Forty-Nine: Going to the Movies

Author's Note: With Christmas behind them, Chat gets down to enjoying his brief respite with Marinette and her family. Too bad Hawkmoth has other plans.

Used to being up early, I awoke in my guest bed and stretched in the early morning dimness, careful not to wake my sleeping kwami on the pillow beside me. Leaning on my elbow, I watched him for a few moments, knowing he'd enjoyed the full-day affair that Christmas had been at least as much as I had. My eyes flicked to what was left of the massive wheel of Camembert that had been my gift to him and smiled. An aftereffect of my nearly-constant need to remain transformed while staying at the Bakery meant he'd not been able to snoop and consequently hadn't located the second wheel I was planning on surprising him with on New Year's Eve.

My phone indicated it was a little before six, but my semi-augmented human hearing had picked up Marinette's parents as they'd gone to work far earlier in the main kitchen below. Tantalizing smells were wafting up the stairway, smells that I knew would be readily identifiable once I became Chat again. For now, they lent the space a cozy domesticated feel, something I never enjoyed at the mansion.

Ever.

Sliding carefully from beneath the sheets, I padded over to my duffle and pulled out a fresh set of clothes for the day – not that it was strictly necessary, but I needed to be prepared in case Adrien had to appear somewhere, and it wouldn't do not to be properly put together. After ensuring Plagg was still soundly asleep, I quietly moved down the hall to the bath and quickly went through my morning routine. I skipped the hair gel as my own private Christmas gift.

Marinette found the transformed me a short time later perched in the open window, taking in the fresh morning air. "Chat?" she said as she knocked on the partially open door.

I turned my masked eyes toward her. "Morning, sunshine," I smiled as I held out a costumed arm to beckon her over.

"I believe that is my line, kitty," she smiled as she leaned into my side.

"Purrhaps." I sighed as I pulled her close. Despite the snow and cold, I'd opened the window fully so I could perch properly, but I knew my girlfriend would get chilled quickly. Letting her go, I reluctantly slid the massive frame closed before leaping to the bed. "What's on tap for today?"

"Absolutely nothing," Marinette smiled. "We don't have to be anywhere or do anything."

"Unless Hawk—"

Mari put a finger to my lips. "Utter that name again in this household and I can guarantee you won't get cookies for a month."

"That's a serious penalty," I said through her finger.

"Compris?"

Instead of answering, I leaned into my feline abilities and quickly pulled her into me, positioning my lips over hers. "Completely," I said slyly.

I didn't get to make good on my own implied threatened action as my feline hearing heard Sabine coming up the steps. Figuring it might not be wise to have her find her daughter entwined with her feline boyfriend, I quickly separated us before the gentle knock at the door.

"Kids?" Sabine's smiling face appeared. "I've got breakfast ready in the residence; I've got to get back down to the store and help Tom with some special orders for New Year's."

"Thanks, maman," Marinette said as we hopped off the bed and followed her mother back to the kitchen.

My eyes bugged out as I took a seat at the breakfast bar, for Sabine had cooked enough for an army. I turned to tell her so only to see her disappear out the main door of the apartment to head back to the Bakery proper. Looking back at Marinette, masked eyes wide, I asked: "Is she expecting us to eat all of this?"

"No," Marinette smiled. "Only you," she teased before adding, "although she has noticed that I'm also eating more than normal. And not gaining any weight."

I snagged a petite glazed donut. "You need to be careful, Milady," I cautioned. "My diet is pretty restricted at the mansion, so they've not noticed my need for more calories. Your parents are likely to start connecting the dots the longer I eat them out of house and home."

Marinette frowned. "That's a good point," she said as she pulled out her phone. "I have a thought."

Munching on my third pastry and reaching for the oatmeal, my masked eyes watched her start to speed dial Alya. "Oh?" I asked.

"Yeah…" she started before frowning.

My paw containing a croissant paused halfway to my mouth. "I recognize that look," I said.

"Yeah. I completely forgot – Alya and Nino are already on their way over. The three of us were going to surprise you at the mansion with brunch and a movie as a late Christmas gift. Assuming, of course, your Father let us take you."

I smiled. "That's a great idea!" I said brightly. "So why the long face?"

"We're taking Adrien," she repeated. "That means not Chat."

"Right," I agreed, though a bit perplexed. "So I'll just de-transform and-"

"Kitty, my parents already know about the plan," she said. "They'll assume you weren't part of it and would naturally want to stay here while I'm out."

"Oh," I said, suddenly seeing the whole picture. "Still, I don't really see a problem," I continued as I tapped a claw on the table. "I mean, there's no reason that I wouldn't need to do an unscheduled outing to meet Ladybug, right?" I asked, winking.

Marinette smiled.

"I'll get a text message on my baton, apologize to your parents and promise them I'll be back before dinner," I continued, "but we'll have to make sure I leave well before you guys do and return ahead."

Marinette nodded. "You are getting better at the whole make-a-plan thing, kitty," she said warmly.

"I've had a good teacher."

"All right," she smiled.

We waited until Sabine came back up from the Bakery before I went through the charade of checking my baton; waving to the two of them, I scampered up to the rooftop patio and sailed into the crisp morning in a random direction. I knew I had about an hour to kill before meeting the trio at the theater, so I had plenty of time to make for a favorite rooftop that wasn't all that far away. Still, it didn't take long to get there, even with a rather circuitous route.

As I landed, a flock of doves scattered and I stifled a sneeze – and the impulse to chase after them. I had yet to find an allergy solution to feathers and was resigned to sneezing my way through our weekly encounters with Mister Pigeon. Why Hawkmoth kept picking on that poor Monsieur Ramier was beyond both Ladybug and I, though he was keeping us supplied with free ice cream.

I trotted toward a chimney and vaulted upward, landing on the conical aluminum covering. Perched carefully, I dug out my baton and called Marinette. "Chat's in the sky," I said.

"Good," Marinette smiled. "Alya and I will leave in about an hour."

I arched a masked eyebrow. "What happened to Nino?" I asked.

"Did you have… to pick… such a tall building?" I heard behind me.

Looking down, I watched Carapace haul himself over the edge of the half-wall I'd easily hurdled earlier. "Cap? What are you doing here?"

"I didn't want you to wait alone," Marinette's image smiled.

"And I got the short straw," Carapace whined from his back. "Turtles don't climb walls, you know."

"Not like cats, that's for sure," I said as I easily vaulted down to crouch beside my best friend.

"You two behave," Marinette said. "If you do, the popcorn's on us."

"No purromises," I replied with a wicked gleam to my eye.

My girlfriend rolled her eyes and hung up. I turned back to Cap. "So, what sort of trouble should we get into?"

Cap had rolled into a sitting position and was staring at something over my shoulder. "Maybe that black cloud of smoke over there…?"

I turned and sure enough smoke was billowing fairly close to where the cinema was. "Come on," I said as I extended my baton.

"Shouldn't we call Ladybug?"

"There's no time," I replied as I launched into the air.

Reluctantly, Carapace followed me, and we dropped together onto the rooftop overlooking the smoking crater of what had been the cinema. A massive sentimonster stood over the ruins, some sort of film projector on a tripod capable of movement. I felt my ears flatten and I moved into a defensive crouch; we'd only recently started to encounter these siblings to akumas, and none had been easy to handle.

"This isn't good," I breathed. "You might have been right."

"About calling Ladybug?" Carapace said from his crouch. "No kidding. We might need everyone for this."

I nodded and popped open my baton to speed dial Marinette. As her face appeared, though, my feline vision caught movement and I looked up. The sentimonster had unerringly zeroed in on us, and the massive lens for the projector had swiveled in our direction. Purely on instinct, I wrapped my arms around Carapace and vaulted us away from its line of sight.

A beam of light sizzled across the roof where we'd been, leaving a massive scorch mark in its wake. We landed a few meters away and I released Cap so we could leap away once more.

Sensing my intent, Carapace went left and dropped to a lower roof; I vaulted higher, twisted in mid-air and came down behind a portico, narrowly avoiding another shot. Snapping open my baton again, Marinette's concerned face reappeared.

"What's going—"

"Sentimonster," I interrupted. "At the—"

My feline instincts took over and I vaulted away from the portico a fraction of a second before it exploded into thousands of pieces of glass and stone. I hit the wall and leapt into the air, helicoptering over an alley and landed in a crouch beside a dumpster.

A leg of the tripod appeared at the street end of the alley and I scurried deeper, hit the wall at the far end of the space and leapt from ledge to ledge, narrowly avoiding that beam. I attempted to be random in my movements, but it was obvious I only had one exit – up.

Projector-thing made the same assessment and redirected a shot to a window above me; debris flew out and down, knocking me off the wall completely. I tumbled downward and barely got the baton around and extended in time to pogo myself up and out of the alley.

Arcing over the edge of the roof, I dropped to all fours and ran as fast as could. The camera-thing had risen high enough that it took aim once more; I zig-zagged randomly, but it was getting better at ranging.

I was running out of time and rooftop when I heard Carapace. "Over here!"

Cap was waving me toward an alcove and I redirected toward him. I watched as he counted down the distance; I made a final leap toward him and landed in my crouch beside him.

"Quick – wrap us in Shell-ter!" I cried.

Carapace nodded and started to work his secret power when he vanished in a flash of white light.

Whirling, I caught sight of a small woman dressed in an outdated theater uniform; she was wearing massive goggles and trailed what looked like real thirty-five millimeter film out of a pocket of her jacket. Holding her hands up, I watched as she effortlessly caught a circular film canister that sailed back at her from where Carapace had been standing.

At least I now had an answer as to who had generated the senitmonster. But I knew I'd be unable to deal with both an akuma and a sentimonster solo.

Watching me, she smiled, and whipped out the film from her pocket, hurling it toward me in a fluid motion. I sprung from my spot, but the film caught a boot and yanked me back to the tile. I managed to roll out of its embrace and vaulted into the air, only to have one of those damn canisters nail me in the torso mid-leap.

Something sizzled around me, and my vision was temporarily blinded by a flash of light; blinking furiously, it came back a few seconds later. That didn't stop me from blinking again. And again.

The concerned face of Carapace came into focus, and then his green-gloved hand that helped me up off the cool metal deck plates I'd been kneeling upon. I blinked one more time, finally allowing my brain to register where I was, for it most definitely was not a rooftop in Paris.

We instead stood inside a small alcove just off a larger futuristic-looking office. People in subdued uniforms were moving deliberately across the space, and didn't seem at all intrigued by the sudden appearance of two animal-themed superheroes in their midst. The hum of machinery created an oddly comfortable background noise, and very technical looking consoles with round displays filled the space, streaming data I couldn't even begin to fathom.

A tall man with dark hair and a salt-and-pepper mustache was standing beside a small half-arc of a desk just opposite the raised platform we'd appeared on; a woman sat next to him, dressed in the same professional uniform as the man, and was looking a bit worried.

"Admiral!" the man frowned as he briskly walked around the desk. "Those departure orders!" he said angrily, a bit of a Scottish brogue accentuating his ire. "Twelve hours! Starfleet canna be serious!"

Staring at the uniformed man, I glanced sidelong at Carapace. "What movie were you taking me to?" I asked quietly.

Cap looked around at the futuristic space we were in, and like me, through the viewport in the far wall. There were stars out there, twinkling brightly and not obscured by the atmosphere; just off to the side, the partial curve of the Earth was visible as it rotated below us. I could just make out the North American continent, swathed in clouds here and there. It was a phenomenal view, but it was also, most definitely, only one you could see from orbit.

"It was the fortieth anniversary showing of the first Star Trek movie," he replied in hushed tones as he turned back to me.

I smiled at him, despite the situation. "The three of you were willing to sit through The Motion Picture? For me?"

"What are friends for?" he said softly, returning the smile. "But, Chat… dude… what just happened?"

"Admiral?" the man prompted me again, making me realize he'd been speaking to me for a bit. His anger had faded to something more like concern. "Are ye all right, sir? Ye dinna look so good."

"I'm fine, Mister Scott," I said, looking back at Carapace. I'd seen this movie so many times now, I knew the next line by heart. "Why aren't the Enterprise transporters operating?"

Scotty looked at me for a moment. "A wee problem, sir, just temporary." He paused again. "Admiral, we've just finished eighteen months redesigning and refitting the Enterprise! How in the name of Hell do they expect me to get her ready in twelve hours?"

"Take us over, please," I ordered as we stepped down from the transporter dais.

Scotty nodded and we followed him into a small travel pod. As he closed the doors and fired up the systems, I pulled Carapace to the side. "I think we're inside the movie," I said. "Trapped, somehow."

He followed my gaze forward to the arcing window at the front of the pod as we heard the pod undock; slowly, then picking up speed, we started to fly toward the massive drydock in the distance. Bits and pieces of light spilled from around the delicate looking latticework, and from this angle, I couldn't make out what was inside. Not that it mattered, for I was well aware of what waited for us, and beyond that, what was awaiting the Enterprise and her crew.

I couldn't fathom how Hawkmoth could turn this to his advantage, unless this particular akuma was capable of changing the way the movie played out. Since we were definitely not standing on a movie set, I was willing to bet that was the case; and, seeing as though we were quite clearly sailing through space at the moment, it made real the prospect actual harm could befall us. It was a plus in our column that I knew the story inside and out – something old Hawky wouldn't have known.

Glancing down to my glowing ring, I was starting to suspect how this version of the movie would end, though, should Hawkmoth have his way.

"Inside the movie?" Carapace asked as he turned back to me, eyes wide. "How do we get out, then?"

"I don't know, Cap," I said. "I honestly don't know."

Special Note:

Ep: You'll have to forgive me this blending of two universes that I adore. But first, an explanation. I've been working on the sequel for The Keys to Paris, and while I thought I had a pretty cool idea, I wasn't entirely sure if I could make it work – nor if I could make the sequence of events to get Chat and company aboard the Enterprise believable within the framework of the MLB universe. So, lucky WCBHKH reader, you're inadvertently part of my beta test for what might happen in that story.

Chat Noir: Hey, I'm in.

Ep: I know, you've been begging for this since Sweethearts Ball.

CN: (narrows masked eyes dangerously) I don't beg.

Ep: Right. Anyway, I'm also coming up on two milestones – 100k words and the first anniversary of starting this story. While these versions of the characters remain my favorite in the stable of what I've written so far-

CN: (masked eyes wide) Why does this sound like a eulogy? Are you killing me off?

Ep: No – nothing like that. I'm just considering moving on to some of the other ideas in my brain's MLB pipeline.

CN:

Ep: Chat? Are you okay?

CN: I don't know. You tell me.

Ep: Would you mind stepping away from my laptop? It cost me a fortune the last time you tried to tap out an email with your claws.

CN: Did it? I'd forgotten…

Ep: ANYway, I've got a few more chapters planned that will carry us through to the one-year anniversary of the start of WCBHKH; after that, I can't promise more than sporadic updates as the mood hits.

CN: Seriously? Look, what do I have to do to make this nonsense idea go away?

Ep: I suppose a petition. Or a list of writing prompts I've not already covered in this story. But you could step away from my laptop for a start…

CN: Yeah, no. I'm going to be keeping this. (scurries away, holding laptop)

Ep: (calling after receding feline form) You do realize Google Docs is an internet program, right?