Chat Noir softly landed on a balcony, tail flicking out to maintain his balance.

Unfortunately for him, he had chosen a balcony with many, many potted plants. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't as surefooted as he would've liked to have been. Unfortunately for him, he hadn't seen the girl, who was thoroughly wrapped in a fluffy pink blanket, dozing in lounge chair.

The minute he fell over a pot of flowers, she shot up, eyes wide with a mixture of alert terror and hazy sleep. Chat held his hand up in a placating gesture.

In the dark, even with his vision, he could just see a mess of dark hair and a small nose.

She blinked. It was dark out, so he wasn't even sure if she saw him at all. But then, she grabbed a spray bottle that had been sitting innocently next to the chair, and chucked in his direction. It him in the forehead.

"Fuck!" He cursed as he stumbled back slightly, surprised by the strength in her throw.

Apparently, she hadn't been expecting anyone to actually be there, as she yelped and tried to scramble back. The tangles of the blanket caught on the edge of the lounge and she flailed off.

"Oof!"

Chat rushed over. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

Her eyes were blue. Very blue. They blinked at him.

Then suddenly, all he could see and feel was pink fluff.

He ripped the blanket off his head and took a step back from the girl. "Okay, I get it, don't get too close."

"Who are you and why are you on my balcony?" Her voice was not as small or high-pitched as her petite frame would suggest. Though it did sound hoarse from lack of sleep.

Chat bowed low, but kept his eyes on the girl, who was now clutching a watering can. Jeez, she seemed to have a never-ending supply of weapons.

"Chat Noir, Protector of Paris, at your service."

She tilted her eyes and squinted at him. He had forgotten that civilians didn't have the same eyesight as he had when transformed.

"I didn't know the Parisian superhero made it a habit to sneak up on young girls in the middle of the night." Suspicion and disbelief tainted her voice.

"Well, to be completely honest, I didn't see you there. I'll tell you a secret: I usually stop on balconies to rest a bit during patrols," he winked, but sobered up a bit as she raised the watering can higher. "Sorry to have bothered you."

She sniffed. He couldn't help but notice the flowery pattern of her pajamas. "Are you sure you're Chat Noir?"

He couldn't help it. Letting out a loud laugh that reverberated through the quiet Parisian streets, Chat responded, "Absolutely Purrsitive."

Her big blues eyes blinked again. "I've gotta be dreaming. That was terrible."

He placed an offended hand to his heart. "Oh how you wound me, first you damage my gorgeous face, and now striking where it hurts man the most. I'll have you know that my humor is deeply underappreciated in Paris."

She snickered. "Sorry about your face." She deliberately ignored the quip about his humor.

He shrugged. "Sorry for bothering your beauty sleep."

The odd girl shrugged. "Just don't do it again." Then she promptly wrapped herself back into a pink burrito.

He really hadn't meant to land on her balcony again.

The akuma had made its way near Chloe's school, and he had five minutes before his transformation wore out. Spotting a terrace with a number of potted plants that would provide protection from prying eyes, he made a split-second decision to hide there while Plagg recharged.

He dropped into a bush, assuming that no one would be there.

A loud curse informed him otherwise.

"What. The. Fuck?" Something solid and heavy hit his arm and he stumbled back.

His jaw dropped as he recognized his attacker as the girl he had disturbed a week ago. The first thought he had was how much more awake she looked this time. Her hair had been brushed into two pigtails and she wore a pink shirt under crisp white overall shorts. He mentally made a note of how she only came up to right below his nose.

In her hand was a notebook.

Ah, so that was what had hit him.

"We've gotta stop meeting like this." He smirked as he rubbed the sore spot on his right arm.

"Oh so it really as you last time? I wasn't quite sure if I had hallucinated that or not." She pointed the book at him in an accusing manner. "What are you doing on my balcony again?"

"Well you see," he rubbed his neck nervously, "there was an akuma attack an–"

Her eyes widened and she interrupted, "Oh, that's terrible. Poor akuma."

He tilted his head a bit at her unstandard response in the face of danger, but continued . "I don't know how much you know about my powers, but I used Cataclysm which means–"

"That you only have a couple minutes before you detransform, got it."

He gaped at her, both because of her second interruption and because he had been sure that she wasn't a big superhero fan from her rather lackluster reaction to him. (Not that he was noticing or anything).

She shrugged. "My best friend runs The Papillon Watch. She knows a bit about you."

Ah, the blog that tracked him and the akumas. It was a surprisingly reliable source of information. Chat was impressed.

The girl cocked her eyebrow at him. "You know, you are notoriously hard to get information on. Alya would be freaking out right now."

He didn't mention her lack of 'freaking out'.

Before he could say anything, she turned around and began to walk away. "I'm sure you need to transform and everything," a hand waved lazily behind her, "Alya's always going on and on about how superheroes have to keep civilian identities separate or something so I'll let you do that in peace."

She opened what looked like a trapdoor into the room below and gave him a quick salute. "Go kick that akuma's butt. And if you scare me on my balcony again, I will fucking kick your butt."

She dropped down with a grin, letting the trapdoor close after her.

What an odd girl.

Marinette peeked out her trapdoor and grinned when she spotted the clear night sky.

Perfect.

She checked to make sure that her bedroom door was closed, before climbing out in her pink nightdress. She took a deep breath, before starting some light music on her phone.

And then, she started dancing.

She wasn't a great dancer by any account. In fact, Alya had often teased her about her lack of rhythm. But dancing was a great stress reliever. Especially under the stars.

Marinette closed her eyes. Happy ukulele and soft English words streamed out her phone, and she bounced on the balls of her feet. Her hair wobbled dangerously in a loose high bun.

She was so absorbed in the music that she completely missed the light thump behind her.

Chat Noir had been patrolling once more, something he tried to do every night, if not every other night, when someone's music had caught his attention. It was late, and the music flitting between the rooftops was definitely not the heavy club music he was used to at this hour.

Curious, he followed it to a rooftop. A rooftop that was slowly becoming rather familiar. A warm feeling spread across his chest as the strange girl he had encountered twice before leaped and twirled to music, which was soft yet upbeat at the same time. Her quiet voice melodiously followed the song.

He could tell that she wasn't a trained dancer, but there was a lightness in her feet that caused him to grin stupidly. Her pink nightgown swished around her, and it was an adorable image.

He landed behind her.

Which he realized was a mistake as she swung her arm back in time for the chorus and hit him squarely in the face.

"OH MY GOD WHO THE FUCK?"

Chat cringed and took a huge step back. The light of the moon, much brighter than the night of their first meeting, shone on both their faces, and Chat swallowed the instance recognition dawned in those blue eyes.

"You…!"She snarled, face flushed with anger. Leaning in, she jabbed a finger towards his face. "Look pretty boy, my balcony isn't your resting place for patrol or whatever it is you superheroes do."

He panicked and said the first thing that came to his mind. "You're definitely not a dancer."

At her continuing glare, he realized his mistake several seconds later. "Fuck! I meant-well, I'm sure you're an amazing, I'm just sure that you're not a professional or anything...Not that that's obvious! I mean it is obvious a little bit, but I really like your dancing okay–"

Her face was slowly evolving into an amused expression and his mind blanked. "–I mean, you're really pretty."

She blinked.

"I-"

She blinked at him again.

Then her face relaxed and she took a step back. "You, Chat Noir, are one odd superhero." She stuck out her hand, "If you're gonna be stalking my balcony more, you might as well know my name. I'm Marinette."

He cautiously took her small hand in his leather covered one, a tiny bit afraid she would punch him. "Um, Chat Noir."

She cocked her eyebrow. "Yeah, you're kind of a big deal around here."

Frozen. That's what he was. This girl standing before him, emanating confidence and sass at a mask-covered stranger, was doing weird things to him. He stammered, "Uh-Am I really?"

She laughed at him, a loud laugh that echoed throughout the late nights of Paris, and Chat knew he was in trouble already.

"I don't know, why don't you tell me Kitty Cat."

AN: So I was bored and wanted to write some marichat

idk if i'll continue this but if anyone is interested i'll definitely consider it!

(also this was 0% proofread)