Seventy: Blended Family

Chat deals with Ladybug suddenly inheriting the responsibilities of being Guardian of the Miraculous and the unexpected surprises that come along for the ride.


"I'm not sure I like this," I said.

I was standing next to our breakfast bar in the apartment, arms crossed against the black fabric of my costume and tail twitching rather angrily. My narrowed feline eyes were trained on the gramophone-cum-Miracle Box, sedately sitting next to my untouched wineglass as if it were truly just a musical device. We were only a few hours removed from the bombshell Master Fu had lobbed at us; fortunately for him, the diminutive Guardian had departed for parts unknown nearly immediately after imparting everything we needed to know about the Box, leaving our heads spinning and putting him safely out of range of the angry kitty I was rapidly becoming.

For though I agreed with Master Fu's assessment that Ladybug was more than up to the task, it felt patently unfair to dump yet one more responsibility upon her slim shoulders. I'd be there to support her, of course, but our lives were already complicated enough without worrying about leaving the balance of the Miraculous jewels unprotected when we went off to fight Hawkmoth – or other mundane matters, like, say, having to go to work. Staring at my partner, I could see by the way her masked eyes were unfocused that she was sorting through similar thoughts.

"It's too late to turn back now, I suppose," she mused.

"He could have provided a bit more instruction," I said rather exasperatedly. "I mean, are we supposed to let the other kwami out? Do we feed them, even?"

"They're not pets," Ladybug laughed. "And it's been my experience that they can leave the box and roam around a little when the mood hits them."

"Oh, lovely," I rolled my eyes. "What could possibly go wrong having tiny Gods flitting about?"

Ladybug stepped a bit closer and put a gloved hand to my arm. "Plagg and Tikki already do that," she reminded me gently. "They're pretty circumspect. I'd assume the others would be too." She paused, her blue eyes search my feline green ones. "It's not like you to be this agitated," she observed, glancing at my still-twitching tail. "What's really bothering you?"

Tapping a claw tip against my arm, I returned my attention to the box. "I'm glad it's not permanent," I said, "but am worried what happens when it does become permanent." My masked eyes returned to hers. "He all but said you were next in line. And I didn't like what he said about the transferal process."

Reaching up to smooth back a bang that was covering a corner of my mask, she nodded slowly. "Yeah," she said slowly. "This does feel like a test from him to see how I would handle the duties, doesn't it?"

"It does," I replied. "This 'temporary' babysitting will become permanent."

Ladybug smiled slightly. "Well, the upside is that I'll be a Guardian for a while."

"We'll come back to the whole anti-aging part, Milady," I said, frowning a bit. Fu had revealed, among other things, that the designated Guardian experienced a significant slowdown in the aging process, allowing them to be paired to the box for many decades. It allowed forging a deep connection to the kwami within, all the more important given how that would hone the ability to pick well-matched holders for each of the jewels. Ladybug had already begun that process, however unwittingly, by selecting the first set of permanent holders beyond the two of us; they formed the core five that she could call on when needed without having to first stop at Master Fu's apartment.

While the anti-aging benefit concerned me a bit – notably because while Ladybug would essentially freeze at whatever age Fu handed the box to her, I would continue to age – my real issue was with the second bombshell he'd dropped. I frowned deeper. "Master Fu was pretty clear that transferring the Guardian duties would magically remove all knowledge of the Box and any holder's identities." I put my paws to her arms. "When the time comes for you to hand over the Box to someone new, you'll forget all about me. About us."

"How could I ever forget you, kitty?" she asked lightly, seeing, perhaps, the fear in my eyes.

"When magic is involved, easily," I replied morosely.

"It could be years before that happens," Ladybug said softly. "Years of a life we will have lived together, while protecting Paris or anywhere else we have to travel to keep the world safe. It's a small price to pay, isn't it?"

"Milady!" I choked. "It's a huge price to pay! Too high if you ask me."

Caressing the side of my face with her gloved hand, she smiled softly. "Maybe," she sighed. "But if it means I get to spend every minute of every hour of the rest of my life with you, I will happily pay it. And pay it again if need be."

I blinked back a tear, somewhat ashamed that my partner had to remind me in her own little way what it meant to be a hero. Sacrifices were part of what it took for the wider good, and both of us had willingly sighed up when the chance had appeared. Maybe my initial attraction toward becoming Chat Noir had started for selfish reasons, but I knew I'd long since grown out of them to become the partner my lady had always known was beneath the magical black leather. My masked eyes flicked back to the box again.

"All right," I smiled slightly. "I suppose this is good training for when we have kittens."

"That's one way to look at it," Ladybug replied, a trace of humor in her voice.

"So, what do we do now? I can't imagine we should leave this unprotected when we go to work."

"First," she said, turning back to the box and idly twirling her yo-yo, "I think I want dinner. And maybe a long, hot bath to consider my options. Though not necessarily in that order." Her masked visage turned slightly toward me, merriment dancing in her eyes. "I'd ask you to join me in the tub, but I know how cats hate water."

"I remind you I have my Aqua Mode power up, Milady," I pointed out as I moved around the bar and into the kitchen, thinking about what I had on hand for ingredients. "But why don't you go ahead and soak? It'll take me a bit to rustle up something for dinner, anyway, and you could do with a bit of peaceful bliss before we decide on next steps." I put a claw to my chin. "Assuming Hawkmoth gives us the evening off."

"You'd better stay transformed, then," she smiled a bit slyly.

I cocked my head at her. "Are you saying that as the Hero of Paris, worried about protecting the city? Or as my fiancé, who wants to ogle me a bit over dinner?"

"Does there have to be a difference?" she laughed as she turned and headed for her suite.

I watched her fabulous form slip into the room beyond, then saw the flash of detransformation momentarily fill the room with red-and-white light. Once my feline ears heard the water running in the garden tub, I returned to my task, opening various cabinets on my hunt for something I could turn into a repast worthy of the name. Having not gone to the open-air market in a few days, I was left with few fresh vegetables or meat, and sighed. For being a cat, I was coming up short in providing for my pride.

"When in doubt," I sighed again as I went to the pantry and retrieved angel hair pasta, canned sauce and an armful of spices to make it better, "make spaghetti."

"That sounds good," came a tiny voice from behind me.

My feline reflexes managed to keep the bottle of sauce from crashing to the floor as I whirled; the source of the voice was a very familiar petite kwami. "Mullo!"

"Hey, Chat."

"It's not good policy for a mouse to sneak up on a feline," I reminded the tiny god, my feline eyes flicking to the Miracle Box just behind the kwami. "Where did you come from?"

"I got the short straw," it said, a slight smile on it's cute face. "What time is dinner?"


I'm baaaaaack! Thanks for waiting while I worked through my NaNoWriMo 2020 project. If you want a sneak peek at what I was working on, check out my Tumblr ( epcot97) where I will drop bits and pieces as I begin the oh-so-much-fun editing process. -ep