A/N:
Adrien: This year, I lost my dear mother.
Mama Agreste: Quit telling everyone I'm missing!
Adrien: Sometimes, I can still hear her voice.
Sorry, I just always wanted to tell that joke xD Also, I did some exploring on the internet, and found that On The Prowl got recommended on tvtropes! Thank you Melody Rose Gold for recommending it :D
Chapter 10
When Adrien woke in the morning, he was reminded by last night's activities by a burning pain in his lower left side, causing him to grimace.
With a groan, he hauled himself into a sitting position. He trailed a hand down his face tiredly.
School was going to be hard enough as it was. Just his luck he'd have a photo shoot right after to go to, which would probably last a few hours. He wouldn't be able to get to bed until later that night.
Hawk Moth took pity on him and gave him a few days off to recuperate. Despite being a crime lord, he had a heart and occasionally used it.
Or it might be because he'd be losing a lot of money if his best criminal keeled over.
He scoffed in amusement as he sat up, lips tugging down as the pain worsened in the movement.
It would be anyone's guess as to why Hawk Moth gave him a few days off.
When he made it at school, he made sure to hurry out of the limo like he did on any normal day so as to not raise suspicion about his injury. His father would ban him from the outside world and probably put iron bars outside his windows to keep him inside.
Obviously, he couldn't afford for that to happen. Although, with his father's idea of trapping him, would Hawk Moth even find a way to break in and kill him?
Yes. He would.
Adrien held back a wince as he started up the school steps. He schooled his features into a smile when he managed to meet up with Nino.
"Hey, bro!" Nino greeted cheerfully, holding out a fist to bump. Adrien took the cue and completed the ritual. Afterwards, instead of going right into a story about some music artist, Nino actually frowned.
"You okay? You look a little pale."
The blond plastered on a smile to appease his friend's worries. "I'm fine, Nino. Never better."
Nino retained the skeptical look but let the issue go, diving right back into the story. The pair continued like this until they made their way to their class, with Nino saying something to make the blond laugh, momentarily making him forget about his injury.
It came back in full force as he shook in laughter, irritating the wound. But he still forced the smile on his face, he didn't want Nino to get suspicious.
He walked to his desk like on any other day, but grimaced when he realized how hard it would be to maneuver himself into the seat. This day was going to be torture, he should've just stayed home and claimed he had a fever.
Nah. Nathalie wouldn't have believed that bullshit.
When he eased himself down into the seat, he heard Nino ask if he was okay again.
Well, he couldn't really say he was completely fine now. He had to tell Nino something.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just hurt my leg in fencing yesterday," he lied. He didn't need to know he didn't even have fencing the day before.
He frowned. "That sucks."
"Yeah, it does," he agreed with a chuckle. Remembering just who was behind him, he turned around to face the girls.
"Morning, Alya," he greeted as per usual. His smile widened as he glanced at the next girl. "Hi, Marinette!"
A smile lit up her face, making him melt. "Hi, Adrien! I c-couldn't help but overhear earlier...I-I hope your leg gets b-better soon."
He smiled at her concern, also noticing how her cheeks colored into that lovely shade of pink.
He grinned. "Thank you, Marinette. Me too."
...
Thankfully, Adrien's stab wound seemed to be getting better and better everyday. As the pain lessened, he found it was getting easier to function normally. He wasn't limping as much, and sitting down became an easier task.
He estimated he could remove the stitches very soon, but was willing to try his luck back out on the field again. On Friday night he decided to go back to the same jewelry store he got stabbed at and got the job done. Remembering the promise he made to Marinette, he made sure to tread carefully and look for the first sign of danger.
Nothing happened and so he was able to bring the jewelry back to Hawk Moth, both to finish the original task and to make up for his mini vacation. His boss was pleased and told him to not be shy about robbing another store sometime soon.
And now, on this sunny afternoon, Chat Noir found himself slinking across the rooftops to a certain raven-haired girl's balcony. He hadn't visited her since the incident and was itching to do so, especially since his interaction with her at school was very limited.
When he got to the familiar place he grinned and tapped on the trapdoor with his claws. All he got in response was some muffled cursing and complaining. She was obviously miffed about something.
Curious, he opened it and poked his head through. Marinette was pacing back and forth in her room, grumbling incoherantly. He silently dropped down onto her bed, pausing only when she growled the first intelligble thing she said.
"If his stitches come undone, I'm not fixing him!"
Ah, so she was mad at him. He almost scoffed in amusement. Typical.
"Looks like the Princess has some claws of her own," he spoke smoothly, deciding that then would be a good time to reveal himself.
He snickered quietly when she shrieked in surprise, turning around to glare at him. He took the dirty look in stride with a smug grin, walking down the staircase before perching himself on her chaise lounge.
Marinette's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "What are you doing?! It's daylight, and you're committing crime when it's only been four days since you were stabbed. What the hell is wrong with you?"
He chuckled, fully touched that she was so concerned about him, and how she executed her show of care.
"Relax, Princess. I made sure to hide myself well when coming here. As for my stab wound, it's feline better. In fact, I think I can remove the stitches soon. So no need to get your panties in a twist." He winked cheekily at her, only causing her to huff in annoyance and turn away from him.
He frowned. Was she really that worked up over him?
"Really, Marinette. I'm feeling better," he gently reassured. "And even at the store I made sure no one else was there. If there was I would've," he stopped, the corners of his mouth beginning to twitch as he thought of a pun.
Be serious, Chat, be serious. Don't crack a pun now...aw, screw it.
"...high-tailed it out of there, just to be safe. You have nothing to worry about."
"I'm not worried," she replied flippantly. The edges of her lips were tugged down as she regarded him, taking on a look of complete indifference. "I don't care."
Oh, is that so?
"I seem to remember you telling me you didn't want me to be hurt? To be more careful?" He inquired lightly, barely being able to suppress a smirk. He eyed her with sadistic delight. "I think you do care."
She didn't answer him, only turning away from him again.
"Princess," he called, standing. "I know you care. It's okay, I care about you, too." He grinned.
The blackette made a strangled noise that resembled a growl and stalked off to her computer. He laughed at the pout on her face he could see when she sat down.
While she did whatever on the computer, Chat resolved to let himself relax. He snuggled deeper into the plush chaise, lightly sighing. It was rare he ever got a moment to truly relax. He was always either on his way to some type of appointment, in school, or watching his back for police and sometimes other criminals. It felt good to unwind.
He lazily opened one, green eye to look at the owner of comfortable chaise. His eyebrows lowered as he took in her pale face, paler than what was normal, anyway.
"Princess? What is it?"
"Two guys are robbing a bank," she replied, a little breathless in her shock.
His confusion grew at that statement. Why was she so surprised about this everyday crime? He chose to get up and shuffle closer to her, bending his head to her shoulder to read the article.
Two guys robbing a bank took some hostages. That was pretty much it.
He hummed when he read it, but his questions still weren't answered. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
"Why are you so surprised? These things happen."
Her chair turned and she gave him a stern look. "This doesn't happen everyday, Chat. Normally they'll go in, get the money, and leave, not take people for hostages."
Hm. She had a point there, hostages were more of an uncommon case.
"This is why it's better to perform at night, so that you don't have to deal with all the unnecessary hassle of people. Looks to me like these guys are amateurs."
He scoffed in scorn. How could they be so dumb? If you make a big commotion, you're going to get caught. Did these idiots want to go to jail?
"Some people just shouldn't be criminals, it makes the rest of us look bad."
"Are you seriously worried about your ego right now?" Marinette snapped incredulously.
"No, it's already pretty well stroked." He smirked and rubbed a hand against his chest. "Paris's number one criminal, remember?"
The reputation of being the best lawbreaker and having the priviledge of being around Marinette Dupain-Cheng?
He couldn't help but have a big ego.
She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the computer screen. He took his time back to the chaise and settled back into it, waiting until she finished her business. He closed his eyes as he waited, smiling at the comfort the piece of furniture provided.
"Chat?" He heard her ask tentively.
He opened an eye, indicating that he heard her while a corner of his mouth turned up. "Yes, Princess?"
"You did say you were feeling better, right?"
He grinned. She was so cute when she cared. "I'm feline purretty well."
Marinette frowned, piquing Chat's interest. It was all too soon when her eyes seemed to gleam in determination.
"Could you go help the hostages? The men said they'll be killed if the police don't leave in ten minutes."
...What? Was she serious?
He sat up, eyes wide and unblinking in his astonishment. "I'm a villian, not a hero, Princess. I don't save the day."
Did she seriously expect him to help? He was the bad guy, not the good guy!
"You're the only one who could sneak in there and help. Please, Chat, people can die!" She pleaded.
He faltered at the vulnerable, begging look in her eyes. Maybe-
No. He was a criminal, not a hero. He doesn't save people.
He shrugged his shoulders. "People die everyday." The words left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Chat!"
"Marinette, I'm a criminal. I'm no hero, I'm not helping."
"Please, Chat! What if it was me in there?"
He glared at her. She knew he'd have a completely different answer to that, she knew he wouldn't hesitate to come to her rescue.
"That'd be different."
"How different?" She demanded.
"Because I care about you. I told you before I could give two shits about anyone else. Why do you want me to go help so bad, anyway?" He replied bluntly.
"Because they're innocent people! And now they could have their lives taken away all because of money. I know you're not a hero, but..." She trailed off, hanging down her head.
Chat Noir frowned at the tears leaking out of her eyes. He crossed his arms, his mouth thinned into a tight line. She cared so much about people she didn't even know. She really was too good for this world.
He knew she would never forgive him if he didn't save those hostages.
Besides, it pained him to see her in this kind of state. It was even worse that he was mostly the cause for it.
His reputation would be put on the line...but he'd risk it for her.
Although, why not try to get a little reward out of this? After all, she was asking a lot from a criminal.
"...I'll help."
Her head whipped up to face him so fast, he was honestly surprised she didn't get whiplash.
He held up a clawed finger. "On one condition."
She quickly nodded. "Anything!"
The edges of his mouth curved up at what exactly he wanted, and at the thought of getting it. Of course, he couldn't exactly tell her what it was.
"I want the value of all the banks in Paris."
Her jaw dropped, effectively amusing him. "H-How...?!"
"Clock's ticking, Princess," he sing-songed. "This offer won't be on the table for long."
She bit her lip, her eyes strayed to a spot on the floor in hurried thought.
At last, she uttered the three magic words. "Okay. I accept."
The smirk curled deeper on his face. By the end of the night, he'd be getting what he'd been dreaming about for three years. That is, of course, she was willing. He'd never force her.
"Excellent. I'll be back later, Princess."
He rushed over to her to take her hand and give it a kiss in parting. After that, he raced back up the staircase and heaved himself out of the trapdoor, knowing he didn't have much time left until the men killed the hostages.
Good thing he was fast.
He vaulted across the rooftops, not caring if anyone might have happened to see him. Even if they had, he was merely a black blur moving through the sky. They'd question their intelligence and move on with their day.
When he got near the bank, he crouched low on a nearby rooftop, away from prying eyes. He grit his teeth as he took in the barrage of police cars, the few snipers on other roofs, the sirens, and the occasional demands sounding through a megaphone.
Chat Noir hissed in aggravation. Getting in was surely going to prove to be a challenge, and he had no experience sneaking in like this.
Sneaking in during the night with nobody around with only the cameras and alarms? No problem.
Sneak in on a spur of the moment decision with no police around like at the museum? Not very smart, but possible.
If one person saw him, he was done for. He'd have to be quick to detain him in order for the person to not alert the others of his presence.
Damn.
"Release the hostages!" The policeman screamed through his megaphone, the words clearly audible to Chat.
He had to strain his hearing to understand the reply.
Four minutes.
Great. Four minutes to sneak in a place that was literally crawling with policemen on the outside.
Welp. Better get this started. He wanted that kiss and was fully prepared to work for it.
He trailed along the outer edges of the bank, always out of sight of the stray snipers. He eventually made it to the very back of the bank, a side that remained unguarded.
He grinned. It was an idiotic move on their part, but a godsend to him.
He used his baton to help him get to the window high above the ground. It seemed it was left open especially for him, usually black cats never have this kind of luck. The room was empty, so he crept down a few floors until making it to the main one.
As he came upon the scene, the first thing he noticed were two men holding gun standing guard over the hostages who were behind the bank tellars. Their backs were turned away from them to watch the two other men talk and/or scream at the police.
A woman, who looked to be in her mid-30's, opened her mouth when she saw the feline criminal. Whether she planned to unleash a gasp or a scream he didn't know, but either noise would've attracted attention.
He hurriedly slammed a finger against his lips in the universal sign to be silent.
Her eyebrows furrowed, confused.
The hostage next to her, a man who looked to be a few years older than her, also took notice of him. He, too, opened his mouth, but Chat once again put his finger against his lips and shook his head.
The two looked to each other with disbelief written on their faces. Dare they think that Chat Noir was going to rescue them?
He returned his attention to the two men, wondering how he could get them out of the way in the quickest way possible.
"Two minutes!" One man at the front screamed. "And then we'll blow their brains out!"
The hostages' heads snapped up at that, all began to shiver in fear. Some even had tears in their eyes.
But as soon as they heads were up, that let them have the perfect view of Chat on the staircase. Biting his lip in panic, he made the motion to be quiet again and furiously shook his head. He didn't need one of these idiots to blow his cover.
Thankfully, they all seemed to understand.
"That's it! I'm going to kill every-"
"Ahhh!"
He growled in aggravation.
All seemed to understand, except one stupid guy.
At once all four men spun around, allowing Chat to identify them.
As their eyes widened, Chat's narrowed.
Those bastards from the jewelry store. He felt his side throb at the memory of it.
"I thought you were dead!" One called out in surprise, coincidentally the one who stabbed him.
Chat took out his baton and extended it, then drapped it across his shoulders. The picture of casual, yet ready for fighting for when he should need it.
"Yes, well, here's a tip for murdering. Make sure you actually kill the guy before leaving him."
He took hold of the baton in his right hand, gripping it tightly. "Although, this time you won't be able to stab me again. I'll make sure to watch my back."
All four robbers' eyes glinted in amusement. All four raised their arms, along with their guns.
As soon as the shots rang out, Chat started spinning his weapon in front of him, the baton acting as a shield. The hostages screamed in fear as the bullets ricocheted off the metal, flying in different directions. They cowered down on the floor, covering their heads with their hands.
They kept shooting until their ammo ran out, stubbornly trying to kill the skillful cat. As they paused to get more bullets, Chat Noir struck on the first man in pouncing range, bringing him to the ground and slamming his baton into the back of his head.
The man instantly went limp. He'd wake up later to a nasty headache and a jail cell.
He turned and went for the next one, with him falling to the same fate.
He turned, seeing the other two were ready and had their guns drawn on him. Chat slowly stood from his crouched position and tightly gripped his baton.
His lips curved up, changing the tight line to a bittersweet grin.
"I've been waiting to sink my claws into you, after you inconvenienced me."
The barb sunk into its intended targets, the men glared and growled at the young criminal. To call their stabbing him and taking the robbery from him a minor inconvenience, they couldn't help but feel stung.
"Trust us," the one on the right began, the so-called leader, if Chat remembered correctly, began. "After we're done with you, you won't be inconvenienced anymore."
The man on the left reached into his back pocked and pulled out the familiar knife. Chat's eyes zeroed in on it, he instinctively stiffened at the sight of the gleaming weapon.
"And once again I'll have to clean your blood off it. Shame, it seems I can never keep a knife clean for long." He grinned savagely.
Chat clenched his teeth.
The leader fired the gun, prompting Chat to spin his baton and deflect the bullets. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed his friend running around, trying to get him from behind.
Chat ran forward, baton still wildy spinning in his palms, eager to get to the leader so he could take out the other guy. The leader's eyes grew wide at this, before they narrowed and hardened in stubborness and anger as he fired off more shots. He even tried shooting for his feet, but that didn't work. Chat's footfalls were too quick.
Shooting a quick glance behind him, Chat saw his buddy running right behind him, knife at the ready.
He scowled. Marinette would not be patching him up again, he promised to be more careful and to not get hurt, and it was a promise he intended to keep.
He quickly ducked low and swiped his baton into the shooter's feet, causing him to lose his footing and collapse on the ground. Chat drew down the baton on his head and backed away, just as the knife-wielder came upon him and tried to attack him.
Three down, one to go.
"Trying to hit me from behind again? A little cowardly, no?" Chat Noir remarked dryly, leaning on his staff. He idly wondered why the man wasn't using the gun he had earlier. Either he ran out of ammo, or wanted to paint knife with Chat's blood.
He would be disgusted, but then he remembered the gorey things he wanted to do to Jared and Kim, so let the thought pass.
The man shrugged and smirked. "Anything to win a fight. Now, let's get this over with. I still need the money and I'm sure the police aren't going to wait any longer to barge in here."
Chat nodded and took hold of his staff. The two came at each other, charging.
He swiped with the knife, but Chat successfully dodged and tried to land a hit with his baton. Unfortunately, he sidestepped out of the way.
The next time the two came at each other, Chat faked a swing to the left before quickly changing course and going to the right. The man didn't expect this and was immediately thrown off his feet.
The black cat's neutral expression didn't waver as he lifted his boot and stepped on the wrist whose hand was holding the weapon. He increased the pressure, and didn't stop until a satisfying crunch was heard, along with the man's cry of pain.
The blond leaned down toward his face, regarding him with a sneer. "You think that was painful? Getting slashed by that knife of yours and getting homemade stitches was that pain, times a hundred. Makes me wonder if I should break other bones, until I could be sure you feel what I have felt."
The man had the audacity to shiver in fear.
But Chat clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"Fortunately for you, there's a lovely girl who would never forgive me if she learned I did something like that to you. You should thank your lucky stars that she has such a kind heart."
The man blinked, apparently taken aback by this claim.
Chat wasted no more time and bashed him on the head, knocking him out cold. Glancing around, he noticed some decorative ribbon hung along the counters, and a bright grin reached his lips.
...
Chat dusted his hands clean as he admired his handiwork. The four goons were wrapped inside the ribbon, and he even finished off the knot into a bow! Marinette would be proud.
"Th-Thank you, Chat Noir," a newly-freed woman said with gratitude lacing her voice, yet still having undertones of caution. Chat may have saved them, but he was no hero.
"You're welcome," he replied. nodding. "Now listen to me, all of you."
The ex-hostages stared solemnly back at him.
"Do not tell anyone that I rescued you. If I hear about it, I won't hesitate to sink my claws in you. Got it?"
The people nervously nodded.
"Good. Now get out of here."
...
Chat resolved to return at around 11:00. It was the perfect time for a nightly rendezvous, and he wanted the atmosphere to be perfect. Well, that is, if she let him do what he wanted to.
He tapped on her glass door and all-too-soon she opened, letting him drop down and land on all-fours.
He grinned. "I've come to collect, Princess."