Hi! So this took me literately forever to finish. I just couldn't get it to the point I was completely satisfied with. There are still a few things I'd like to alter but I realized if I didn't finish it now, I'd never finish it. So here you go! Hope you like it!
~Shippersindisguise
Chapter 4
I'm going to die here. Chat Noir is going to beat me to death with a stick and if that doesn't kill me then Father definitely will! And I'll never be able to go to the new Ultimate Mecha Strike movie with Nino next week! Adrien's thoughts raced as he stared down the girl's batons. Chat advanced a step, and Adrien hastily shuffled backwards, continuing to mirror each other movements until Adrien felt to the cold cement of the wall press into his back. Racks blocked any chance of escape to the left or right. Nowhere left to run…except right past Chat Noir.
Panic flared inside him as he frantically searched for anything to defend himself, his eyes falling on only a box of appendages for the wooden mannequins his father used in the design rooms. Snatching up a wooden arm, he held the limb into front of him, feeling woefully inadequate until a flash of genius reminded him. He was a fencer! And a damn good one too, he should be able to defeat some alley cat, whose probably never trained in their life let alone with the best fencing instructor this side of Slovenia! Assuming the en garde position he raised the makeshift saber
"Allez" He smirked, lunging forward.
T he girl reacted almost instantaneously, bring one baton down hard on the wooden arm splintering it and using the other to sweep his legs out from under him sending him flying into the metal shelving unit to his side. A sharp crack echoed through the warehouse as Adrien's head struck the support beam. Luckily, years of ingrained fencing instinct came through and as he was blacking out Adrien had the forethought to mutter "Corps-à-corps! Black…card" before succumbing to the darkness.
OoOoO
Shock and annoyance flowed liberally through Marinette as she stared at the boy standing before her. It was the same guy who had foiled her theft the first time, she was sure of it! What was he doing here again? What lunatic thought hanging out at a warehouse at night was fun?
Actually forget that, who cares - what to do with him now is the question. Marinette took a small step forward, testing the boy's reaction. He immediately backed up, bumping into the wall.
While Blondie effectively trapped himself, Marinette mind was running a thousand miles a minute. He had seen her face, so letting Blondie go wasn't a great option. Killing him was off the table too. She may be a thief, but not by desire, and no one was going to turn her into a murderer. She could tie him up, just to give herself some time to get out of the area. That wasn't a bad idea, but she didn't have any rope. Wait! – She had snagged some silver cording for decorations on a whim earlier, that would work perfectly!
Armed with a plan, Marinette pulled herself from her thoughts just in time to see Blondie charging towards her wielding….a wooden arm?
Her mother's lessons flashed through mind, and she reacted instinctually. One baton swept upwards knocking the arm/sword thing out of his hand, while using the other to knock his feet out from under him. Marinette winced as Blondie crashed into the shelving unit. Okay, maybe she was a little too forceful.
Stay calm, Marinette. Stay calm. Everything is going to be fine. He's going to stand back up in a second and be perfectly fine…..He's not moving. Is he dead? He's dead! Oh, I'm going to be sick.
"Corps-à-corps! Black…card"
Huh?
Marinette gaped as Blondie muttered a few words of nonsense before his head lolled to the side limply. Thankfully, the steady rise and fall of his chest could still be seen. Inched forward she gave a little nudge but the boy stayed still. Well…. this did solve her problem. Mostly.
Slinging her backpack over one shoulder, she glanced back at the boy. He just looked so young? Helpless? Maybe even cute? She wasn't sure what word exactly she was looking for, all she knew was that she couldn't leave him crumpled in a pile of fabric bolts and pincushions until someone found him.
Which probably wouldn't be that long with the detective girl in the building, she realized, grabbing the blond's legs to drag him away from the shelf. Scribbling a short apology on a crumpled sticky note found at the bottom of her backpack, Marinette almost made it the end of the aisleway before heavily sighing. Marching back, she quickly rolled some fabric and tucked the makeshift pillow under the blond boy's head with a huff.
Darting back towards the exit, Marinette just managed to get out of sight before the fledging-detective came running down the aisle.
"Adrien!" she shouted breathlessly, skidding to a stop by the unconscious boy's body.
Adrien, Marinette rolled the name over in her mind, Eh, Blondie suits him better. Then, flipping her hood back up to hide her face the security camera, she slipped out the door and into the dwindling light outside.
Alya frantically ran through every first aid she knew as she crouched over Adrien's limp form. He was still breathing, luckily, but a large lump was forming on his forehead. She grabbed a roll of material and went to slip in under Adrien's head when she paused. He already had a pillow…..but who would have done that? Chat Noir had attacked Adrien! It's lucky he's still alive at all, why would a hardened criminal bother to make a pillow for their victim?
"They wouldn't"Alya muttered harshly, dismissing the thought immediately. Right now she needed to focus on Adrien. There was no way she could carry him out and he needed to see a doctor as soon as possible, so waiting until he woke up was out of the question.
That left one option. Pulling out her phone she slowly scrolled through her contacts coming to one number she particularly dreaded calling. The reporter hesitated for a moment then pressed call. The harsh voice on the end picked up almost immediately.
"Umm, hello M. Agreste"
The sun had completely set by the time Marinette it back to their apartment. Humming softly she dropped her bag of fabrics by the door, before tiptoeing into the kitchen to not wake her father snoring softly on the couch. The only grocery store in the neighbor was small and dirty with bread that tasted just strange enough to make you question it, but it was cheap and close enough that she could usually grab a few things on her way back from her less…."legal" activities, like she had tonight.
Her soft humming filled the kitchen as she quickly put away the groceries she had bought. Slicing a banana, she spread peanut butter over a tortilla. Nearing the chorus, the humming faded away, replaced with words. "You are my sunshine! My only sunshine! You make me happy when-"
At the mention of sunshine, an image of a now familiar blond face popped into her head. The room grew cold. I saw his face. He saw my face. He saw me! He knows what I look like! The police will know who I am and I'll get arrested and I'll spend the rest of my life in jail!
Whirling around, fully prepared to pack her bags and leave the country, Marinette made it two feet before tripping over the open dishwasher. An inconveniently placed kitchen counter cracked against her skull and she collapsed on the ground.
**Author's Note: some fencing terms for you**
en garde – starting position
allez – "go", starts the match
Corps-à-corps – any move where the fencers come into contact with each other, considered illegal
Black card – punishment for a severe rule violation
