(I honestly didn't understand this prompt at first, but hey, the idea's not mine. Kinda like the series. -yay, disclaimer.)

Croissant Murder

Marinette looked up when she heard something coming down from her balcony and smirked when he finally made it into her room. She idly rolled her chair in front of her computer and stretched her arms over her plate of after-school snacks, claiming them as hers.

"I thought dogs were the ones who drooled, but this is hilarious," she snickered as Chat Noir stared at the plate with his jaw dropped. "You've got a little something hanging from the corner of your mouth there, kitty."

He quickly swallowed and wiped his chin, before looking up at her pleadingly.

"It's been two months since I had something sweet," he said, sounding serious. "I would murder for a croissant. Help me, princess. Please?"

"Hmm. Chloe Bourgeois."

He gaped at her. She shrugged.

"You offered to murder someone."

He gave a little sigh and rubbed his temples. "The fact that I am even remotely considering this says a lot about both our state-of-minds."

"It's the end of Fashion Week," she reminded him.

"I'm still not killing Chloe."

"You're right. Too high-profile. Lila Rossi."

"Princess…."

"Fine. Gabriel Agreste."

Chat laughed. "Don't tempt me. Don't you dare tempt me."

"I'm serious. You didn't see how exhausted his son was this week," Marinette said, scowling. "I love fashion, but somebody needs to tell that man to take it down a notch. Or knock some common sense into him, the hard way."

She missed the adoring look Chat gave her as she seethed in fury on her friend's behalf.

"At least Fashion Week is finally over," he said, flopping down on her chaise. He looked over at her. "Are you really gonna make me murder someone for a snack?"

"I'll bake you a whole pie if you take out Ms. Mendeleiev," Marinette muttered, glaring down at her physics homework ('it's the weekend! You have twice as much time, so you should get twice as much work done!'). She tossed Chat a croissant. He immediately scarfed it down and sighed in bliss.

"That's quite the hit list, princess," he grinned. "Should I be worried? Are you secretly an evil villain?"

"Muahahahaha!" Marinette teased, lowering her voice and attempting to look scary. "Fear me! Doom and gloom and bad b-movie lines! Muahahaha!" she started coughing on that last evil laugh, and looked up to see Chat shaking with laughter.

"I take it that's a no, huh? I'm just not scary enough?" she mock-pouted.

"I think you've got the wrong role," Chat said. "Female evil villains are more like… 'Ku ku ku!'" He put his hand against his mouth primly and imitated a high cackle.

Both he and Marinette were silent for a moment.

"I did that a little too well, didn't I."

Marinette burst out laughing.

"Behold, Chat Noir, the sexy Evil Mistress!" she said.

"Darn right," he agreed, getting up and strutting his stuff around her room. "You know why they call it a catwalk, princess?" he asked, idly twirling his tail and popping a hip.

"Because I. Own. It." He tossed his hair dramatically.

Marinette laughed harder and applauded. "Bravo! Bravo! Here, let me stuff these in your belt," she said, grabbing a couple croissants.

Chat looked offended. "When did I go from sexy Evil Mistress to stripper?"

Marinette shrugged. "Well, if the black leather cat-suit fits…."

He glared at her. "I am offended," he said, "and I'm going to take these cookies and go be alone with them in the corner now."

"Hey!" Marinette exclaimed, as he grabbed her whole plate of treats. She shook her head at his antics. "You'd be more believable if you'd stop shaking your hips when you're walking away from me!"

"Just admit it, princess!" Chat called over his shoulder. "You hate to see me go," he looked back at her and winked, "but you love to watch me leave."

The yarn ball threw itself at his head. Really.

End.