Tap... Taptaptap... Tap...

Startled, Marinette spun to face her window, eyes straining against the dark to find the source of the noise. She stepped forward, heart fluttering as adrenaline rushed through her body, and jumped as a pair of bright green eyes appeared in the gloom.

"Chat Noir?!"

He grinned, bearing incisors just a little too sharp to be human, and pointed up to her balcony. When Marinette didn't move, his smile dropped to an exaggerated pout.

'Fine,' she thought bemusedly, 'I'll see what he wants - but WHY is he here?'

She climbed the narrow stairs that led to her loft and pushed open the trapdoor. Chat was already crouched beside the opening. His ears twitched as the hinges creaked, complaining loudly about the moist spring air.

"Well? You might as well come in, I guess." She took a step back, making room for her partner. But Chat remained sitting on the roof, suddenly completely absorbed in a small spiderweb strung delicately from a plant. He blew gently on the silver threads, watched them quiver, and his pupils narrowed, eyes tracking the tiny spider that darted to the edge.

Marinette huffed, now more irritated than confused. The stupid cat! Obviously it couldn't be that important, if he was going to sit there messing with bugs. Not that she was jealous, or anything. Just that if he was going to play with a bug, Ladybug was much more interesting than an arachnid.

She closed the hatch, fully intent on letting it slam shut before remembering that her parents were asleep. She caught it and lowered the door gently, thought a moment, and swung the latch shut to lock it - a surprise visit was obnoxious enough, and she would prefer Chat didn't literally drop in.

A second later, halfway down the steps, the clatter of claws on wood drew her attention back to the ceiling. It paused, followed by a soft knocking. When Marinette didn't move, the scratching started up again insistently.

That door had just been repainted, and he was going to ruin the finish. The girl stomped back to the loft and swung the hatch open, smacking Chat in the face. His eyes widened in offense, and he stalked to the opposite corner of her balcony. Marinette was torn between embarrassment and laughter as he lifted a gloved hand to his mouth to lick with a dignified expression.

But... why was he acting like this? Sure, the boy was annoying, but generally he at least acted PARTLY human. "Here, minou!" She called out to him gently, hand outstretched, trying to coax him nearer. After several minutes of murmuring while Chat pretended not to here her, Marinette sighed dramatically and turned to go back inside.

Immediately he leapt in front of her, and she nearly fell over the slim figure as he wound around her ankles before darting down the steps. Marinette closed the trapdoor automatically, always wary of sudden showers of rain and insects.

"Chat, no!" She ran after him, pulling a ball of pale green yarn from his grasp. It snagged on the tips of his claws and he batted it out of her hand.

He pounced on it as it unraveled across the floor, and she noticed several torn leaves that were caught in his messy blond hair. As he was distracted by destroying her knitting supplies, she plucked the fragments of plant from his head and inspected them. They smelled familiar, soft and musky.

Now bored, Chat bounded back up the steps and pawed at the door. A low whine escaped as he looked at her pleadingly. Marinette walked over, stunned by the surreal quality the night had taken on, and opened the door again. He poked his head out, and began to clamber out before dropping down again, fixing his eyes on hers.

Suddenly, Marinette was able to place the smell of the leaves crushed in her hand.

It was catnip.