Fifty-Four: When In Southern Cal, Be Sure To Visit The Sights

Author's Note: While shooting on location in Santa Monica, California, the team begs Adrien to visit the production offices of the recent Ladybug animated movie. Sneaking away at lunchtime proves to be a poor decision, however…


My bodyguard woke me while it was still pitch black outside the windows of the beachfront cottage; groggily, I tossed on some sweats and followed him out the patio doors and onto the beach beyond the small gate. Meters from where we had enjoyed s'mores just a few hours earlier, a small crew was constructing the set for the photo shoot, raising lights and running cables all over the place. Just off to the side, the makeup and wardrobe trailers had been hauled in; the lights from both spilled out from their small windows across the sand, the only illumination save for the partial moon reflected against the gentle surf crashing along the beach.

Trudging into the makeup trailer first, I was pounced upon by a crew of three; I was reminded why models couldn't be self-conscious, for in short order, every square inch of skin that wouldn't be covered by a swimsuit was coated with a deep bronze solution to make it appear as though I'd been frolicking among the waves for months now. While that dried, they went after the hair (four pounds of gel, easily) and face (I detested the mascara especially). When the sun finally started to lighten the beach outside the window of the trailer some two hours later, the Adrien Agreste I saw in the mirror was a carbon copy of the one appearing on last several fashion magazine covers and more than a few billboards throughout Paris – albeit wearing a terry cloth robe.

That was how the trio found me when the door to the trailer opened. I'd been a model long enough that it only bothered me in passing that my friends would see me in such a state; what hurt more was seeing the cup of coffee in Nino's hand and the egg sandwich Alya was munching on. Marinette must have seen some part of my Chat persona staring longingly at the food and quickly shushed the duo back out of the trailer before joining me.

"You haven't eaten, have you?" she asked quietly as she took the small folding chair next to the makeup station.

"I'll get something on the set later," I said, sounding perhaps a little too eager.

"You look… tanned…" Mari said, her eyes taking in what skin was visible.

"I know," I laughed. "Apparently I need to spend more time in the sun back in Paris."

She leaned closer after ensuring the lone remaining makeup artist was exiting the trailer. "Well, you are tanned around your mask," she said softly with a wink.

I felt myself flushing. "I had to explain that I wore large sunglasses," I whispered even though we were alone. "I don't think they bought it, but I also didn't realize the transformation wasn't resetting my skin coloring either."

"You are Chat far too often," she reminded me.

"Which is why I am tempted to call on Plagg and escape this whole thing," I frowned.

"He might be annoyed," she said. "Tikki is with him; they were enjoying the sunrise from the rooftop last I knew, along with Trixx and Wayzz."

I sighed. "He deserves some time off, I suppose."

"All of them do." She glanced to the door. "When does it start?"

"The festivities?" I asked, arching an eyebrow. "As soon as the light is right for the photographer. Maybe thirty minutes," I added, looking out the window again. "This particular artist likes the 'golden hour' around sunrise and sunset."

Looking back at my girlfriend, I smiled slightly. "It's not very glamorous life, that of a supermodel. I mostly wait around for something to happen."

"Well, thanks for having us along in any event," she smiled and leaned in for a hug.

"Hey – hey – hey!" came a cry from the door. Guiltily, we both turned as the makeup artist bounded toward me. "Watch the coloring!" she cried as she frantically applied something to my chin. "This stuff comes off easy."

"Good to know," I said, though it was muffled a bit by her efforts. It took a ton of effort not to laugh at the face Marinette was making just off to my side.


The first three outfits took up a third of the morning – if such small scraps of fabric could be called that. Normally I'd not give a moment's thought to what I was wearing for the camera, but with Alya documenting every last move, I found myself reversing course and becoming quite self-conscious – to the point where I was relieved my flaming face was well-hidden beneath the layers of makeup. Still, my model training served me well and the photographer didn't call for more than a handful of re-shoots.

Despite the seeming warmth the early morning sunshine should have provided, I found I was chilled to the bone standing on the sand for the camera. The gentle sea breeze reminded me I was the only one on set not wearing a hat or jacket – or, well, anything for that matter; it was made worse, perhaps, by the massive fans that were being used intermittently to give the illusion of movement, though the amount of gel in my hair made that nearly impossible to capture on film. There was no question the goosebumps were going to visible.

Blessedly, close to ten we broke for the first time and I descended on the craft table like a vengeful wraith, piling a plate full of food and oblivious to the stares I was getting from the crew. I generally hadn't gotten much in the way of calories before becoming Chat Noir, owing to my need to fit a specific body shape for Father's ad campaigns; with my metabolism cranked as a result of the Miraculous, I found myself to be ravenous no matter the hour. Marinette had initially (unwittingly) augmented my caloric intake when I began visiting her at the Bakery as Chat, but even before that, I'd made many a midnight snack run on the kitchen once I became a Hero of Paris. It wasn't easy sneaking around the mansion, and though it would have been far easier to do as Chat, for some reason I'd opted instead to bury my impulse and remain in my civilian form. Some part of my fur brain knew it would be bad if Chat were caught with his hand in the treat jar.

I made short work of my first plateful of food and had to resist a very feline impulse to lick the plate clean of crumbs (where on Earth did that come from?); it took but a moment to remind myself nature abhorred a vacuum. Returning to the craft table a second time, I piled my plate high again, pulled my robe tighter against the sea breeze and then set out to find my friends.

They were sitting along the edge of the what appeared to be a wooden balance beam, part of some sort of open-air gym. It happened to be just inside a small ribbon that had been strung around the set, something that must have gone up while I'd been in hair and makeup. A small crowd of curious beachgoers had gathered to see what the fuss was all about; contrary to the huge crowds that formed wherever I went in Paris, though, this one was rather sedate and not very large. I smiled, realizing most of these people probably had no idea who I was or what the big deal going on behind me was all about.

I started to say hello when I caught the gleeful smile on Alya's face. "What?" I asked as I hopped up and settled in next to Marinette. I growled at her slightly when she snuck a grape off my plate.

"You know that company that did the animated Ladybug movie?" she asked.

"I should," I smiled. Marinette stole another grape and I growled again, glaring at her as I shifted the plate away. "I'm the voice of Chat Noir in the movie. And the upcoming sequels."

Marinette blinked. "I forgot about that," she said, reaching behind me and trying to snag the croissant. "Is it weird acting as yourself?"

"No," I laughed. "The lines were terrible, the puns worse, and I couldn't fathom the plot."

"And yet it was a massive blockbuster," Nino said. "Despite not having Carapace or Rena in it."

I laughed. "You sound like Chloe."

"Hey!" Nino's eyes narrowed. "No need for insults, dude."

"Sorry," I said as I maneuvered the plate away from my girlfriend again.

"Well," Alya said, "as it turns out, they have an office here in Santa Monica." She paused. "Where the writers work. And the producer."

I frowned, for I thought I knew were this was going. "No," I said, shaking my gelled-to-my-skull hair. "Absolutely not."

"Hear me out," Alya continued. "What if the Chat Noir dropped in and made the suggestion—"

"No."

"Dude," Nino said, "at the very least they should use Mari-chick for Ladybug, not whoever it was."

That was a fair point, for the woman they'd selected to voice Ladybug had been a challenge to work with, though the script had left a lot to be desired, too. "I'm not that powerful," I hedged. "I'm just the voice talent."

"You're also the son of Gabriel Agreste, who happens to have an exclusive deal to market clothing based on the movie," Alya reminded me. "But it's not Adrien we want. It should be Chat."

I blinked. "How do I explain suddenly turning up in California?" I asked, before realizing I was actually considering this wacky request.

Marinette smiled. "Pegasus," she said simply.

I groaned. "Are you stealing my idea?"

"We aren't actually going to use him," she said. "But it is a handy explanation."

I looked at my friends. "And I suppose you want to ensure that Cap and Rena are worked into the sequel, too," I accused, arching an eyebrow.

Nino had the good sense to flush. "Dude—"

"Fine," I said as I caught the assistant photographer beckoning to me. "But we all go."

"That was the—"

"Transformed," I added as I gave up and handed the plate to Marinette.

Alya's eyes widened. "Now wait just a minute—"

"Dude, I don't—"

"Chat—I mean, Adrien, that's—"

"See you at lunch," I laughed as I stood up and headed back to the set.


After receiving explicit instructions not to do anything to disturb my makeup, I was allowed to leave the set and ostensibly return to the beach cottage for our extended five-hour lunch break. The photographer wanted to wait until the late afternoon sun was just right, which gave us plenty of time to put our plan into action. My bodyguard supervised us retrieving food from the catered buffet that House of Gabriel had provided, and then disappeared to the front of the cottage from which sounds of a football match were emanating. The four of us bolted down our food the moment he left the small dining room we'd settled into, and then Marinette beckoned us up the steps to the next floor where half of the bedrooms were.

Marinette pushed the door closed behind her as we entered the room she was sharing with Alya. Quickly she moved over to one of the beds and doled out sweats and hoodies to each of us. I was startled slightly to see mine happened to be what I'd worn to the set that morning, and I wondered how she'd managed to retrieve it from the makeup trailer.

"Transform and then put these on," she said as she looked to Alya. "According to Google maps, the office is less than five kilometers from our current location."

I held up the hoodie in my hands. "This will make it kinda hard to leap tall buildings in a single bound," I pointed out with a frown.

"We're trying to stay under the radar," she reminded me. "Someone snaps an Instagram post of us sailing over the rooftops of Los Angeles, and we'll have real trouble back in Paris."

"Good point, Milady," I said as four kwamis phased in from the floor above. One look at Tikki told me how she felt about the enterprise we were about to undertake, but was holding her tongue.

Multiple transformation flashes later, four quasi-normal looking teens were walking in pairs down the cracked concrete sidewalk, away from the beach and into what passed for metropolitan Santa Monica. Cap had been forced to leave his shield back at the cottage, well hidden in the room I was sharing with him; for my part, the hoodie was crunching my feline ears in a most uncomfortable manner.

If I had been worried about standing out in our workout gear, seeing the eclectic nature of the population of Santa Monica quickly disabused me of that notion. We passed all manner of person, including two clad in amazingly accurate replica hero costumes of Spider-Man and Thor, taking photos with tourists. "We didn't need a costume for our costumes, apparently," I muttered to Ladybug. "Cap could have passed for one of those Ninja turtles."

"Stop mewling, Chat," she joshed good naturedly.

"You're not the one whose ears are—"

"Says the Chat to the Fox," Rena interrupted with a nudge and a glare when I turned to her.

"Ah, sorry Rena," I apologized. "I furget I'm not the only one with extra on top." I paused. "Though I think—"

Ladybug put a hand to my arm as we crossed a side street. "Chat, do you see that dark sedan in the alley off the left?" she asked. "Don't make it obvious when you look," she warned.

I casually glanced where she indicated. "Yes," I said, narrowing my masked eyes. "Two very formal dudes are watching us quite closely," I added, leaning on my superior feline vision.

"We passed another vehicle a few blocks back, come to think of it," Rena added. "It was the same size and color."

My ears went up despite being under the hoodie. "I don't believe in coincidence," I said under my breath. "LB?"

"Me either," she said. "I think our little trip might need to be postponed," she continued as she palmed her yo-yo and snapped it open to the mapping application. "The next intersection, we can turn, drop our transformations and make a beeline to the beach behind this street—"

"Guys," Carapace said quietly. "Don't look now, but we're being followed." He paused. "Uh, by those two in the clown outfits we passed earlier."

I glanced over my shoulder and then picked up the pace with Ladybug. "How tall is Spider-Man supposed to be?" I asked of our resident hero expert.

"I dunno," Rena replied. "Maybe one-hundred and fifty centimeters? Plus or minus? Some paper here in the States scored an interview with him last year. I have a link to it in my 'other heroes' portion of the Ladyblog."

I growled. "Any chance I might get out of that section?"

Rena laughed quietly. "It is called the Ladyblog, Chat." She glanced over her shoulder. "You don't really think it's him, do you?"

"Normally I'd say no, since heroes don't generally leave their home city," I said as we started to move a bit more rapidly. "But the four of us prove that isn't always a hard-and-fast rule."

"It's us," Ladybug said. "Somehow they found out we are here in Los Angeles."

I nodded. "And they called in the big guns."

Rena chuckled. "If that is Thor, then quite literally."

"Hang on," Carapace said. "I don't quite understand – they're after us? Why?"

"Not to welcome us," I breathed as my feline eye scanned the street. "Sedan's moving."

"Holy—"

"We've got to lose them," Ladybug said as we ducked into the side alley she'd indicated earlier and started to shrug out of her hoodie. "And fast. But stick together – they might try to pick us off one at a time."

The four of us broke into a run, shedding our quasi-disguises as we bolted down the narrow space. I winced slightly as my claws shredded the fabric, but a more pressing concern was the screeching tires of a black sedan as it wheeled around the far end and cut off our escape to the beach.

"Up!" I cried, grabbing Carapace around his waist and triggering my baton to rise quickly to the rooftop of the old brick building next to us. Ladybug looped an arm around Rena and rode her yo-yo up beside me, and the four of us landed, crouched, on a slightly-angled tarpaper rooftop. The relative safety of the wide beach was visible in the distance, seemingly easy to get to save for the hulking presence of Thor and the crouched form of Spider-Man.

"Uh, hi," I said, switching to English as I shifted into my own pounce-crouch. "Know any good dairies? I'm looking for the purrfect glass of milk."

"I'm sure you are," Spidey say as he carefully circled toward us. "Who are you, exactly?"

"Would you believe tourists?" I replied as we regrouped into a protective half-arc, keeping Thor and his spinning hammer on one side, and Spidey on the other.

"No," the somewhat accented voice of the God of Thunder said.

"We're gonna need you to come with us," Spider-Man said.

"I'd love to, but my calendar is kind of full," I replied, arching a masked eyebrow. "If you talk to my people, though, we can see what we can do squeeze you in."

"You talk a lot," Thor said as he menacingly twirled that massive hammer of his.

"It's a gift," I replied. Our group shrunk a little as the two closed in on us, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Ladybug clicking one of her dots on the exterior of the yo-yo. I made a guess about our next move and focused on our new friends, slowly spinning my baton. Compared to Thor's hammer, it felt a little underwhelming as a weapon.

They're delaying, I thought to myself. And while I'm not sure that they could handle the four of us combined, they could make the attempt. That tells me something… and I need to delay them a bit, too.

Smiling my best Chat smile, I turned my masked visage on the other bug on the roof. "Say, Spidey – can I call you Spidey? Who does your costume? Did you make it yourself?"

Nonplussed, Spider-Man paused in his approach. "Well, I didn't make this one," he answered. "Tony—"

"Kid," Thor rumbled.

My masked eyes narrowed. "Ah, a minder," I sighed. "Not trusted to be on your own yet?"

"Hey!" Spidey said defensively. "I work with the-"

"Kid," Thor rumbled louder.

A feline ear flicked. "Another car below," I said under my breath to Ladybug, swapping quickly to our native tongue. "And maybe two more down the street. They are surrounding the building."

"Any moment now," she replied in French. "I hope."

There was a rooftop stairwell access point off to one side, a rickety-looking wooden affair that I had written off as an escape route fairly quickly. The door opened, revealing a man with balding hair, designer sunglasses and a suit straight from some clearinghouse for Secret Government Employees. Stepping over to us quickly, he was followed by several paramilitary-styled soldiers who trained sci-fi looking rifles on the four of us.

"Hello," the man said with a pleasant smile. "I don't want to harm any of you, but I am going to have to insist that you come with us, please."

My masked eyes flicked to the guns. "Are those to… encourage us?" I asked with a trace of a growl.

"You could think of them in that way," he smiled. "I'm sure it won't come to that."

I started to reply when my ears flicked again. "Behind us," I said quietly to Ladybug, reverting to French. "Go. I'll hold them off."

"I'm not-"

"Go," I said. "I need you to get them to safety." I smiled at her. "Besides, this is what I do best."

She looked at me and nodded. "Be careful," she said softly.

Switching back to English, I took a step forward; as I expected, many of the guns shifted toward me. "Hey—hey!" I said, paws out and ears up. "We're all friends here, right? Take it easy, folks. Let's talk about this," I continued, stepping further forward and getting more of those nasty looking weapons aiming at me.

Ladybug used my distraction to whip around and grab Carapace and Rena; the three of them leapt over the edge of the rooftop and through the portal Pegasus had opened on the street below. As pandemonium broke out on the rooftop, I moved forward a bit more to place myself in the path of the swarming soldiers.

I was rewarded with a bolt of something from one of those ray-guns; in a fraction of a second, my world went completely dark.