Twenty: At Just The Right Moment

Rubbing my eyes, I pressed back from the desk I'd commandeered in the main library and yawned. I didn't need to look at my phone to know it was well after midnight, but Hawkmoth had gone manic again and as a result I was hopelessly behind on my term paper. Staring down at the MacBook my boyfriend had given me, I loathed what I had written and loathed further what was left to write.

Tilting back, I idly looked around and noted there were a handful of other patrons, most if not all wearing the same half-panicked expression I knew I was displaying. I turned back to my desk and put my head down on the surface, working overtime to keep from screaming out in frustration. I took a few deep breaths, trying to center myself, and found it wasn't working.

Just when I felt the initial throes of panic threaten to overtake me, I heard the familiar whisper of fabric and a rubbery thump atop my table. I felt a gentle kiss on my head, followed by another, and then the welcome careful caress along my hair.

I looked up, and saw Chat laying on his chest, facing me, face full of concern. "How do you do that?" I asked.

"Do what?" he replied, cocking his head questioningly.

"Appear, just when I need you the most."

He smiled as he toyed with the tie I'd used for my pigtail. "Cats mate for life," he explained. "It gives us a psychic bond with our beloved."

I looked at him. "Really?"

"No," he smiled. "I actually use magic."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course you do."

"Don't knock it," he smiled wider. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"I can deny the results," I said. "And though I'm happy to see you, I really do need to finish this paper."

"I thought you might say that," he said. "Care to join me under the table for a minute?" he asked, smiling slyly.

My eyes widened. "Chat - we're in the library-"

"Trust me," he said as he rolled backwards and flipped silently off the table.

Sighing, I did a quick look to ensure we hadn't attracted any attention and then slid below my table. Chat was there, sitting in his patient-cat stance, and holding two cups of coffee.

"I have to admit," I said as I gratefully accepted one of the cups, "this is not what I expected you wanted to do under here."

Chat put a paw to his chest and tried unsuccessfully to look innocent. "My virtue, Mademoiselle," he said, "has never been called into question."

"I suppose not," I laughed quietly as I sipped the hot beverage. Slowly, I felt some brain cells coming back online. "If you don't count last weekend at Versailles."

"Especially last weekend." Chat flushed a deep crimson as he remembered, visible even in the semi-darkness below the table. "You didn't play fair, anyway," he mewled good naturedly as he sipped his own coffee.

"It's not my fault the suit doesn't come off," I said evilly.

"I might be able to change that someday," he countered, narrowing his semi-glowing masked eyes dangerously. "You've been warned."

"Regardless," I continued, trying to hide my smirk as I sipped and slid into safer territory, "the caffeine is quite welcome." I leaned forward and kissed him. "Thank you."

Chat rather smugly licked his lips. "Mmmm… chocolate, with a dash of caramel," he smiled. "Purrfectly you."

I rolled my eyes. "I've got to get back to work before you distract me right out of finishing this paper," I said as I moved back into my seat.

"All right," Chat said a bit sadly I thought. "I'll leave you be." And with a silent whisper of fabric, he was gone.

I spent another hour pounding away at the laptop before putting my head down once more, intending only to rest my eyes for a moment. The caffeine infusion had sustained me through the back half of the paper, but I was crashing, hard.

My eyes fluttered open at the gust of wind at my face; groggily, I realized I was moving along the rooftops of Paris, but in my sleep-deprived state, didn't feel that it was all that extraordinary. I closed my eyes once more and leaned against the black leather-cladded shoulder I was snuggled into and took in the comforting sandalwood scent, intrinsically knowing I was in good hands.

Or paws, as the case may be.

The golden filaments of dawn rousted me more fully some hours later; yawning and stretching, I found I was in my bedroom at the Bakery once more carefully tucked in. I leaned up on one arm, expecting to see Chat curled up on my chaise per normal, but instead saw him at my desk, the MacBook open. His tail was moving to and fro idly as he scanned the screen with his masked eyes, every now and then tapping out something on the keyboard with his claws.

"Chat?" I said, still sleepy.

"Purrincess," he replied, turning toward me and training his megawatt grin on me. "Awake at last, I see."

"What on earth are you doing?" I asked as I flipped back the covers and slid down the ladder.

"Final proof on your term paper," he shrugged. "I woke early and thought I'd take a crack at it for you."

I looked at him. "There's a password on the laptop," I said.

"I know," he smiled wider, eyes narrowing. "You might want to change it."

"How—"

"I am a cat of many talents," he laughed. "Anyway, this paper is really good. I fixed up a few grammar problems, made a few suggestions in the margin, and ensured your references were all cited properly. You turned fifteenth century French Couture into a gripping read."

"Thank you – I think," I said as I leaned in for a kiss. "You didn't have to do that, though. I was going to have Adrien proof it later." My friend and former crush had followed me to the same University, and though he was on more of a business track, he'd been taking a number of overlapping fashion and design classes with me. I presumed he was similarly hard at work on his term paper – or, knowing him, had actually finished it weeks ago.

"Oh," Chat said, his ears flattening a bit. "I'm sorry. I'd not intended to overstep—"

"It's not that, Chat," I said, swooping in to sit on his lap sideways. "This is pretty particular material. Without you being in these classes with me, you don't know what the professor is emphasizing. The beats I have to hit. You know."

Chat's ears flattened further. "I see," he said, a trace of iciness in his voice.

For some reason, I felt as though I'd insulted him. "I appreciate the help, though," I said, trying to mollify him.

"Right," he smiled weakly, but he still looked a bit hurt. "I should go," he added before kissing me one last time.

"Chat—" I started but in a blur of black fabric, he was up and out the skylight. It was perplexing, for he normally wouldn't miss an excuse to stay for breakfast; not only that, he'd failed to make his standard promise to see me later that evening.

Despite the fact he was no longer a teenager, there were times when I felt like he was.

I sighed and got ready for the day; my first class was fairly late that morning, so I grabbed a bit of breakfast and then made for the Metro. University was on the far side of the city from the Bakery, though on the Metro merely a twenty-minute trip. Nevertheless, I often had time to put the finishing touches on homework or re-read an assigned article. This morning, I popped open my paper to make some last-minute adjustments before cornering Adrien and begging him to review it.

A few pages in, I found the first note in the side column from Chat. I was about to clear it when I read it a second time and realized he'd made an astute observation; switching programs to my notebook, I found he was correct, and flipped back to my paper to adjust the blindingly obvious historical error I'd almost made. Curious, I started to scan the paper and came to the next comment, and again found Chat had quietly suggested a pretty important correction.

By the time we pulled into the station below the campus, I'd managed to get through most of his suggestions; only one was more of a matter of opinion, and he'd said as much in his note ("This could go either way, but I like your angle here and might not change it"). Grabbing my things, I hurried up the escalator to the daylight, speed-dialing Chat as I dashed up the steps.

There was a click or two when it connected, and possibly owing to still being underground, I didn't get a video chat. "Purrincess," I heard. "What's up?"

"Chat, your suggestions were brilliant," I gushed. "I'm sorry about this morning; I just-"

"Didn't think I knew anything about fashion history?" he laughed. "I did point out I was a feline of many talents."

"I stand corrected," I said. "And I'm truly sorry."

"Never judge a cat by his costume, Mari," he said softly.

"I keep making that mistake, over and over again," I replied. "And yet you are still with me."

"I can't imagine being anywhere else but by your side, Purrincess," he purred. "We're both still learning about each other, aren't we? We'll get through it."

"We will," I laughed. "Come by earlier if you can, I'll make your favorite croissants by way of apology."

"I can do that," he said, and I heard the smile in his voice. "Gotta scat."

"Love you, kitty."

"I love you more, Mari," he said sweetly before clicking off.

I paused at the top of the escalator, just to the side of the off-rushing passengers, and slid my phone back into my purse. Looking up, I spied Adrien crossing the quad toward me and waved at him.

"Hey," he smiled as he jogged over to me. "You look tired this morning."

"What else is new," I rolled my eyes. "I was up most of the night working on my paper."

"Me too," he groaned. "I enjoy this professor, but the writing is killing me. I think I nailed it, though. You?"

I paused, and then smiled. "I have a feline I did, yes."