Chapter 7
0000
Marinette's POV
"God Damn it!" The curse she gave out made the programmer in her office jump out of his seat and fix her with a look of incredulity.
Marinette slammed her fist into the surface of her desk and glared so hard at her computer monitor that it was a miracle it didn't melt into a puddle of plastic and wiring. The programmer leaned in to see what she was so upset about and had to stifle a coarse chuckle. She snapped her eyes over to the tech guy and glowered at him with just as much venom, but he didn't seem at all affected by it.
"So, you like cats?" The man asked, his small mouth pulling into a cheeky grin.
"No." Growled Marinette. "Actually, I don't." She turned away from the tech guy and pulled up the settings on her computer so she could change the background.
Somehow, and she wasn't sure how, Chat had hacked into her computer. The picture marring her desktop was a man's body, stretched out over a carpet, wearing nothing but underwear and covered in rose petals; except someone had photo shopped the head of a black cat on the man. She knew it was Chat's doing, because it was obvious. Marinette had just finished swapping the background to something work appropriate when the programmer spoke to her again.
"Someone at the office has a poor sense of humor," he chuckled.
"Something like that," murmured the curator. She glanced at the tech guy and realized she hadn't actually seen much of this one. He usually worked while she was busy in other parts of the museum and he never stayed late. She couldn't even recall which museum he was from, just that he was one of the temps brought on to help.
The man noticed her staring and raised a thin brow. "Hey, the name's Felix Yersinia." His greeting was more of a mockery than cordial but he held out his hand anyway. "I don't think we've been properly introduced, I usually just call you boss."
Marinette mulled over whether to give her first or last to this man; she decided both since that's what he provided. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng," she returned the greeting and shook his tiny hand. Marinette looked down, the man really did have small hands. This prompted her to scrutinize the rest of him a little more.
Felix was a round man, squat with small hands and feet. He kind of reminded her of an Italian plumber from a popular video game, sans the ridiculous mustache of course. Felix had dark brown hair that was slicked back, skin that was a toasty tan color and he wore unremarkable clothing; white T-shirt, sleeveless black button down, and black slacks. His large eyes were constantly shining with amusement as if he were taking pleasure in a joke no one else was privy to.
She moved her attention to the desk he was set up on. It was covered with the usual paraphernalia the programmers had, and food wrappers. Unusual food wrappers though.
"You like… cheese?" she prompted.
Felix spared a glance at the empty round box on his desk full of wax paper. "Yeah," he replied. "I love cheddar, and swiss, but especially camembert." He gestured to the empty box before scraping it into the trash.
Marinette decided that was probably why he was so round.
"Almost as much as you like cats," he added slyly and wiggled his brows. "Though I'd prefer my camembert with a more feminine body." He added the last part with a nasally chuckle.
"I do not like cats!" howled Marinette. She threw her head back and slouched into her chair.
"Good, I don't like them either."
Both Marinette and Felix started, and bolted upright to face the woman who just intruded upon their conversation. Tikki had her head poked in the office, hands braced against the threshold and she was grinning from ear to ear. Her frizzy red hair was down today and made a mane around her head that could rival a lion. She was dressed in a smart navy colored blazer and pencil skirt, looking every part of the director that she was.
"What kind of women hate cats so much?" whined Felix. He wrinkled his nose and swiveled his chair around to face both ladies. "What are you, dog people?" He swapped his gaze between both bosses, directing his question at either.
"Hamster person," volunteered Marinette, unashamed. "Hamsters, or ferrets."
"I don't like animals" Tikki remarked. "I like inanimate objects."
Felix rolled his eyes and turned away from the women, burying his head in his work and pretending to ignore them.
"How's that exhibit coming along?" asked the director. She fixed her attention on Marinette. "It's due to open in a week."
The curator pushed up from the chair and grabbed her phone from atop the desk. "I'll fill you in on the way to the vault. We're supposed to work on the Bastet and Horus section today." Marinette followed Tikki out of the office and their excited chatter faded off into the distance.
Felix cast a glance over his shoulder and shook his head, turning back to his computer with a conceited grin on his face.
0000
Adrien's POV
A black Jaguar F-type sat in the parking lot of a Parisian university on Monday evening. It was in the faculty parking looking as suspicious as the car was pretentious. Adrien sat behind the wheel, concealed by the tinted windows, glowering at the university building like it personally offended him. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was getting impatient, having already waited over an hour.
His phone buzzed with another text message, a quick glance confirmed it was just Plagg. Adrien ignored it, assuming his partner just wanted to remind him how stupid he was acting.
Which Plagg was right. He was acting really stupid. Adrien didn't want to admit it.
It's not like Marinette was the first girl he ever tried to woo. Adrien was pushing thirty and had several notches on his belt; it came with being a fashion model, and the face of Gabriel fashion industries. Women practically threw themselves at him. But this was his first time romancing a woman while in the mask. It was risky, and stupid, and everything Plagg scolded him about on a near daily basis. It was also one hell of a challenge.
A flash of copper hair caught his attention and Adrien fixed his stare on the tall professor stepping out of the university.
Nathaniel Kurtzberg. Plagg had to do some digging to find out information on this guy. Apparently, he kept a low profile and it had taken a considerable amount of effort to track him down. Especially since they only had a first name to work from.
He stepped out of his car and made to approach the man. Then sucked in a breath and tried to channel every ounce of menacing and intimidating that coursed through his blood. Adrien had to adjust his steps when he realized he'd fallen into a model's strut, which was his go-to for confident walks, but was nowhere near intimidating and more sultry if anything else. Not what he was going for. He tried to stomp his feet more and make his steps deliberate to compensate.
Nathaniel saw him well before the blonde reached him, and stopped at the edge of the parking lot to give him a curious look.
Adrien pierced his face with the hardest look he could muster and stalked right up to the professor. He stopped just a few feet from Nathaniel and looked up, and up, and for the first time realized this man was taller than he was. Adrien steeled himself, not really certain how these sorts of confrontations were supposed to go because he didn't do this kind of thing. He dug around in his vast knowledge of cinema and graphic novels for aid and attempted to come up with something.
Back off, she's mine. Nope too possessive and incredibly cliché.
I saw her first. Not true according to Nathaniel's history, also too juvenile.
Stay away from her or I'll beat the hell out of you. Adrien doubted he could follow through with that threat even if he managed to make it sound convincing.
He noted the way Nathaniel squirmed in discomfort, looking about ready to bolt, and Adrien realized he'd been fixing the man with a death glare this entire time without saying a word. He must've looked like a crazy person, a very sharply dressed one with coiffed hair.
"What's your interest in her?" He'd been so ready to start off with a threat that his question spilled out like an interrogation and caused Nathaniel to stumble back a bit.
"W-who?"
"Miss Dupain-Cheng. Are you seeing her?" It wasn't the direction Adrien intended to take but now that he started he decided to roll with it. He took another step towards the university professor and set his jaw.
"I'm not seeing Marinette!" Nathaniel defended quickly still looking very uncomfortable.
"Bullshit!" Adrien snarled. "You were out with her on Friday!" Nathaniel visibly cowered from his outburst and it made the blonde feel like total scum. This man wasn't a threat; he was confused and scared, and kinda pathetic. He back pedaled before he even realized it. "I mean, you were with her on Friday and I just assumed you two were… You aren't seeing her?" His last question sounded more like a strangled plea. All the jealousy and anger he'd worked so hard to build and feed from sort of fizzled out like a candle in the rain. Hope rushed to fill the void left by the absence of the dowsed negative emotions.
I suck at this, he criticized himself. Scale rooftops, break into secured buildings and make a nuisance of himself, no sweat. Conduct himself in a sane way around real people in a non-professional setting, a setting that wasn't fake as hell and contrived for the sake of money, mission impossible.
"I swear I'm not seeing Marinette," asserted Nathaniel. "We're old friends."
Those words caused Adrien to slump visibly, every muscle in his body relaxing from their tense state. Great, now I feel like a dick. He eased back when he realized he was standing a bit too close to Nathaniel than was acceptably comfortable.
The setting sun hit the hazel trees around them; long shadows stretched across the lot making Adrien feel a little more at home. Every so often a professor would pass them by and shoot curious looks in their direction.
"I think I owe you an apology," started Adrien and ran his shoe over the rough surface of the concrete. "I-I'm not usually like this." Why the hell am I like this? He tried to remind himself that in two months he would be in Barcelona and nothing in Paris would matter anymore. Nothing. It was the reason Plagg kept saying he was stupid. It was also the reason Plagg kept scolding him for stalking the curator. Telling him he would get attached; that this was becoming more than just a game.
Adrien couldn't afford for this to become more than a game.
This whole thing has been nothing but an impulsive mess.
"I used to be in love with her too."
Adrien snapped out of his self-criticism and stared at Nathaniel.
The professor fidgeted nervously from his blurted confession but pressed forth anyway. "I had the biggest crush on her back in high school."
"What happened?" Adrien settled himself against someone's car, curiosity overpowering any traces of reason. He hoped to God that Nathaniel didn't notice the fluidity of his movements, and that the car alarm should have gone off had any normal person rested against it.
"I was a big coward, and she was way out of my league. No matter how I tried to get her to notice me she seemed to dance away just out of reach."
Adrien smirked and had to stifle a chuckle. Not because he found Nathaniel's predicament amusing but because it was so like his own. Every time he took a step, Marinette took two steps back.
Nathaniel scowled, taking Adrien's reaction the wrong way.
"I'm not laughing at you. Just myself," amended the blonde. "I'm having a similar problem actually."
Nathaniel's expression dissolved into a look of empathy. "She won't notice you either? Somehow I find that hard to believe." His eyes raked over Adrien's appearance with disbelief, a hint of jealousy, and he cocked his head to the side.
Adrien frowned under an arched brow, feeling a little irritated that he was being pegged for his looks. "What? Because I'm a model? That hasn't impressed her much."
"I guess it wouldn't." Nathaniel tried to look apologetic, but Adrien doubted the sincerity. "I just figured you would have had better luck than me."
"She won't even stick around to talk to me. It's like I scare her or something." He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants hard enough to jam his pinky and had to suppress a pained wince. A quick inspection of his right hand had him mentally cursing himself. He couldn't bend the finger without feeling pain, which meant it was going to swell. Plagg was going to chew him out. "You don't seem to have the same problem."
"Maybe she finds you intimidating? How do you know each other anyway?"
A hundred memories flickered through Adrien's head like some confused black and white movie.
She almost tackled me outside her museum, and I thought she was strange and felt sorry for her when she stared at me for five minutes and bolted like I bit her.
She scared the shit out of me when I broke into said museum and she seemed to know exactly where I was at, and nearly caught me.
She hit me with a rock. When I awoke I was restrained to a cabinet in a knot even I couldn't get out of.
Then she let me go.
I tried to talk to her without my mask, and she ran off on me. So, I put on my mask and chased after her like some sort of depraved moron.
I kissed her and only stole her choker charm as an excuse for why I did it.
I walked her home in a rain storm because I couldn't convince myself to stay the hell away from her.
I thought I'd finally gotten my shit together and was prepared to leave her alone, but then she went and left me a thermos of coffee, and my resolve crumbled like a wall made of sand.
"I see her at the museum," Adrien explained then picked his brain for an explanation as to what someone like him would be doing hanging around a museum that often. Chloe was like him, she was sort of a friend. What did she do with museums? "I was thinking about sponsoring it." Damn, hell, damn! Damn it all to hell. It sounded like a perfectly legit reason until he said it out loud and realized his mistake.
Of course, Nathaniel looked impressed.
Adrien just died a little inside.
Plagg was really going to murder him now. To avoid suspicion he was going to have to sponsor the very same museum he intended to rob. It's not that he couldn't afford it, but the irony was like a knife stabbing him through the gut.
The sun sank behind the university building and the parking area got a lot darker, muting the blonde and copper tones of both men's hair. Several more professors passed them by, also giving Nathaniel and Adrien inquisitive looks. A couple of students even passed by and let out excited squeals at the sight of a model on campus. This was attention Adrien had long since learned to tune out, but given Nathaniel's rigid posture it was clearly something new for him.
"Do you think she'll like it?" Adrien hedged and adjusted his position against the car.
Nathaniel jumped, tearing his attention away from the squealing students and pinning it back on the blonde man. His stare was dark, made darker by the fringe of hair covering half of his face. "Wait, are you sponsoring because you want to, or because you're trying to impress Marinette?"
"…Both?" Adrien adopted a sheepish expression. Most women liked money, and gifts, and extravagant gestures. Except he'd already tried that with Marinette, leaving all kinds of gifts in her office, and she had yet to warm up to him. It was his usual solution to throw more money at the problem.
Nathaniel buried his face in his left hand and clutched his laptop bag with the other. "You need help," he groaned.
"You know what, I'll just figure it out." Adrien barked, starting to feel like an even bigger idiot than Plagg already swore he was. He pulled away from the car, making certain not to jar it at all, and turned on his heel ready to march back to his Jaguar.
A thin bony hand came down on his shoulder and halted him mid step.
"I'll help you."
"What?" He jerked his head around just as the red-head pulled his hand away.
"I'll help you with Marinette," Nathaniel clarified.
Adrien eyed him up and down with suspicion. "…why?" he finally asked.
"Because you need it, and I feel sorry for you. If all else fails, you can join me in the friend zone. We have cookies," he added the last part with a dry laugh.
Despite just being told he was pitied, Adrien couldn't help but crack a bit of a smile. He shoved his hand out to the professor and said, "Adrien Agreste, though I should have introduced myself sooner."
"I know who you are," sassed Nathaniel. "And you were a little busy trying to be the bigger dick, so I'll let your lack of etiquette slide." He grabbed Adrien's hand and shook it giving him a wry smile in return. "Nathaniel Kurtzberg, but I assume you already knew."
When Adrien pulled his hand back he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.
Nathaniel hesitated, his eyes making a pass over the darkened lot before coming back to Adrien. "Do you like video game music?" He looked like he expected the blonde to scoff and say no.
"Yeah."
The red-head couldn't have looked more surprised. "There's a pub near my place and they have a band playing tonight. They play a lot of covers for popular video games. I figure we could have a few drinks and discuss exactly what you're doing wrong with Marinette." The invitation was forced and Nathaniel looked just as awkward as he sounded. Adrien could tell he wasn't the social type and was struggling just to spit it out.
"Should I be concerned that my advice is coming from someone who already failed with her?"
Nathaniel threw his hands up in mock offense. "Take it or leave it."
"Fine, fine," Adrien yielded. "You lead the way, and I'll follow."
"Speaking of," cut the red-head. "Is that your jaguar over there?" He nodded in the direction of the black F-type.
"Yeah. Why?"
Nathaniel only whistled and turned away. His feet made scraping sounds against the concrete and Adrien noted that he didn't pick up his feet. He watched the professor shake his head and pick his way through the parking lot towards a much humbler vehicle.
0000
Marinette's POV
The weekend passed without any sign of the pesky cat burglar. When Monday came and went and she still hadn't seen evidence of him in the museum, Marinette started to get suspicious.
Either their new security was doing its job and keeping him out, or Chat Noir was up to something. She refused to believe he decided to leave her and her museum alone, and part of her doubted that the security had anything to do with his absence.
Which meant Chat was up to something.
Chloe had her interview on Tuesday night. The interview she insisted upon to make amends for Marinette's behavior at her party weeks prior. Alya conducted the whole thing in the lobby of Le Grande Paris Hotel, and Chloe did ninety percent of the talking, which left Marinette rather bored and feeling unnecessary. But she put up with it for the sake of her job, Tikki was counting on her.
Normally she never dealt with the sponsors. As director and owner of the museum, Tikki usually dealt with them, and it was Marinette's job to organize and run the exhibits. But Tikki was training her, which meant easing her into the responsibilities of a director. Of all the sponsors Marinette could've been eased into, she had to question why her boss started with Chloe.
Fortunately, the night concluded with a pleased and flattered Miss Bourgeois. Alya wasn't too pissed about being coerced into the interview, and Marinette hadn't been smothered to death by their sponsor's massive ego. It was a win-win-win.
So, when Marinette retrieved her yellow Fiat Panda from the valet at the hotel she was in an unusually good mood. She pulled away from the hotel and started for home, slipping her phone out to shoot a voice text to her assistant and break the good news.
It was already late, sections of Paris alive and lit up because they never slept, while other parts were dark and closed for the night. Without thinking about it she turned off a busier street and into a quieter set. It wasn't her usual route home, and Marinette couldn't pin point what prompted her to take the road in the first place. Several darkened restaurants stood off to her right, and a closed shopping strip took up the left. There were a few cars parked here and there along the street but the area was deserted of people.
A feeling akin to an icy-hot patch crawled along the back of her spine, and pooled in the base of her skull, and then she knew.
Marinette slammed her brakes so hard her seat-belt locked up and choked her. It took her seconds to pick out a suspicious black car parked outside one of the local shops. It was the only car in the whole area that was as ostentatious as he was. Black, convertible, two-seater, and it was a Jaguar, because of course it was.
At least it fit with the rest of his modus operandi.
The windows on the Jaguar were tinted so she couldn't tell if anyone was in the car or not. She assumed he must be, because why else would she feel his presence. Marinette eased her Panda a little closer, as if the little yellow hybrid could to sneak up on the expensive sports car. She was about to hit the brakes again when the Jaguar suddenly roared to life and peeled away from the curb like a demon.
Tires squealed and jerked against the dated cobblestone street, then the black car shot off like an arrow.
Marinette slammed her foot against the gas pedal on her Panda and with a much less spectacular roar, that was more akin to a grumble, it gave chase. Her Panda was the Cross model, powerful for a city car, but still just a city car. It struggled to keep up with the Jaguar in front of her, and that was made even more difficult when it weaved through bits of traffic and took sharp corners.
Determined Marinette followed suit, weaving her own car through the traffic and skidding around corners after him. The jaguar screeched around a roundabout before cutting over a curb and darting into an alley. She blessed her all-wheel drive and took the roundabout a little rougher, crunching painfully over the curb. The yellow panda tore into the alley with grace akin to the animal it was named after, and she caught sight of the Jaguar taking a left onto a more open road.
The chase continued over a bridge, through a deserted parking garage, and into and office district before Marinette realized the Jaguar was toying with her. Several times she almost caught up with it, only for the sports car to pull away with superior speed and handling. The driver was obviously dancing just out of her reach, making a game of it just to tease her.
She followed the Jaguar through another alley and watched it get hung up at the red light of an intersection. The blinker indicated it was going left so Marinette took this opportunity to zoom down a different alley and attempt to cut him off on the next street.
She bumped around for a bit, mowed over a garbage can and took a sharp turn that was a little too tight for comfort. The Panda rolled out of the alley just in time to cut in front of the Jaguar, and the black sports car keened like a feline, stopping just inches from hitting her.
She had to catch her breath, and make sure her heart hadn't stopped. Marinette's chest ached from the seat belt digging into her chest, and her hands were shaking from the nearly avoided collision. The driver in the Jaguar didn't seem to be nearly as affected, the car roared into reverse and back off before jerking back into drive and taking over a curb to get around her.
Marinette released a frustrated growl and attempted to give chase once more, but the adrenaline was starting to get to her and the thrill had died a little after that close call. She lost the Jaguar after a couple more streets and didn't catch sight of it again.
She eased the Panda to a stop outside of a postal office and drew in a shuddering breath.
That was Chat Noir. I know it was him.
For the life of her she couldn't explain why she decided to chase after him. It was impulsive and insane, and crazy… and fun. Marinette pondered why he was sitting in that shopping district, and if she intruded upon some illicit activity he'd been up to. It must not have been too important if he felt the need to indulge a car chase with her around a quarter of Paris.
Her forehead touched down against the steering wheel, the cool material restoring a bit of clarity to her mind. One controlled breath after another brought relief to her nerves, trying to come down from the adrenaline high before starting back home. Her eyes were shut and she was so focused on calming down that she mistook the heated feeling on the back of her neck as part of her high.
Rrrrvvvvvrruuuuuuummmmbbbbb!
The roar of an engine revving behind her caused Marinette to scream and shoot upright in her seat. She snapped her head back just in time to see the black Jaguar flash its headlights at her before pulling around her Panda and shooting off down the street, disappearing around a corner for good this time.
When she recovered from the sudden fright she felt a surge of anger and frustration.
"Go to hell you nasty cat!" The screamed insult was for her benefit only, as no one was around to hear it. Then she buried her face against the steering wheel and began laughing despite herself.
Marinette laughed until her throat hurt and tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She laughed until the shock of being startled wore off. When the car finally fell into silence she just stared into her lap and tried to deny the intrusive feelings that began to take root in her chest.
"He's a thief, Mari," she reminded herself. "He intends to rob your museum."
She had to repeat it to herself three more times on her way home.
In case anyone was curious, Felix's last name, Yersinia, is the name of the pestis that caused three of the most deadly plagues in history, including the Black Plague. The pestis was named after a man called Yersin who discovered the y pestis. I'll let you all figure the rest out from there.
Adrien's POV was fracking hell to write. but it was necessary.
Review with your thoughts and feelings, your feedback helps give me ideas and things to consider. It also makes my day and is incredibly inspiring.