Sixty-Five: Pushing
As the wedding draws nearer, Chat works overtime to keep Marinette from doing the same but doesn't entirely realize he's just as worn out as his fiancé...
"She's not seen this?"
Nino was standing on a raised stool in the middle of what used to be our living room, staring into a three-way mirror. As Marinette had gotten further into her preparations for the wedding, we'd given the space a mini-makeover; gone was all of the carefully selected furniture, replaced by the paraphernalia Marinette required for her efforts, from my early birthday present (which had pride of place over in the original design studio part of the room) to numerous pattern dummies with outfits in various stages of completion. Given it was a zero-sum game, all of the furniture had been crowded into my suite, making it virtually impossible to use save for the pathway I'd carved out in order to get to the balcony for my superhero exits.
I wasn't exactly upset at the turn of events, as Marinette had happily informed me there was plenty of space in her suite for a kitty to curl up and get some sleep. My masked eyes flicked forlornly in that direction from where I was perched atop the breakfast bar, for she'd only made good on her offer the first two nights of what was looking more and more like an Ironman Triathlon; we were now on our fifth all-nighter, racing against the intractable deadline of the wedding in less than a week. Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I could almost feel the softness of her body against mine-
"No." Marinette's clipped voice snapped my eyes wide open, renewing my concern that she was pushing herself too far.
"Princess," I said softly as I glanced at the clock over the oven. It was hard not to groan, for it was well after one in the morning. "Maybe we should call it a night?"
Marinette was on her knees, pinning the greenish fabric of his trousers at the correct hem and looked up at his reflection, mouth full of sharp instruments. "Not yet," she replied. "I need to get this pinned and then do the sleeves, and then we'll take a look at the vest."
"Mari—"
"Chat, get down from the counter. And why are you still transformed?" she asked irritably.
Sliding off the counter, I tried to stifle a yawn. "Am I transformed?" I asked cheekily. "Maybe your sleep deprived brain is seeing what it wants to see: a sexy feline waiting to spirit you away—"
"Chat."
This time I couldn't help the massive yawn that threatened to dislocate my jaw. I could see that Nino was flagging as well; he was being a good sport, but I knew he had to be as exhausted as the rest of us. He'd been in the apartment since dinner, save for the three-hour akuma interruption we'd had to deal with. Hawkmoth wasn't cutting us any slack. As I watched Marinette turn Nino to check the length of the hems, it occurred to me that we'd had more than our normal share of superhero call-outs. If the past was prologue, that meant Hawkmoth was heading into a manic period that would likely conflict with the wedding.
Watching Marinette's bloodshot eyes as she stood and then began fussing with the rather form-fitting shirt in a complimentary green, I decided it might be best not to bring up that particular observation. Instead, I stepped a bit closer. "How on earth did you screen print the hexagonal pattern so quickly?" I asked as I ran the fabric through my claw-tipped fingers.
"Three-dimensional printing, actually," she said as she straightened one of Nino's arms and started pinning a sleeve. "Much like the outfit I did for you at Christmas." Without looking at me, she added tartly, "Mind the claws. I don't have enough fabric if you cause a run."
I dropped the sleeve as if it were radioactive. "Well, if you're going to keep going, maybe I can get—"
The unfortunate sound of fabric tearing filled the room, and Nino gulped audibly. "I'm sorry!" he started. "I was looking at the pattern-"
"Stop moving!" Marinette said crossly before muttering a curse and swiftly twisting Nino around to repair the damage from where he'd torn the other sleeve from the shoulder. Cursing again, louder this time, she slid the fabric back into place and started to re-pin it. "Keep this up and I'm never going to get the outfits for the wedding party complete," she added irritably.
My masked eyes widened. "Princess, I think we need to take a break," I suggested, eyes darting to the oven clock again before I gently pulled her away from Nino. Turning her toward me, I could see the smudge of exhaustion beneath each eye as I brushed away a bang. "You need a break," I said firmly. "I'm putting you to bed. Nino can return tonight?" I said, my masked eyes catching his grateful nod. "But in the meantime, you need to rest. Otherwise you'll make a mistake."
"Chat—"
I picked her up in my arms. "Not up for debate," I replied as I carried her to the bedroom.
"But I have so much to do! I can't stop—"
"You can, and you will," I said softly as I pulled back the sheet and gently put her down. Before she could react, I'd gotten her shoes off and had swiftly pulled the sheet up to her chin. "Sleep," I commanded as I carefully tucked her in.
Despite how tired she was, Marinette fought off slumber a moment longer. "But I still need to get to Master Fu tonight," she said, yawning.
My feline ears went up. "Master Fu?" I asked. "What for?"
She yawned wider. "I don't remember now," she said. "He texted before the akuma and I completely forgot about it until just now."
Sighing inwardly, I nodded. "I'll go."
"No, I—"
I put a claw tip to her lips, then replaced it with a long kiss. "I've got this," I said, smiling to hide my own exhaustion. "Get some rest, I'll be back."
She nodded, and in moments was fast asleep.
Retreating to the main space, I quietly closed the door to the bedroom and turned to see Nino pulling his hoodie on, fully back in street clothes. "Too bad you came in the front door," I smiled. "Otherwise I'd let you use the superhero entrance."
Nino frowned. "I don't know if it's worse. Someone could get the wrong idea that Marinette is stepping out on a certain feline superhero."
"Maybe," I said soberly. "I've managed to keep a low profile, so I'm not sure if anyone knows I'm actually living with her. Here."
We fist pumped and I locked the door behind him, then weaved through my room to the balcony; launching out into the overcast night, I marveled again at how much rain the city had gotten over the past few months. It wasn't all that unusual, given historic trends, but I knew at least one cat was getting tired of being soggy during his evening patrols. Sniffing the wind as I used my baton to vault across a six-lane avenue, I couldn't detect rain in my immediate future, but the breeze did carry the promise of something by mid-morning.
More tired than I realized, I two-footed a landing and stumbled awkwardly; my feline instincts took over and I curled into a ball as I fell, rolling out into a crouch at the edge of a raised skylight. That never happens, I thought as I took stock and came up with nothing more than bruised dignity. I am going to have to try and catch a catnap myself or I won't be any better than Marinette.
Standing, I trotted into a run and leapt back into the night, adjusting my path toward Master Fu's latest location. As Guardian, he seemed exceptionally paranoid about being discovered and tended to move unexpectedly; part of me assumed his summons for Marinette was something ordinary, for he'd already dispatched her twice to his former naturopathic counseling storefront to retrieve items he'd forgotten. That had made me smile, for he was approaching the two-century mark; I figured we could spot him a tea set or two.
Fu's new roost was exactly that, a small studio apartment with a generous rooftop patio at the top of one of the older blocks of the city. It frankly made it far easier for us to drop in on him undetected, allowing us to forgo having to detransform before heading to his home. I wasn't surprised to see the lights were on as I approached, for it seemed to me the wizened Guardian never actually slept. For the first time, I was starting to be jealous of that particular talent.
Landing on what he had affectionately called the Chat Perch, I swung around the iron pipe and landed in my crouch against the bamboo flooring of the patio. Fu wasn't out tending his raised garden, though as I stood, I could tell he'd been working on something else for the workbench had his iPad open and next to other massive books; a half-full teacup sat beside it, though when I leaned down to sniff it, I could tell the ginseng liquid was still hot – it had been poured recently.
"Master Fu?" I called out, suddenly finding myself a bit unnerved.
Sniffing the air, it occurred to me what was missing: the mélange of botanical scents I associated with Fu were nowhere to be found. Sniffing more deliberately, I became more concerned and dropped into my tensed-for-battle stance, for it was clear he'd been absent from the space for some time. Long enough that his personal scent had thinned to the point of being undetectable.
Baton now in hand and extended slightly, I crept around and through the wide-open patio door to the main part of the apartment. The space was perfectly in order, from the tidy sleeping mat he preferred in the corner to the spotless kitchenette with nary a dish in the sink save for the still-warm teapot on the sideboard. My masked eyes landed on the gramophone atop a small buffet table, and felt my ears prick upward at the thought Master Fu would have left the Miraculous Box unguarded.
Maybe he stepped away for a moment? I thought. This tea is still hot, so he's not been gone long.
The burst of adrenaline from finding the space empty started to dissipate as I looked again toward the Box. I was only marginally relieved that the Box was still locked and tapped a claw tip against it to see if I could roust a kwami or two. It was a long shot, for once they were inside, they had no direct contact with the outside world short of choosing to come out; after a few moments, it was clear they'd not heard me. I briefly considered dropping my transformation and letting Plagg venture inside, but something in the back of my feline brain said that was a bad idea. For once, I listened to that tiny voice.
Still, it seemed prudent to wait for the Guardian; under the guise of whatever reason he'd summonsed Ladybug, I could at least keep an eye on things for Master Fu until he returned. A bolt of guilt shot through me at that thought, though, making me wonder if he'd wanted her to do exactly that while he ran an errand; in her pell-mell race to finish the wedding garments, she'd ignored his call.
Well, I thought as I moved to the center of the room and went into my patient cat stance, I'm here now. Hopefully he won't be gone too much longer.
As I sat there, I started to feel the quiet solitude of the space and began to realize a bit more why Master Fu had chosen this particular spot. Despite how much I wanted to remain a vigilant sentinel, I felt my masked eyes close and just let the space flow over me for a bit, falling into something close to the centering activity I often used as a model to get into whatever character/mood/attitude the photographer was expecting. From time to time it had helped me figure out a particularly thorny akuma, too.
Sitting quietly, save for the occasional tail flick, the room began to speak to my feline. Small things appeared, such as the quiet rustle of the leaves on the patio brushing the wall or the gurgle of the small refrigerator as it hummed to life. I began to pick up the faint whiff of the incense Master Fu used, thin enough that it had been used many hours earlier; then, slowly, the faintest of faint traces of frankincense appeared.
Frankincense?
My feline eyes snapped open and turned in the direction of the thread of scent, and there, where I was sure it had not been a moment earlier was the steamer trunk of a Miracle Box we'd located some weeks earlier. It looked pretty much as it had when we'd found it, and yet I had somehow missed it. Leaning forward out of my cat crouch, I moved toward it on all fours, feline curiosity fully aroused.
"How did I overlook you?" I asked as I warily grew closer, partially heeding the warning bells going off in the back of my fur brain.
The Box didn't reply. And yet, as before, I felt as though it knew I was there.
Without understanding why, I very much wanted to get closer to the Box; part of me knew that was a really bad idea, especially as I watched the Box crack open into a door just big enough for a human-sized feline to enter. Slowly I moved closer, enthralled by the beautiful green field I could see just beyond the opening; it looked peaceful, and spoke to the relaxation I sorely knew I needed. I reached out a paw, and extended a claw tip-
"Chat?"
My masked eyes flew open and I saw the concerned face of Master Fu hovering over me. "Master…?" I asked as I blinked again, realizing I was actually curled into a tight cat ball, head on paw.
Oh crap, I thought. Please please please tell me I didn't actually take a catnap-
"Is there a reason I've found you snoozing in my apartment?"
-damn.
Sheepishly, I pushed myself up into a seated position. "I apologize at the breach in etiquette. Ladybug sent me – she said you needed us to stop by?"
"Ah, yes," Fu replied as he closed the door and went to a cabinet in the kitchenette. Retrieving a small brown packet, he handed it to me with a smile. "Vitamin powder to offset the effects of working long hours," he explained as I turned the bag over in my paws. "Mix into water or whatever favorite beverage of choice. It'll beef up her immune system for a bit."
"Thanks," I replied, arching an eyebrow at the packet. Vitamins? This was the emergency?
I looked back to the Guardian. "Honestly, I'm sorry – I don't make a habit of sleeping in people's homes without asking, but you weren't here when I arrived…"
"So, you waited." He smiled. "I appreciate the concern, but I haven't been gone that long, Chat. I needed to pick a very specific flower from the park around the corner than only blooms twice a quarter; if I'd known you were coming at such an unusual hour, I would have left a note."
My feline eyes flicked to where I the Miracle Box had been in my dream. "That's on us. Ladybug has been somewhat… busy… working on the wedding."
"I know," he replied. "The potion will help."
"Good." I looked back at the Guardian. "Say… that Miracle Box we found… where is it?"
Fu looked inscrutable for a moment. "Safe," he replied at length.
