Twenty-Six: Identity Crisis

Author's Note: Out and about one evening, Chat encounters an akuma and tries to tackle it on his own, with unexpected consequences Marinette has to sort out.

It took way longer than normal for me to make it to the Bakery. Once I finally managed to pull myself up and over the brick wall I normally landed upon with such aplomb, I stopped short of applauding my efforts. The chimney I would think nothing of vaulting toward now seemed light years away from me.

Option two was trying to walk across the wrought iron artwork, so I went that route, and made it barely a quarter of the way before I slipped and dropped onto the tile below in a heap of fur. I shook my mane as I pushed myself back up: generally I landed on my paws, but tonight was extraordinary in all ways.

The skylight was just in front of me, so I trotted over to it; opening it was now out of the question, so I simply extended my claws and scratched, trying hard not to look at my reflection in the glass. When Marinette didn't immediately appear, I scratched again, a bit more vigorously.

C'mon, c'mon! I thought, a bit frantically. You've got to be here!

Given how the evening had gone down, though, it wouldn't have surprised me if she'd been out. Fortunately, a few moments later Marinette pushed open the skylight and looked me over. "Hey, kitty," she said warmly. "Where did you come from?"

I didn't wait and leapt directly at her. To my horror, she shrieked and ducked, and I sailed right past her and into the back of the skylight, hitting it like a bad Muppet skit. My claws found no purchase on the glass, and I dropped like a rock onto her bed below, again in a heap of limbs. I tried to right myself but snagged my claws in the blanket and couldn't disentangle myself before Marinette had regained her composure and dropped in next to me.

Gently, she pulled me off the blanket and unhooked my claws. "There," she said. "I don't know where you came from, but you sure look you've had a long day. Want something to eat? Milk?"

I shook my head at her, and that made her pause.

"Tuna?"

I shook my head again.

She held me closer, and took a long hard look at me, eyes finally landing on the bell on my collar. "Belgian Chocolate croissants? And coffee?"

I nodded and started purring. That was about all I could really do, vocally, at the moment.

Marinette put me down on the bed and stroked between my ears; my purring went up a notch or two and I leaned into her hand, green eyes narrowed. Make the connection, Milady.

"Dear Lord," Marinette breathed, eyes widening. "Chat, what happened?"

There was no way I could actually tell her. Losing the ability to talk had come with the sudden transformation into a real black cat, courtesy of an akuma I'd stumbled upon after leaving the Bakery that evening. I hadn't had time to even get out a cheesy pun before it had turned some wand-like object on me; I'd tried to deflect whatever it was with the baton, but instead found myself mere centimeters from the ground and a shadow of my former self. My normal model-skinniness had morphed into an extremely svelte, and very tiny, feline.

My green eyes were carefully locked on Marinette's deep blue and I watched as she turned the situation over in her mind. "Akuma?"

I nodded.

"How far?"

I dropped off the bed and ran around the perimeter of her bedroom three times, and then stopped next to the box of wooden blocks she used when babysitting.

"Three blocks? Which way?"

I twisted my body toward the Trocadero.

"Tikki – spots on!" she said, and the red wave of transformation washed over her. A moment later, I was staring at my partner, who was pointing a gloved finger at me. "We'll discuss later why you're in trouble," she said, "but for now, stay put! I'll be back as soon as I can."

That was not what I wanted to hear, so I quickly jumped up to the bed to try and escape to the rooftop patio. Even in my pure cat form, thought, Ladybug was still faster than me and had already snapped the skylight shut. "No," she said firmly. "You can't do anything like that," she pointed out.

I mewled something awful, but she ignored me and dropped back to the floor to make sure the trapdoor was locked, and her windows secured before returning to the bed. Gently, she knocked me off the bed and then swiftly exited, ensuring the skylight had been firmly shut behind her.

I growled and leaped up the ladder to the bed again, but the skylight was totally out of reach. I was nowhere strong enough to move it anyway. In short, she'd caged me in her bedroom.

Dropping back to the floor again, I started pacing the space, restlessly worried about my partner. The entire time I had visions of her being zapped into a literal bug. She was right, it wasn't like I'd be much help anyway, but old habits died hard. I remained angry enough that I was sorely tempted to destroy something with my claws; at length, I folded myself into a cat stance atop her chaise, green eyes boring into the skylight.

Time passed slowly for me as a cat. It may have only been a few minutes, but it seemed like hours had gone by before the skylight opened again, and Marinette dropped back to the bed. Her shocked expression when she saw me on the chaise, though, spoke volumes. "You're… you're still a cat?"

Seriously? my expression said. What does it look like, Princess?

She came down the ladder and knelt. "I don't understand. Miraculous Ladybug didn't restore you!"

That made me a bit uncomfortable. Of course she would have called on her spell! I held a paw up to my face, saw it was still a real paw, and suddenly had visions of this nightmare becoming a reality. My ears flattened as I looked back at her.

"Don't worry," she said. "Let's just try this again, shall we?"

I watched as she transformed back to Ladybug, and then called up her Lucky Charm. In a burst of red and white light, a teapot dropped from the sky.

My heart sunk.

Ladybug looked at me, holding the teapot. "Well, Chat," she said, a wry smile on her face. "Want to go on a road trip?"