Fourteen: Final Fitting or Fitting Finale?

No amount of caffeine was capable of keeping me focused; about the only thing that resonated with me prior to lunch was the notable absence of Adrien. Pulling up his schedule on my tablet (yes, I found I still kept track of it), I verified he'd not had a photoshoot or some other oddball activity. Given how rarely he had been out of school, it was an oddity that required follow-up.

As we switched classes for the final period prior to lunch, I slipped into a side corridor and dug out my phone, intending to text Adrien. My eyes fell on the new lock screen of Chat, though, and with a smile, I speed-dialed him instead.

Not expecting him to pick up, I was surprised when his masked visage appeared. "Purrincess," he smiled slyly. "Can't wait until lunch, I see."

"Likewise," I laughed, "seeing as though you answered on my first ring. Are you already at the Bakery?"

"Not yet," he said, looking away for a moment. It took a second for me to realize he was perched someplace high, given how the wind was ruffling his out-of-control mane. "But I can be there in less than five minutes." Chat looked back at me, the sly expression back. "Are you planning on cutting class?"

"Absolutely not," I replied. "But I wonder if you might do me a favor."

"Anything, Mari."

"My classmate is out today and I'm a bit worried. He never misses school, ever, unless it's because his dismal excuse for a father has him out on a photo shoot."

Chat's expression shifted so quickly, I nearly missed it. "You want me to do a welfare check?" he asked jovially, face recomposed perfectly. "I can do that. Who is it?"

"Adrien Agreste? The supermodel?" I said, then gave him the address for the mansion. "If it's not too much trouble," I added.

"Not a problem at all. I'll swing by and then see you at the Bakery later." He saluted and then his image went dark.

Tapping my phone against my chin, I was reasonably sure my mentioning Adrien had triggered something for my kitty and found myself slightly worried about Chat paying him a visit; not wanting a repeat of the houseboat incident with yet another boy, I filed it away for later with the intent of setting Chat straight.

I made it through the final period prior to lunch, and in the interests of maximizing my time with Chat, I broke one of my personal rules and slipped out of class a few minutes early, dashed out the massive front doors, down the steps past the griffins and around into a side alley. Breaking another personal rule, I transformed and quickly leapt into the sky, soaring over the rooftops of Paris toward the Bakery.

Once more, I carefully avoided the rooftop patio and landed in the alley instead, dropped my transformation and slipped into the residence.

Maman was in the kitchen. "He's in your bedroom, dear," she said without turning from the counter. "I sent him up with lunch," she added as she finished chopping some carrots and slid them off the cutting board and into a waiting pot.

I kissed her on the cheek and hurried up the steps, thankful I'd not chosen the skylight for once. Chat was lounging on the chaise twirling his tail in one paw when I pushed through the trap door, one arm casually resting on his angled knee. His feline ears had clearly heard my approach, and a wide smile greeted me as I came into the room. "Purrincess."

My eyes fell on the two empty plates at his boots, then turned back toward him. "Chat—"

"On your desk," he laughed as he inclined his wild mane in that direction. "Your mother thinks I'm too skinny," he explained as I turned and saw a plate heaped with munchables waiting for me.

"You are," I agreed as I grabbed a slice of baguette that had already been buttered.

"I burn a ton of calories as Chat," he replied defensively.

"I'm sure you do," I teased. "Okay, lets get to it…"

Chat leapt off the chaise and landed behind the screen, which wasn't strictly necessary, given how his outfit for the concert had been tailored to fit over his Chat costume. I'd left it hanging for him and heard the rustle of fabric as he slid into the costume. "I swung by that Agreste kid's house like you asked," he said as he changed.

"And?"

"Nothing extraordinary – he apparently was in a hurry to get home last night and missed a step on the Metro. His father insisted he stay home to ice it and rest so he can do a photo shoot this weekend."

My impression of Adrien's father sunk lower. "Really."

Chat chuckled, a merry sound that resonated in my room and warmed my soul. "I barely know Adrien and already despise his father. He looked so bummed out about missing school, I nearly offered to break him out."

"Could you?" I asked suddenly. "Break him out?"

I wasn't certain but thought Chat suddenly swore under his breath. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," he said as he came around the screen, pulling the last arm of his outfit over his Chat costume. "He doesn't seem the type to cross his father in that manner."

I motioned for Chat to move over to the mirror as I pulled out my sewing kit. "He mentioned the other day how he was looking forward to turning eighteen," I mused as I put a hand on his shoulder and twisted him.

Chat murmured something but I was focused on how the costume-over-the-costume had fit. I'd used a stretchy Lycra-type fabric and could see it had become nearly a second skin over his Chat outfit, which was by design; Chat had insisted on complete freedom of movement, which was almost impossible using the fabric I normally worked with for the band. The shimmery gray fabric had been overprinted with a shadowy pattern, again by design, for it helped to blend away the pips and piping from his actual costume.

It didn't hurt, however, that it seemed to accentuate every curve and ripple of his toned and well-muscled body – lines that were clearly present in his normal costume but perhaps not as visible owing to the dark fabric. I caught my breath. "This might be a problem," I said quietly.

Chat looked at me with concern. "What's wrong?" he asked as he twisted away from the mirror.

"I didn't think it was possible, but this is almost more revealing than your normal outfit," I said.

"Oh," Chat said as he turned back to the mirror. I watched as the color rose a bit on his face. "I, uh, see you point," he coughed.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "Looks like you were right, black is a better color for you."

He stepped off the dais in front of the mirror and turned to me, putting a paw on my shoulder. "This will be just fine," he smiled warmly. "It'll be dark, and once you glue on your embellishments no one will give me a second look."

I reappraised his outfit and could see he had a point. "Try this, then," I said as I handed him the finished unicorn mask.

He rolled it around in his paws, arching a masked eyebrow. "This is more like a cowl," Chat observed.

"Flip it over," I said, smiling.

Chat upended it and whistled. "You embedded holes for my ears," he said appreciatively, "and I can see how you've added screening so I can still use them." He smiled wider as he pulled the cowl over his ears and settled it over his face. "You've made the eye holes wider for me, too."

"Yes," I said proudly. "I can't hide that wild mane of yours," I added, a hand reaching out to try and tuck a massive tuft of blond hair under an edge, "but I think the overall effect works."

"I agree," Chat nodded, as he took a full turn in front of the mirror. "Okay, when do you want me?"

"I have to be to the venue by eighteen-hundred," I said.

"I'll be here ahead, then," he said as he moved back behind the screen. "Once I've got this baby on, I can help you get the costumes over there if you like."

"That would be divine," I said. "I was actually going to ask Alya to help but since you're coming anyway, that works better." I paused suddenly. "Wait."

"Wait, what?" Chat replied.

"How will I introduce you?" I asked, sinking into my chair. "I never thought about that. Alya is going to want to know who you are."

His masked face poked out from behind the screen, grinning slyly. "I did warn you," he cackled.

"Not helpful," I cried, tossing a ball of yarn at him. It bounced fairly close to where I'd hit him with the yo-yo, and Chat grimaced slightly but covered it quickly.

"All right," he said, though his masked green eyes had followed the ball of yarn to where it had come to rest in the far corner of my room. "How about this. I'm a student you met last summer at that – what was that fashion boot camp you did?"

"Designer Divas and Model Dudes," I said.

"Right," he groaned. "Well, I can work with that. I was one of the 'dudes' and you found out I go to a Lycée in another part of Paris."

"I don't know if I want to go there," I mused. "Me dating a model is too close to Alya's original attempt to hook me up with Adrien."

Chat chuckled. "I, for one, am glad that didn't work out."

"Me too," I said as I encircled him with my arms. "I mean, don't get me wrong, Adrien is a great friend." I paused, thoughtful. "He was acting a bit strange earlier."

"Was he?" Chat replied. I couldn't help but notice his masked feline eyes kept darting to the ball of yarn. "How so?"

"He took exception with Luka hitting on me," I replied, watching Chat's expression closely.

His eyes flicked back to mine. "Luka did what?" he growled, masked eyes narrowing.

I felt a bemused expression appear on my face. "Funny, Adrien had the same reaction-"

Chat's eyes widened and then darted back to the yarn; a fraction of a second later, he let out a small yelp and leapt out of my arms, flipped twice to the corner of my room and pounced on the ball of yarn. Within moments, he'd gotten it entangled in his claws, sending fuzzy filaments floating into the air in the process.

"Chat!" I cried.

"Sorry," he laughed, wearing a chagrined expression as he looked up at me from his back. "There are a few cat-tendencies that are occasionally hard to ignore."

"Clearly," I laughed as I knelt beside him and tried to untangle him. "I'd love to see what catnip does to you."

His masked feline eyes went wide. "No," he said, dead seriously, "you don't."