've, but her memory was terrible at that moment. "I have no idea who you've attracted. Do you?"

Aurore probably would've shrugged if she could. "Miaowzerella?"

"Maybe," she said, leaning back against the cushion and getting comfortable. "Try and keep it up, I guess."

The cat with the folded ears was Telephone, not Miaowzerella. The name was just as ridiculous, but Aurore was happy to put a name to a face, and she was visibly overjoyed when she was able to pet Telephone without the cat running away from her.

On the sixth day, Barnaby called everyone inside the barn individually. Marinette was one of the last to be called, though she'd been told by the others that they were just asked standard questions, surely checking up on each of them and asking them how they were doing.

She imagined a few of them vented.

Maybe she shouldn't have felt so smug, but she did feel safe for that week. She'd witnessed the others being snubbed by cats due to their overeager advances, or just the cat generally disliking human company, preferring to be with the other cats.

When she had to get up to go to the barn, she scared Kitty McMeowMeow away when she stood up. The long-haired cat scrambled to run away, claws making sounds as he ran, and she laughed fondly at the noise.

"Hello, Marinette," was the greeting she received as she sat down.

"Hey," she offered, tucking some stray hairs behind her ear. "Any reason we're all being called in here?"

It wasn't as though she was expecting a real answer. "A check-up, if you will," Barnaby replied. "You haven't been in for some time."

She shrugged. "After making an ass of myself last time, I didn't really want to."

"What do you mean, Marinette?"

There was the habit of repeating her name so often again. "I kind of made myself out to be money-hungry?" It almost sounded like a question. "I mean, I'm not opposed to winning just for the money. It wasn't like I came on here with the intention of losing, you know?"

Barnaby seemed to try and sound insightful with that same robotic voice as they stated, "Some might say it's the experience that matters."

She snorted. "Yeah, but only when they lose."

"You're determined to win, Marinette?"

"As I said, what's the point of signing up otherwise?" Then, realising what she sounded like once more, she hastily added on, "It's not like I'm doing this to try and get a few minutes of fame. I get that this is being aired currently, but in a few months? No one's going to even remember me, and that's fine."

There was a pause where all she could do was shift in her seat.

Barnaby broke it with, "Do you have a low opinion of yourself?"

That was absolutely laughable. She may have had her face as Ladybug plastered over the city, cherished and adored by most, but that didn't mean that she thought she was useless in her everyday life.

She grinned. "No, absolutely not."

"Marinette, would you like a task?" Barnaby asked.

Considering the only other one that she knew of had been trying to find out an embarrassing moment from everyone else, she wasn't too sure that she wanted to agree—but it was a part of the show, and something that she needed to play along with to do well.

"That depends," she started, placing on thigh on top of the other primly. "What will I get if I succeed?"

Rather than outright answer that, Barnaby questioned, "What would you like, Marinette?"

She really tried not to show that she was annoyed with the constant use of her name. Instead of going for something too far-fetched, she chose to ask, "Will you tell me Kitty McMeowMeow's preferred nickname?"

And with Barnaby saying yes, she left the barn with a ridiculous task.

She really should've known that they'd try and use Chat to their advantage. With no allotted time limit, she had to try and make Chat break character and talk normally, rather than continuing to roleplay as a cat.

"Ridiculous," she muttered underneath her breath.

As requested, she didn't tell anyone about the task.

It was the next day when Chat did turn up, however, and she was sat in the garden with Kitty McMeowMeow by her feet and Dog—the white-coloured one that always slept on her bed—staring at her from a distance when Chat vaulted over the roof and appeared in the garden without making too much noise.

Both of the cats ran away.

Rather than exclaim how wonderful his feat of acrobatics was, as most did when he landed in front of them, Marinette crossed her arms. "You just had to do that, didn't you?"

After putting his baton away, his grin was wide as he mimicked her pose.

"Cats aren't supposed to do that," she pointed out, gesturing with a hand towards all of him. "You're ruining my immersion, Chat. How am I supposed to treat you like a cat if you're this careless?"

And because it was him, someone that liked to joke and play around when he was able to, Chat decided to crouch down so his knees were almost touching the floor, holding up one of his gloved hands as though it was a paw near his face.

She scrunched her face up in distaste. "Gross."

He had to gall the mimic a cat noise at her.

His smile was wide, clearly showing how much he was enjoying himself, and Marinette could tell why he'd accepted the opportunity to be on the show; it would give them the advantage of ratings—since not many shows could boast that they had Chat Noir on it—and he was able to be ridiculous with the contestants.

It just so happened that she was one of them.

He wasn't being as irresponsible as she originally thought. Chat was able to arrive when he wanted, and disappear for a few days without any complaints, though she had to wonder whether he had a contract that stated a minimum about of time that he had to spend in the house—

Not that she'd find out until after she'd left due to him being so insistent on staying in character.

Rather than giving him the pleasure of more of her attention, something that he definitely enjoyed, Marinette turned on her heel and approached the door to get inside, noting that the flap attached to it was still swaying slightly, indicating that one of the cats outside had only just used it.

Although Chat was classed as a cat for the show, she still wasn't sure on what spending time with him counted as. Marinette hadn't asked Barnaby, and when it had been brought up the previous day, no one else had thought to ask either.

The door hadn't quite shut behind her when Chat followed her in.

With a peek over her shoulder, it confirmed that he was walking normally again. For a moment, Marinette simply looked at him in exasperation, to which he grinned in return, and then she decided to trek back into the kitchen for a drink.

As she was about to put the glass to her lips, Chat made a noise.

She promptly ignored him.

Still, he continued to make it.

"You can get your own drink," Marinette finally said when he continued to be annoying, turning towards him as she put the half-filled glass on the side. "Since you're apparently too good to drink from bowls like the other cats."

As he was still standing up, Chat looked at her with wide eyes as he slowly started to crouch again.

It was like a terrible fever dream, something that she'd wake up from and wonder what the hell she'd been thinking.

Marinette was sure that her expression was utterly unimpressed.

He tried to make his eyes wider.

"That's not going to work at all," she responded, gesturing vaguely towards his face. "You're not that cute normally, so that's not going to accentuate anything."

Chat gasped, putting a hand over his chest.

Normally, he would've added on a dramatic comment to that, something about her breaking his heart, a statement that would've made her laugh fondly.

Marinette huffed. "Cats don't do that."

His reply to that was to make an even higher-pitched noise, one that had his voice cracking at the end.

Marinette couldn't hold back her laughter. She was just laughing at the ridiculousness of everything; she'd thought that she wouldn't see him or to talk to him for a few weeks, but there he was to playfully tease her in similar way to normal.

With a call of his name, it became apparent that her house-mates had realised that the tenth cat had appeared again. But unlike with the other cats, they were addressing him normally—well, as normally as they would with a superhero—instead of talking in a purposely high voice, trying to make silly noises to get the felines' attention.

Maybe they hadn't quite clued on that he was trying to be a cat.

And as he hissed at them, her laughter continued to flow.

As he'd attracted too much attention, with her other house-mates coming out from the bedroom to see what all the noise was about, Chat chose to disappear as quickly as he'd came.

Aurore was the one to ask, "How long was he here for?"

"Only a bit," Marinette answered with a shrug. "He just landed without any warning and scared off Kitty McMeowMeow."

Aurore rolled her eyes at that. "Not like you have to be worried for tonight."

Although she wasn't one of the ones with the most time with the cats, she definitely was comfortable. Kitty McMeowMeow's advances and Dog's presence at night would tide her over into staying another week, so she wasn't about to try and beg a cat to pay her attention.

However, one of her house-mates did. From trying to lure them in with food, to using their necklace to dangle in front of a playful cat's face, they tried a lot of different things.

Barnaby sounded through the house to tell them that they had an hour before the results were being told. It caused a few to be frantic, trying to approach the cats, and the felines in return were skittish and ran away from their enthusiasm.

Marinette gently bumped her shoulder against Aurore's. "You'll be fine."

"Hopefully," she said, gesturing towards the cat fur that was visible on her leggings. "Otherwise all this will be for nothing."

When the time came for the live show—the one that wasn't just the feed on the website—Barnaby addressed them all, and she was absolutely sure that there would be close-ups on their faces. Marinette fiddled with the microphone she'd clipped onto her shirt, trying to make sure that it was in the right place.

As she'd predicted, she wasn't evicted.

The total times were called out, from the most to least, and the bottom two were left in suspense during the break for advertisements. It was something that was to be expected, but she still felt sympathy for them.

It was a little awkward, but she gave the evicted house-mate a hug on their way out. They left through the same illuminated door that the cats had come through that first day, the one that hadn't been in use since.

"Well," Aurore started, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "That's over, then."

Marinette couldn't have phrased it better herself.

-x-

Chat was doing it on purpose, absolutely.

Whenever he appeared—for an hour or two, never any more—he seemed to gravitate towards her. Whether it was to tug on her shoelaces, knocking over anything she'd put on the coffee table with a purposely wide grin, or to just sit there and stare at her while imitating cat noises, he was doing it all at her.

And she'd yet to fulfil her task.

Barnaby still hadn't called her back to the barn, and Marinette was avoiding entering it willingly from the last time she'd made an ass of herself. There was no doubt in her mind that they'd aired it, and although she sometimes worried about what was being said about her, at least she was being honest.

"Cats don't have thumbs," she chastised as he stole her glass, taking a sip from it.

He looked her straight in the eyes as he tucked his thumb in, trying to hold the glass with only his four fingers.

It ended up falling to the floor.

Thankfully, it didn't shatter. Chat had actually yet to cause anything to break, unlike the other cats, though he was still trying to cause mayhem.

"You're driving me insane," Marinette muttered, leaning back against the sofa rather than getting up to clean up his mess. "And not in the usual way."

Chat winked at her.

"Okay, cats sometimes do that," she mused with a laugh. "But it's usually not on purpose, you know? Actually making eye contact just to wink at me isn't right. You really need to get better at the roleplay, Chat."

But even with her pointing that out almost every time, he didn't do anything more than crouching down every now and then, choosing to walk like a normal person and sit like everyone else on the couch when he wanted to.

But that didn't stop him from hissing at anyone that came near when he was trying to spend with her.

It made her sigh at the time, and afterwards whenever anyone asked what they were doing together.

With a glance to the side to confirm that her house-mates were looking at them curiously from across the room, Marinette turned back to him with a frown. "This is clearly favouritism, you know."

He shrugged.

"You're not here to play favourites," she insisted, gesturing towards the others who'd turned their heads away, pretending like they weren't watching. "Go make friends with some of them. I'm sure they'd love it."

He scrunched his face up at that.

Marinette sighed. "What if you get me kicked off?"

The mask stretched to keep his eyebrows covered as he raised them in a silent question.

"Okay, I know that won't happen," she answered, "but if you're going to keep on bothering me, we need to set some ground rules."

There was no way Chat wouldn't toss away the chance to spend time with her, even if cameras were recording them the whole time. They'd been so busy with university the past month or so that they'd barely seen each other, so be able to see him face-to-face more than once a week—something that would've been great as it was—was nice.

"First of all." Marinette held up her index finger. "Can you—I don't know—blink once for yes and twice for no? Cats are able to blink, you know, so you won't be breaking character."

And to prove that he was thinking about it, he hummed and placed a finger against his chin.

She almost snorted. "And two, don't neglect your other life to be here."

Making eye contact with her, so she could clearly see his green-coloured sclera, Chat blinked purposely slow.

She mirrored with his grin. "Great."

He blinked again.

"Cats do that to show their affection, right?" she questioned, playfully narrowing her eyes at him. "You're not flirting with me, are you, Chat Noir?"

At that, he made a cat noise.

Marinette burst into honest laughter.

Although he was the only cat to blink slowly at her, she managed to pet a few throughout the week. Dog continued to sleep on her bed during the night, avoiding everyone but other cats when it was light, and Kitty McMeowMeow had wormed his way onto her lap once, only for a few seconds before he'd gotten too skittish and ran away.

They were the two that she considered her cats, to the irritation of a few of other house-mates.

One of her house-mates had resorted to hiding food up their sleeve to try and lure a cat in to pet them, but Barnaby had called them to the barn within a few minutes.

That wasn't supported, then.

Marinette felt a little stressed when it was her turn to cook dinner for everyone, including filling up all of the food bowls. While the cats all tended to get along, some of them hissed and clawed at each other when another tried to steal from their bowl, or even share with them, and Marinette ended up trying to separate two of them with the end of a broom while they were making loud noises at each other.

She was happy when it was over.

As nice as it was to have all of them looking at her for once, it was a hassle. She almost tripped over Fluffy Wuffy—the bald cat that hissed whenever someone spooked him—when she was emptying all of the litter trays.

And to their horror, one morning she was woken up by someone screaming.

A cat had gone to the toilet in the shower.

They'd done so well this far; the litter ended up making a trail whenever a cat bolted out of the trays, sure, but none of them had been sick or did anything that could've caused more trouble than usual.

At least, that was until Kitty McMeowMeow caught a bird.

Marinette hadn't really been paying attention to the cats, instead chatting to Aurore and another girl about their experiences in school, and it was only the sound of high-pitched noises that weren't quite as complete as normal that alerted her that a cat was approaching.

And then, Aurore made a strangled noise.

Kitty McMeowMeow was the largest cat, they all knew that. He had a squashed face, a fluffy tail, and was loud when he wanted something—usually just food—but his skittish nature meant that he didn't usually approach anyone but Marinette often.

So to see him standing before her with a dead bird in his mouth while making noises, trying to get her attention, made her not sure how to react.

She'd never had a pet before, let alone one that would bring her in something dead as a present.

She stared down at it, her eyes darting between the bird and the proud cat that was standing before her, utterly lost on what to do.

Aurore, on the other hand, knew what she wanted to do. "Well, I'll just—you can deal with this Marinette," she announced, patting Marinette's shoulder on her way out.

The other girl went, too.

As Kitty McMeowMeow continued to make noises, clearly wanting her to react in some way, she warily stood up, taking a step closer and trying to see whether the bird was really dead.

It was dropped onto the floor then, and it became strikingly apparent that there was no movement. Marinette hadn't ever really seen a bird so close; sometimes they were perched in trees near her, or able to be seen in zoos, but she'd never really paid them that much attention.

She couldn't see any blood, thankfully. Kitty McMeowMeow hadn't taken a bite out of it.

"I—thanks?" she stuttered, not feeling as embarrassed as she'd been in the beginning to talk to the cats.

Kitty McMeowMeow started to purr, stepping away from the bird to rub against Marinette's legs.

Cautiously, she reached down and pet his head, still baffled by the turn of events.

They should've expected that it would happen eventually. While the lack of roof in the garden meant that Chat Noir would have an entrance and exit, other animals would be able to make their way in, too.

Her luck only got worse from there on.

Greg, the prettiest cat that tended to sleep all day and wasn't quite as playful as the others, tried to come closer and sniff at the dead animal. But she was too loud, so Kitty McMeowMeow turned around and hissed, a stark difference to the happiness he'd been showing only seconds ago.

Greg wisely chose to run away.

What—what was she supposed to do?

Marinette stood up slowly, crouching down to pet Kitty McMeowMeow and try and make sure that he was calm. With every step that she took towards the bird, she tried to see whether he'd hiss at her, or protest her movements, but by the time she'd made it over there hadn't been any problems.

At least, that was until the glass door to the garden opened.

Chat Noir announced himself with a loud cat noise.

Kitty McMeowMeow would've normally darted off, running away and hiding until there were less people—he was particularly skittish around Chat, but Marinette assumed that was because Chat was loud and had abrupt movements—but he stayed that time.

With a wide grin, Chat clearly hadn't glanced down at her feet as he flounced across the room, coming to stand in front of her while twirling his belt-like tail in his hand.

It wasn't her that protested to his presence.

Kitty McMeowMeow hissed loudly, fur on his back standing up in protest and his tail starting to puff up in clear disapproval.

He hadn't been that bad with Greg.

Chat looked a bit startled at the noise, and it was visible on his face when he caught sight of the dead bird by her feet that Kitty McMeowMeow was almost completely standing on top of, trying to stop him from having access to.

"Why?" Marinette lamented, running a hand through her hair. "You—you could've come at any other time, but no. You just have to make my life worse, don't you, Chat?"

His eyes were wide as he looked at her and shrugged.

The situation was resolved without much trouble, somehow. One of her house-mates had called out for her to wad up some tissue and pick the bird up with that to discard of it, but Chat's appearance had caused Kitty McMeowMeow to be too aggressive.

So, Kitty McMeowMeow chose to eat the bird instead.

The noises were dreadful, and she grimaced and slowly edged away to the other side of the room, dragging Chat along when Kitty McMeowMeow kept looking up and making grouchy noises at him. Marinette ended up pulling on Chat's tail to get him to move—even though he could've gotten her to stop in seconds, he indulged her and let himself be dragged across the room, aiding her for dramatic effect.

"You are the worst," she reiterated, hitting his shoulder lightly. "I—just what are you doing here? It's—it's almost night and you're wasting it here?"

He looked her in the eyes and blinked slowly.

"No, no." Marinette shook her head. "You don't get to flirt like that."

Chat winked instead.

Childishly, she stuck her tongue out in return.

He copied her.

The crunching was audible as Kitty McMeowMeow continued to eat.

-x-

She made it another week.

The highlight of the week had been one of her house-mates outright sobbing because a cat ran away from them on the day before the evictions. A few of them had gotten almost fanatical about trying to lure the felines in, while the others that didn't pester the cats ended up succeeding much more.

In Marinette's case, she ended up with Kitty McMeowMeow stretched across her feet most of the time when she was sat down. It wasn't that uncomfortable, though she did stay frozen in surprise the first time that it had happened.

Chat had popped in a few more times, spending a little while with her before disappearing. She had no idea whether there was an attack outside or not—the news was completely cut off from them—but she was hoping for the best.

The longest time possible on the show was shortened by one of the contestants being eliminated due to bad behaviour.

Marinette hadn't been present, but according to Barnaby, they'd made offensive remarks.

"What an idiot," Aurore said when they were talking about it later that evening. "He would've been in one of the top spots, too."

Marinette hummed in agreement.

"This does mean we'll finish a week earlier, right?" Aurore queried. "Since there's one less of us and all that."

"I'm assuming so," she commented. "I'm not really sure? It means there'll be more time to spend with my family before I go back to university—if I win, that is."

Aurore snorted. "You might at this rate."

She haughtily raised her head up. "I'm blessed by having the best bed."

"Yeah, and with Chat Noir having a weird obsession with you."

"I don't think so," Marinette replied, shaking her head a little. "He just—I think it's because I don't fawn over him?"

Aurore squinted. "Is this you coming out as a lesbian on live television?"

The laughter that escaped her was high-pitched and breathy, utterly genuine. Marinette laughed until she could feel her face growing hot, a mixture of baffled and terribly amused that she'd come to that conclusion at all.

The crush that she'd had on Adrien when she was younger had sprouted into something else when she'd come to terms with him being Chat Noir—knowing that he'd have her back no matter what, after years of saving each other's lives, definitely added to the appeal that he had.

Without a doubt, she still had feelings for him, but they just weren't the kind that made her palms clammy from nerves any more.

"No, no," she said through her laughter. "As great as he is, I think he prefers to be treated normally."

Aurore shrugged. "Maybe."

"Maybe," Marinette echoed, a smile curling on her lips. "Why don't you find out for yourself? I've been trying to get him to approach everyone else—I'm sure he remembers you."

Aurore's head turned towards her quick enough for her blonde-coloured hair to move. "You—you remember that?" There was a stutter to her words, one that was barely ever present for her.

It sometimes passed over her how much some victims wanted to hide that they had been involved in the past.

"I'm sorry," she apologised, hoping that she was coming across sincerely. "I—yes? I won't mention it again, though. Don't worry."

Aurore swallowed audibly, and when she spoke, her voice was hushed. "Thanks."

When Chat appeared the following day, purposely sitting down beside her on a chair outside after scaring away any of the cats that were there with his landing, she greeted him with, "Hey, do you remember Aurore?"

He stared at her without blinking, his dry eyes surely uncomfortable.

"The blonde one inside." She gestured vaguely to the house. "Don't mention what happened to her, okay? It's a sensitive subject."

Chat raised his eyebrows.

"Not like you'd ever talk," she muttered. It had been weeks since she'd heard his voice pronounce actual words, and even longer since she'd seen him outside of his transformation. "As nice as it is to spend time with you, it's like talking to a wall."

He made a grumbling sort of noise.

"Seriously," Marinette complained, leaning forward and putting her elbows on her knees, head resting in her hands. "How am I supposed to talk to you when all you can do is blink? And I feel like this is almost cheating because you won't approach anyone else."

His response was to blink twice that.

"No?" She squinted at him. "No to what, though? You really need to be more clear with your blinks if you want to perfect this."

Chat blinked slowly once on purpose.

She rolled her eyes. "Do you get enjoyment out of torturing me?"

Silently, he opened his mouth as though he'd gasped, placing a hand on his chest.

It was a step up from when he'd actually gasped before, but it still made her laugh.

She reached out and swatted it away. "Cats don't do that."

He mimicked a cat noise at her.

Marinette muttered, "I should invest in a water bottle to spray you with."

After that, she chattered on for a bit, talking about anything and everything, even a game that she'd been playing—and had planned to recommend to him—before she'd had to move into the house. Unfortunately, before she could properly explain the mechanics, she was interrupted by Barnaby calling her to the barn.

Chat followed her to the door.

She shooed him with his hands, gesturing for him to spend time with the others or leave, rather than try and enter with her. A few cats had tried to go inside, but Barnaby always asked for them to be removed.

It shouldn't have been any different for him.

"Hi," she said when she'd settled down in the chair. "Is this because I've failed my task?"

"Hello, Marinette," Barnaby greeted her, always using her name. "You've failed, yes, but there's no punishment for that. You're free to tell the others, if you wish."

Tucking her legs up underneath her to be more comfortable on the oversized armchair, Marinette shrugged. "Maybe."

"Are you aware that you've been stirring up some attention, Marinette?"

"No," she said. "I don't have access to the internet or anything, Barnaby."

Barnaby's voice was as robotic as ever. "You seem to get along rather well with Chat Noir. Why is that?"

Of course it was going to be about that. He wasn't even trying not to be obvious that he only wanted to pay attention to her, to her chagrin.

"The same as everyone else?" she quipped. "He saved me a couple of times in the past. I think he just recognised me, that's all."

The hum that came from Barnaby sounded so strange. "Is that so?"

She'd faced so much worse than a television show wanting to know about her personal life, though. There wasn't much that they could do to make her nervous, not when she'd had to risk her life for years on end.

So, it was with a self-satisfied smile that she replied, "No juicy gossip, I'm afraid."

"A shame," Barnaby commented. "We had so much faith in you, but you'll never know Kitty McMeowMeow's preferred nickname now."

She snorted. "I'm sure I can figure it out on my own."

-x-

It was Kit.

Marinette kept that little bit of information to herself, only using it quietly when no one else would overhear, wanting to keep the advantage. Kit was a lot easier to say than Kitty McMeowMeow—a dreadful name, much like the others—and she was overjoyed with the added attention that she received from the cat since finding out his name.

But Kit's dislike of Chat only increased.

The next time Chat visited when Kit was nearby, Kit was stretched out across her feet, making her feel terribly warm despite her ditching the socks due to the hot weather, and Aurore was beside her, talking animatedly.

They were on the patio in the garden, not quite in the sun but still nearby, when Chat landed gracefully on the grass without much noise.

Kit started vibrating on her feet, but it was with a growl rather than the usual purr when Chat approached them.

She looked at Chat in exasperation. "Really?"

Chat shrugged.

Aurore chimed in with, "Are you going to let me in on this or do I have to leave? Because I'm quite comfortable right now."

Marinette snickered. "I don't know, you've got to ask the princess over there."

Instead of replying verbally, Chat chose to sit down in front of them, crossing his legs and sitting normally.

Kit still wasn't pleased with his appearance, turning to face him while grumbling.

Chat returned the narrow-eyed look to the cat.

"Stop trying to pick a fight with him," Marinette chastised, addressing the both of them as she gently patted Kit's head, something she wouldn't have done the previous week. The amount of time she'd spent with all the cats was making her grow more comfortable with them, definitely more than she had been when she'd first entered. "You're acting like children."

Chat snorted.

"Cats don't make that noise!"

Aurore was incredulous as she asked her, "Are you really critiquing him?"

"If he's so insistent on roleplaying, he better do it right." She sniffed. "His performance is really sub-par. I'm sure I could do better."

Chat raised his eyebrows.

"I'm not saying I will," she retorted, continuing to pet Kit's head, trying to coax him to calm down. "I'm just insulting you, that's all. You need to up your game, Chat."

With an audible exhale of breath, he shifted and crossed his arms.

"Oh, come on," she said. "You're pretending to be a cat while dressed like that. At least put some effort in it."

He jutted his lower lip out.

Marinette almost rolled her eyes. "None of that is actually your own doing. You can't fool me."

Rather than him replying with his actions again, Aurore interrupted them with, "Are you two fucking kidding me?"

Marinette blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"That was just weird, honestly," Aurore explained, eyes darting between them with a furrowed brow. "He, like, didn't even say anything and you were almost having a full conversation."

"...He's a very expressive person."

Chat chose that moment to imitate a cat.

Marinette didn't turn her eyes away from her. "See?"

Aurore's expression was openly dubious. "If you say so."

The others caught onto it, too. While Chat continued to only approach her whenever he arrived, a few of her house-mates took after Aurore's example and came over to talk to her, awkwardly attempting to engage Chat in conversation before promptly giving up.

It spawned a lot of comments asking Marinette how she could put up with having such a one-sided conversation with them, and she always earned looks of disbelief when she said that he was expressive enough with his movements to answer anything she said.

They just didn't know him that well, that was all.

She was well aware that she wasn't supposed to know him either, but since she hadn't brought up anything in their conversations that shouldn't have been there when anyone else could overhear them—even the microphone clipped to her shirt—everyone just had to assume that she was just good at talking to him.

"Stop," she moaned one evening while they were eating dinner together. "I am not the Chat whisperer. You're all just not paying enough attention to him."

Someone chimed in with, "Yeah, because he doesn't give us a chance."

She sniffed. "It's not my fault he prefers me."

"I hope you get disqualified," Aurore said after she'd swallowed her mouthful. "This is an unfair bias. You need to be punished."

Marinette pouted. "Rude."

"That's you, yes."

It wasn't really a highlight, but she was sure it would be the most teased clip for the show on Saturday. One of her house-mates burst into legitimate tears when they'd realised how little time the cats had spent with them, and it was only made worse when they'd exited the shower and shrieked because they'd accidentally stood on a cat that was lounging on the mat.

Marinette was torn between feeling sympathetic and laughing at that.

When the eviction rolled around, while everyone was sat on the sofa and staring at a screen as the announcer outside addressed them, almost all of them made a noise of surprise when the garden door was thrown open.

And as she turned her head to see what the commotion was, Chat was standing there, a hand still on the handle as he grinned widely at their reactions.

She sighed. "Why are you here?"

He responded with a cat noise.

Normally, he'd try and sit beside her whenever he came near, but she had house-mates on either side of her and Kit sitting on her feet, stretched out and purring away as he pressed his face against the material of her socks.

Chat seemed to realise that immediately.

Chat continued to make awful noises, more high-pitched than before and clearly supposed to portray his displeasure with the situation, but all she could think that he was twenty-year-old male imitating a cat on live television while dressed in an outfit that was usually associated with heroics.

"Chat," she said, practically hissing. "Stop being a dick."

And when he took a step closer, Kit stopped purring.

The feud between them was still very much there.

Chat edged closer again, staring down at Kit on her feet with a frown visible on his lips, and anything that could've been said was interrupted by the announcer addressing them again.

And as the greeting was extended to him, Chat still refused to talk normally. He sunk down onto his knees, adjusting to sit with his legs crossed and his tail pulled onto his lap, continuing to stare at Kit.

Marinette could feel her face growing hot.

He was just—he was ridiculous. As much as she appreciated seeing him when she normally wouldn't have been able to, it would've been a lot better if he actually acted like a human being, rather than roleplaying the whole time. There was also the fact that she didn't want to piss Kit off and scare him away, not when it was surely the time with him that counted for the most.

It also helped that she'd grown fond of the cat. Sure, he was quite ugly and his fur got everywhere, but his purrs were loud and he felt soft to touch (something not many others got to notice due to him running away from them).

The results started to be called out from highest to lowest once more, and she let out a breath in relief when she found out that she wasn't in the bottom two. And as the break rolled, letting the two that were remaining to lament and place their heads in their hands, utterly worried that they weren't going to make it, Marinette took that time to stare at Chat with her eyes playfully narrowed.

But he was too busy stretching out his hand to gently prod Kit's side.

"Stop it," she said, reaching down to bat his hand away. "You're being annoying."

He ignored her, continuing to reach out and irritate Kit with unwanted attention.

As Kit had already stopped purring, clearly displeased with the situation, Marinette took matters into her own hands and picked up one of the cushions from the sofa. Then, with practised ease, she threw the cushion so it collided with Chat's face, unfortunately causing Kit and the other cats that were around them to run away from the sudden noise.

Chat spluttered for a moment as the cushion fell down onto his lap, head snapping up to look at her with wide eyes.

She stubbornly crossed her arms.

There was laughter around them from her house-mates, but the one to speak wasn't anyone that she expected.

"Marinette," Barnaby's voice started, robotic as ever and sounding across the room loudly. "This is your first warning. Any further abuse towards the cats will not be tolerated."

She wanted to cry.

The laughter continued for some, the ones that didn't think that Barnaby was being serious, while all she could do was gape at Chat who was clutching the pillow to his chest, equally wide-eyed and looking right back at her.

It was a warning, at least. The member that had been kicked out hadn't been given one, and she suspected that if she'd actually hit one of the cats, rather than Chat Noir, there wouldn't have been a warning for her then.

Still, it was horrifying to think that she was that close to being kicked out because she was behaving normally with Chat. She hit him gently all the time, either slapping away his hand or even flicking his nose, but of all things, her hitting him with a cushion had been flagged.

She swallowed.

"Well, fuck."

-x-

Chat still didn't talk, but he did try to make it up to her.

When he arrived the next time, he had a plastic bag in his hands. He waved at her excitedly before dropping his hand down to his side, making a cat noise as he placed the bag in front of her, and it was only Barnaby's voice sounding throughout the house that stopped her from eating the cake that he'd bought her.

It was a sweet thought.

But outside products weren't available to them; anything he brought along was to be ignored and confiscated in the barn, and when Marinette was called in a few minutes later to Barnaby, she was told that he'd already agreed beforehand not to bring anything into them.

"Sorry?" It came out sounding like a question. "I think he just felt bad about the warning."

Barnaby's voice was flat as ever as they replied, "Do try not to abuse the cats, Marinette."

It was such an enlightening answer.

She wandered back outside, falling down onto the sofa beside him with a sigh, resting her head against his shoulder. It was a position they'd been in countless times, something they did in and out of costume, but it didn't occur to her immediately that it hadn't been shown to the cameras thus far.

"I can't believe I'm in trouble for throwing shit at you," she grumbled, closing her eyes. "This is so dumb. Why are you even here, Chat?"

His answer was to reach up and pat her head.

"Take that away before I slap you," Marinette muttered. "I'll get my second warning. Do you really want that for me?"

He ruffled her hair before pulling it away.

Remembering the logo on the bag, she enquired, "Are my parents doing okay?"

It wasn't as though they wouldn't be. They'd already assured her that they'd try to watch every show that they could, to make sure that she was doing okay, and her father had even said that he was excited to be able to log onto their computer to see her live any moment of the day.

Chat mimicked a cat noise as a reply.

"That's good." She grinned. "Thanks for that."

Their show of affection wasn't brushed aside. It was only when he'd left that it had occurred to her what they'd done—when she'd wandered inside after he'd vaulted away and met Aurore's bewildered stare.

The questions that followed her for the rest of the day were a bit irritating.

"I am not dating Chat Noir," she stated, surely sounding as fed up as she felt. "I wasn't even hanging all over him! It's perfectly normal to be like that—"

Aurore hummed. "I'm sure."

Marinette shifted in her seat, trying not to disturb Kit on one of her feet. "You don't believe me."

"Not really," Aurore admitted. "Chat Noir won't even talk to us unless you're there, and even then, it's just him trying to be a cat. And yet, somehow, you're close enough to lean on him?"

She shrugged. "We've been here for three weeks."

"Three weeks of you having one-sided conversations," Aurore pointed out. "Still, a bit weird. I don't think I could spend that much time with someone that didn't actually communicate back."

"He's very expressive—"

Aurore snorted. "Yeah, you've said that before. Barely."

Throwing her hands up in exasperation, Marinette exclaimed, "Well, not my fault that you don't want to get to know him."

"We're not going to be an awkward third wheel."

"There is nothing between us."

But that wasn't exactly true.

Chat had always flirted with her when she was Ladybug, back before they'd revealed their identities to each other, and he'd been both genuine and playful. And while she'd ignored him in favour of her juvenile crush on Adrien, that had definitely changed after they'd been honest with each other.

But neither of them had pursued anything.

Before Marinette gotten busy with university away from home, while Adrien was focusing on his own studies and modelling career between projects, they'd managed to make time to meet up with each other sometimes. But when it got busy around the time of exams, it left the two of them to mostly communicate over the internet, or those few minutes after the attacks had been dealt with.

She liked getting the texts from him in the morning, wishing her a good day.

They had a good thing going—not quite dating, but doing a lot more than just normal friends would.

Barnaby called her into the barn the following day.

"Hello," Marinette greeted them, still irritated that she'd earned a warning at all.

"Hello, Marinette," they greeted her. "How are you doing?"

She tucked her legs underneath her. "I'm fine, thank you."

"You're getting along well with the cats, I see."

That was true compared to some of the others. "A few," she confirmed. "Mostly Kit—hey, look. I told you I'd figure out the name."

"I'm very proud of you, Marinette." They definitely didn't sound it, not when there couldn't be any emotions present in the robotic voice. "Do you have any troubles with anyone within the household?"

That was why they'd called her in, then. Other than her house-mates trying to get cats to like them and occasionally bursting into tears, there wasn't much drama between them. Marinette was able to make polite conversation with a few, mostly sticking to Aurore and one other's side during dinner and throughout the day.

"No, not really," she replied, honest. "There's a few squabbles for the bathroom, for other than that, we all seem to get along really well."

Barnaby didn't answer to that.

She cleared her throat. "Is that all?"

"Would you like to vent?" Barnaby asked.

"Not right now, thank you." She shrugged. "I mostly just want to go outside to try and cool down. It's a bit insane how hot it feels inside right now."

It was confirmed later by talking to everyone that Barnaby had asked all of them the same question. It was clear that there needed to be some drama, but other than the cats fighting, there wasn't much that could be aired. Marinette could understand that they needed interesting segments to attract viewers—but they already had Chat Noir acting like an idiot.

She didn't think they needed much more than that.

The highlight of her week was learning that Kit liked to play with dangly things. A few of the other cats were into playing with specific toys, or with pieces of clothing (which led to some chaos in the bedroom when someone was trying to get dressed), and it was only when she was redoing her shoelaces that she found that out about Kit.

She was dangling her lace in his face when Chat next arrived.

As expected, Kit turned towards him and hissed as soon as he came close, ruining the peaceful atmosphere that had been there before.

Marinette's eyes darted between the lace in her hand and his smile before she decided to scrunch it up and throw it directly at his face.

Sadly, it only ended up making it halfway, falling down to the floor before Kit pounced on it, biting onto the lace and continuing to hiss at Chat.

"Damn," she deadpanned. "I was hoping he'd attack you."

Chat sucked in an audible breath.

"I need to perfect my technique," Marinette mused, brushing some stray hairs behind her ear. "Can't do it myself any more, right?"

Chat grinned, crouching down in front of the visibly irritated cat.

He got swiped at, but the suit made it so he wasn't damaged. Other than pulling away for a moment in surprise, Chat continued to reach out and try to approach the cat, clearly going against what Kit wanted.

Marinette eventually used her foot to nudge his hand away. "Stop it."

He jutted his lower lip out.

"That's not going to work on me at all," she teased, shaking her head. "I already know you're an idiot. Now, leave him alone, he's the only one that likes me."

Chat gestured to himself with a smile.

Marinette admitted, "I have no idea what counts as spending time with you—or even if it does at all. It's a complete mystery."

His grin reached his green-coloured eyes as he blinked purposely slowly.

"Yeah, thanks for being terribly biased towards me," she said with a laugh, reaching out and ruffling his hair, unable to make the cat ears that were perched within them move. "And almost getting me kicked off. Real sweet of you, Chat."

She liked to think that the amount of times that he was coming was for her, though it was probably in whichever contract he'd signed. Still, he was choosing to spend time with her instead of the others, something that she'd thoroughly missed.

If it wasn't for the microphone clipped onto her shirt, she would've told him as much.

"It's been four weeks," Marinette started, reaching down to gently tug the lace from Kit's mouth, "and I feel like nothing's really happened in here?"

Chat raised his eyebrows at that.

"Okay, other than you being a little shit." She grinned. "And a few people breaking down into tears. There hasn't been any arguments or anything—must be pretty boring to watch, right?"

Chat scooted towards her, almost hitting Kit in the face with his knee.

Kit hissed and took a step backwards, causing his tail to brush up against Marinette's legs.

"This isn't your show," she pointed out, running her fingers along Kit's fur as he continued to grumbled, displeased with the added presence. "The only entertainment value you bring, other than terrorising me, obviously, is your terrible rivalry with Kit here."

Chat tried to reach out to tap Kit gently on the nose, but his hand got swiped at instead, with Kit going as far as trying to gnaw on the end of his fingers before Chat pulled his hand back in response.

Her voice shook from laughter as she said, "Absolutely thrilling."

-x-

She made it through another eviction.

Aurore had been in the bottom two, but she wasn't the one that was eliminated. Still, Aurore had burst into nervous tears from the moment her name wasn't called and they'd been told that the show was going to a break, and Marinette hadn't wasted any time to scoot closer to her friend and comfort her.

And when Kit stretched out and managed to make it onto one of Aurore's feet, she silently pointed it out, happy for the development, rather than being threatened.

One house-mate in particular was rather territorial of the cat they considered theirs—Fluffy Wuffy, the bald one—and made a few comments underneath their breath whenever someone else tried to spend time with him, but other than that, things were peaceful in the home.

The teasing comments about Chat Noir made her sigh.

"For the last time, no," Marinette muttered, leaning her head back against the sofa and staring up at the white-coloured ceiling above. "Just because you don't seem to get along with him doesn't mean I'm conducting some secret scheme to win—I don't even think he counts that much, honestly."

There was still an obvious bias, though.

So, the following day, Marinette pressed the button to see whether Barnaby was available to talk. It lit up to indicate that she was okay to go in, the same plush armchair as uninviting as ever, and she sat down, straight-faced and ready to hear her name multiple times.

"How much does spending time with Chat Noir count as?" Marinette queried. "I'm guessing it's not as much as the others."

Barnaby wasn't so helpful. "That's classified information, Marinette."

"Well, I hope it's not too much," she answered. "I already feel bad enough that he's not spending much time with the others. And since my time's not at the top each time, I have to be correct, right?"

"Perhaps."

She shrugged. "I'm taking that as a yes."

"I've told the others the same answer," Barnaby stated.

"I mostly want to know how you got him on here at all," she said, gesturing to the small room around her before looking back into the camera. "It's the first season of your show and you managed to get a superhero to be a sporadic guest. Everyone else has trouble flagging him down for an interview."

There was no emotion in Barnaby's voice as they stated, "We're very convincing."

She hummed. "I'm sure."

"If you're done talking about Chat Noir, Marinette, would you like to attempt another task?"

That was a surprise. Out of all the tasks given, only one person had succeeded and was given their reward of news of their family on the outside (someone was due to have a baby, and they'd been worrying about it often), something Marinette hadn't thought of even requesting, not when she had Chat to give her vague answers when he wasn't being playful.

"Okay," she said slowly, not quite sure what she'd request in the off-chance that she'd managed to complete it. "It's not something ridiculous as last time, is it?"

"No, definitely not," Barnaby replied.

She looked at the camera dubiously and repeated herself with, "Okay."

And as she suspected, the next moment any hope for something different was squashed. "With the clear favouritism that is being shown for you, we'd like for you to attempt to get Chat Noir to talk again."

While she really did want to sigh loudly—and she did do that, but only after she'd left the room—Marinette accepted the task.

It was all for the audience, wasn't it? Marinette doubted that anyone else had been given such a task, though she wouldn't find out until they'd failed and revealed their woes to everyone else—but that was only if they were feeling talkative.

When she opened the door from the barn, it was with enough force for it to hit something solid on the other side before hissing was audible.

Shocked, Marinette quickly moved to the other side, apologies spilling from her lips as she turned to face who she'd hit, only to be met with Chat sitting down on the floor, clutching one hand on top of his head despite the fact that it wouldn't actually hurt him.

All concern she'd had vanished when she knew that it was him.

"Chat," she said, partly in relief and happiness from seeing him at all. "What are you doing here?"

He responded by standing upright, towering over her as they stood almost side-by-side.

"I'm sure you have better things to do than annoy me," she mused, lightly bumping her shoulder against his before she walked towards the kitchen, intent on getting a drink. "Do you want something?"

Rather than verbally replying to that, he got his own glass out of the cupboard and put it down in front of her, smiling widely when she looked at him with an exasperation.

She poured out his drink and muttered, "I'm definitely spoiling you."

He didn't have any problems with that.

When they ended up sitting down on the sofa together, a few of her house-mates wandered over, wanting to try and converse with him. It ended up with him expectantly looking at Marinette, silently demanding her to translate for him from his vague hand gestures that she only just understood, all the while trying not to burst into laughter from how haughty he appeared when they asked why he wasn't acting normally.

"He's a method actor now," Marinette answered, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "Can't be doing a lot of good for his reputation, but I think he's too stubborn to give up halfway."

He decided to confirm that with a cat noise.

The highlights of the next two days were a cat vomiting all over one of the unused beds during the night, Marinette accidentally kicking Dog off of her bed while she was sleeping—only for her to wake up and almost bring herself to tears as Dog ran away from her—and Santa Claws, the black-and-white cat, to rip the sofa on one side.

She told Chat all about that when he appeared, not protesting when he stretched out and happily placed his head on her lap. It had been a joke at first, since he'd seen another cat doing that to her before he'd scared them away, but she didn't find it too uncomfortable when it was only a short period of time.

"I think you might need a haircut," she mused as she brushed some strands out of his eyes. "Isn't it bothering you?"

He blinked three times.

"If you say so," Marinette replied, prodding the ears that were perfectly placed in his hair. She knew that Adrien sometimes grew out his hair for specific shoots, or spent more time in the sun during the summer, something that that made her laugh since he turned red before it changed into a tan that was acceptable. "You could be doing so much more than spending time with me here, you know."

Chat blinked twice.

She snorted. "No? Don't be ridiculous."

Still, it was sweet of him. Marinette definitely appreciated his company. While she'd made friends with Aurore, enough so that she was considering contacting her when they were both outside, the others in the household weren't as easy to get along with that she'd want to pursue a friendship elsewhere. They were fun to talk to at times, but she found herself struggling for topics, unsure on what to say.

While with Aurore, she'd already told her all about her woes of pieces of clothing she'd made for herself falling off embarrassingly during one of her presentations.

Touching the end of one of his cat ears, feeling the material, she murmured, "It would be a lot better if you actually spoke to me."

His smile became lopsided, only showing one dimple.

"What do I have to do to get you to talk?" she questioned, pushing her hair over her shoulder to make sure that it wouldn't fall onto his face. "There has to be something."

He made a show of thinking, purposely making his humming as loud as possible. Then, as he looked at her, he blinked slowly—still pretending to be a cat—before he lifted up a finger to tap against his lips.

It was a joke, one they'd done countless times, and it still made her smile.

"Yeah, not happening," she replied, flicking his hand to move it away from his mouth. "Anything else, Chat?"

He pointed to his cheek that time.

"And this will make you talk to me?" she queried, looking at him suspiciously. "As a normal person."

With a wide grin, he blinked once, signifying that his answer was a confirmation.

It didn't occur to her until she'd brushed her lips against his cheek in a chaste kiss that it could've been viewed as something different to anyone else—or that anyone was watching. Whenever she was with him, it was easy to forget that they weren't alone, though it usually helped when a cat was present to help make her realise that sooner.

But Chat—Chat was her best friend and a whole lot more all at once, something that was shared only between the two of them.

"Well, that's one way to get me to talk," Chat mused, only a few moments after she'd sat upright once more, his stupid-looking grin surely mirrored by her own. "Anything else you want to ask me for?"

She snorted. "Not any time soon."

"What a shame." He had the gall to wink at her. "That was getting harder every day, by the way. I almost went insane when you threw that cushion at me before."

Marinette laughed at that. "Maybe you shouldn't be such a dick to Kit."

Chat gasped, dramatically putting a hand to his chest, finally able to add on a comment after his theatrical movement. "He's a little shit!" he insisted, aghast. "You're not picking him over me, are you?"

"I don't know, I almost got kicked off because of you—"

He just grinned, the indents on his cheeks visible. "You were abusing me."

"And now you're trying to get me to kiss you," she pointed out, raising her eyebrows. "You don't think I'm that easy, do you?"

There was no embarrassment clear on his face, and there was a reason for that—perhaps a few years ago his ears would've grown red from her teasing, but it was rare for him to be like that with her any more, not when her words were similar to the teasing that they always had.

So, it only made her smile more as he replied, "It was worth a try, right?"

"Go big or go home, yes?" Marinette agreed with a laugh.

"Yes." His smile reached his eyes. "Now you're getting it."

He was sweet.

There was so much that she liked about him, all the positive ways that he made her feel and she could only hope that he felt in return, and it was because of her lingering feelings that she had to wonder whether he was being serious or not. They'd joked about it, of course, but Marinette hadn't pushed to ask him whether he wanted to act on his words because she hadn't wanted to ruin their dynamic that they'd had for the past six years.

It was because of that she put a hand over her microphone, her intention to muffle it, as she asked softly, "Do you actually want that?"

Chat looked confused as he replied, "Pardon?"

"I—you know," Marinette said vaguely, gesturing towards her mouth with her free hand, the grip she had on the microphone growing tighter, pulling the material of her shirt over it as much as she could.

His lips parted, but no sound came out of them at first. Chat simply stared at her while visibly struggling to find the right words, closing his mouth after a moment before he wetted his lips.

She was aware of the breath that she took in, holding it for longer than necessary as she waited for his reply. The hair that she'd pushed over her shoulder was starting to fall, almost touching his face from where she was leaning over him, and she'd never really thought that she'd ask that question aloud when he was comfortably resting in her lap.

But anything that he was going to say was interrupted by the sound of Barnaby's voice floating through the house. She jolted in surprise, Chat doing the same, and shared a look of horror with him when it was announced that she was to head straight to the barn.

She corrected her microphone on the way, sure that the heat that was suddenly there on her face was from embarrassment from not thinking things through—she could've waited for a time where they were truly alone, but it had been the first time that she'd actually wanted to say it.

Nervously, she tucked some strands of hair behind her ear as she sat down.

"Hello, Marinette," Barnaby greeted her, lacking emotion as always.

She swallowed. "Hi."

Her nerves weren't soothed as they asked, "Are you aware of what you've done?"

"I... I completed the task?" she said, but it came out sounding like a question.

Barnaby's answer didn't make her feel any better. "You did, but in the process you broke two of the rules set in place."

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably from that. She—she'd known that covering their microphones wasn't allowed, but they'd never outright stated that it would count as a warning in the end—or, she just hadn't been paying that much attention to find out that part. Still, she fiddled with the end of her skirt, not saying anything as she wanted for them to continue.

"An inappropriate act with a cat counts as a warning, as does covering your microphone for a private conversation, Marinette. You're the first to reach three."

The number of warnings wasn't what caught her attention.

"I—what?" she spluttered, staring wide-eyed at the camera. "Inappropriate? He's not even a cat—"

Barnaby only stated, "Fornicating with a cat is punishable."

It was outrageous. She knew that they wanted to treat Chat Noir as a cat—that even purposely throwing a cushion at him would be treated the same as any other of the felines—but it was just so ridiculous when all she'd done was kiss his cheek.

"And, what? If someone kisses a cat's head, they're going to get called in here?" she questioned, running a hand harshly through her hair.

"No," Barnaby said. "It's the intent that counts."

Outrageous was a bit of an understatement at that moment. "You—what? Did you think I was going to makeout with Chat Noir or something?" Her voice was suspiciously high, and she could feel her eyes started to sting with the warning of incoming tears from irritation. "As much as you'd probably like that for your ratings, I was not—"

"You were involved in an inappropriate act with a cat, along with two other warnings," Barnaby interrupted. "I'm sorry to tell you this, Marinette, but your time on Pussyfooting is over."

"Are you fucking serious—"

Barnaby's voice was robotic and emotionless. "Thank you for playing, Marinette."

-x-

It was all over the news within a day.

The show had been popular because of Chat Noir's inclusion, of course, and the mystery of why a second contestant had been kicked off had enticed the media—

So much so that Pussyfooting had released the statement that she'd been evicted for an inappropriate act with a cat a day before the show aired. Sure, the news that covered the stories could've scoured the live footage that was available on the internet, but they favoured the mystery and the rumours that were spread around, rather than the actual articles that were saying the truth that had been aired.

Marinette was caught between feeling incredulous or crying tears of frustration.

While she hadn't been allowed back in the house, instead told to exit through a door that she hadn't known was there, the news must've spread quickly.

Adrien appeared the day after she'd gotten home, back to her parents' place for the remaining few weeks before she had to return to university.

It was through the normal means that he arrived—ringing the doorbell and making small talk with her parents before he climbed the stairs to her bedroom, knocking on her door.

She was sure that her eyes were a little bit red still when she let him inside.

It was strange to see him dressed normally after weeks of only seeing him in costume. The change was a welcome one, though, and she couldn't help but smile at the way he awkwardly shuffled into her room, as though he'd never been there before.

But he had, countless times. He'd visited to her a lot when they were both back to living close, not wanting to abuse their powers and use them solely to travel the distance to see each other in person, but it had been a few months since she'd actually seen him as Adrien.

From the blond hair that was brushed across his forehead, touching the top of his ears that were coloured red, to the shirt that he'd pushed up past his elbows that was slipping down in protest, he was a welcome sight.

"Hey, you," she greeted, not feeling as awkward as he looked.

Adrien reached up and fiddled with the hairs at the nape of his neck. "Hey—"

"Are you here to see Chat Noir's girlfriend?" she quipped, crossing her arms. "Because I've already gotten a few messages from our friends about that. Word sure travels fast, doesn't it?"

Patches of red appeared on his cheeks. "I'm so sorry," he rushed out, skipping over a few syllables in his haste, only adding to his apparent embarrassment. "I was just—I was having fun, okay? I didn't think it would turn out this way."

"What?" She raised her eyebrows. "That half the city thinks I'm into cats in a really gross way, or that Chat Noir is apparently smitten with me?"

He rubbed at his neck. "I—yeah."

Taking a step towards him, Marinette questioned, "Which one?"

There wasn't any resentment for him for it. She'd lost the chance at a large amount of money, had managed to tarnish her miniscule reputation in the worst way because of news articles wanting to get more attention, but none of it was his fault.

She'd been too forward on live television, that was all.

The messages from friends had mostly been joking—they'd cared enough to look for the full story—and she highly doubted that her stint on reality television would cause her life to go downhill.

She could've milked it, accepting the interview requests that were sent her way, or posted about her experiences with Chat Noir, but she didn't want to do that.

Marinette's only plan was to let her life go back to how it had been before, hoping that it wouldn't be too annoying with the teasing comments that were sure to be thrown her way in person.

However, there was still one thing that she wanted to change.

"Both?" Adrien's voice cracked.

The want to tease him couldn't be ignored.

Marinette took in an audible intake of air. "You didn't think Chat Noir would be smitten with me?"

"I—what?" he spluttered, surprised, hand dropping down to his side.

"I think you'd know better than anyone else," she mused, smile reaching her eyes. "Don't you think so?"

There was a moment where his eyes flickered down to her smile before meeting her gaze. "...I really don't know what you're asking me right now."

There was always a chance that she could back out, play it off as a joke as she'd done for all those years, but—but she didn't want to do that any more. Adrien had clearly seemed interested in her when they'd been in the garden together, despite the cameras and the microphone that had been attached to her, and she never for a moment thought that he would be doing it for the cameras.

It wasn't a lie that he liked to show off sometimes when he was Chat Noir, but he wasn't the type to do that to her.

She wetted her lips.

It was only the wavering of her voice that gave away her nerves. "Would you—would you like to go on a date with me?"

She could see him swallow.

"Really?"

"Really," she confirmed, feeling a bit shy as she tucked some hairs behind her ear. "I-I hope I'm not assuming too much here?

A breathy laugh escaped him. "Marinette, I asked you to kiss me on live television."

She grinned. "Well, you kind of gestured it, actually."

"And I broke my sacred rule of silence for you," he pointed out, smile matching her own. "That should show that I really am smitten, right?"

She let out a laugh. "I guess so."