"I am beat..." Ladybug said as she waved a red lace fan towards her neck. Chat Noir loosened his bow tie in agreement.
Outside on the marble terrace was a lovely breeze and the pale moonlight, two welcoming attributes the duo superhero team desperately needed right now. Inside the mansion, dozens of civilians waltzed the night away. The Mayor was kind enough to plan this event. He had in mind a quiet celebration, and a public thank you for the two heroes. It started off slow and then turned into a rich people meet-and-greet, but it was a lovely thought nonetheless.
Chat Noir pulled at his white shirt and tux collar with a single claw. It was really hot in there. The hosts didn't even bother to open windows, which was suicide; especially when everyone is dressed up in tuxedos and ankle length dresses. Air-Conditioning was doing jack in a room that big. Outside, however, was cool and calm. They leant up against the marble balustrade and revelled in the chilly midnight wind.
She rolled her head over her shoulder and looked at Chat Noir, they exchanged a hearty chuckle. Both of them had the same idea of excusing themselves from their dancing partners mid-waltz and journeying out to the terrace for a breather.
"So..." Chat started, "a Ball held in our honour, huh?"
"Well, if I'm being honest, it was just an excuse to get you in a tuxedo." She eyed the masked hero over, "Dang, you really wear that suit don't you?"
Chat let out a laugh. He slipped his thumbs under the suit's lapels and pushed off the marble balustrade, modelling off the tailorship with a spin on the heel. She let out a laugh and covered her lips with the tip of her fan.
He bowed low and swept his hand beside his waist, "May I suggest M'Lady, that we have a dance?"
"A dance you say?" she tapped her chin with the fan and smiled, "What dance did you have in mind?"
He straightened and looked deep into her eyes. They both knew exactly what he meant. They opened their mouths and confirmed their shared thoughts.
"Food..." they said simultaneously.
"Yep, I am starving..." she said nodding.
"They barely had any Hors d'oeuvres in there!" he replied, throwing his hands in the air and giving the room of people a harsh look.
"We really need to eat something."
"I suggest Takeout, M'Lady."
"Takeout? Are you serious?"
"Of course! I know a nice quiet place that serves the choicest of Chinese dumplings."
She cocked her head and let out a snort of breath, smiling at his enthusiasm, but raising a suspicious eyebrow. "You want to eat Chinese dumplings in a three-thousand-dollar tuxedo?"
"Hey, hey, hey," he said holding a hand out to stop her, "these dumplings may the best in France, but they aren't going to be wearing a tuxedo, okay?"