Day 6 - Game Night

When they discovered their interests coincided, it started as an request right off the cats whiskers.

"Can we... play sometime?"

Marinette agreed with some sort of absent hum.

Their nights started off strong with partner missions into fantasy worlds unknown. Then jumped along to tag teaming one-player games into dungeons until the controller passed hands into castles.

Till their games ran dry, and it devolved into: "I found this western game online."

It wasn't exactly fun, but with the company, it didn't need to be.

Over her shoulder, Marinette asked around the pins in her mouth. "And?"

"I'm thinking a carpenter from Ohio wasn't my best choice."

"Or maybe you shouldn't lead the expedition."

"Chat Noir is a fine name for a leader."

"Try Marinette."

"Hmph." Chat purposely emphasized his spelling, "M-A-R-I— Bridgette."

She paused the alterations to her current project. "Chat."

"What's that cat you compared me to?"

"Don't bring Felix into this."

"Ah, thank you."

She narrowed her eyes at his in-game creations. Fine. Whatever. He can take that jab at her.

"Now Emma, Louis, and Hugo."

"What?!"

Then the game prompted, and Chat read, "are these names correct?"

"No!"

He hit yes.

Marinette groaned into her hands a step behind him. "You misspell my name!" She twisted a finger into his shoulder. "Pair me with a cat, and steal my future children."

He nodded mournfully. "I'm one disaster after the next." Pondering, he added, "almost like... I'm bad luck or something."

"I hope they die of dysentery."

Chat shielded the screen. "You stay where you are."

She rolled her eyes, returning to work.

And then.

"Felix broke his arm."

"Boohoo."

"Found fruit." Clicking filled the silence. "They need water— oh, fort. Should I rest?"

"Don't ask me."

Minutes passed. "Why do cowboys ride off into the sunset?"

"They just do."

"But it makes no sense." He hung an arm over the back of her chair. "Think about it. The sun is setting. Given an hour after they ride, they'll have to set up camp. Why leave a perfectly safe town?"

"Their health is poor," Marinette pointed out the computer.

"Oh."

"Maybe slow your pace awhile."

"Okay."

Returning to his earlier question, she offered, "it's metaphorical. The cowboy leaves a mystery for hopes to ride on. Here comes this hero breezing through, saving lives. They don't stop to rest, so the people aren't disillusioned to the fact that..." Marinette's shoulders fell minisculely. "Maybe they're human."

Chat gasped. Sluggishly returning to her right mind, Marinette's eyes flickered to the screen. "Hugo's sick with typhoid."

Marinette rolled Chat aside. "Give me that."