Two: Ghibli

The gentle warmth of the early morning sunshine against her skin was what woke Marinette from the best sleep she'd had in months. Blinking against the brilliance, she took a moment to luxuriate in the sense of peace that had enveloped her soul – peace that was immediately shattered when she saw the empty pillow beside her; aside from the slight dent where Chat's out-of-control mane had been when she'd finally dozed off, the only other trace the feline had even been there were the slight tears in the sheet where his claws had become snagged. Marinette smiled slightly at the memory of how embarrassed he had been, even going so far as to promise a full replacement set of bedclothes. How the superhero would pull that off was beyond her, but it had been somewhat endearing of Chat to have even made the offer.

Still, the fact that he was gone in the light of day told her something.

Sighing, she sat up a bit and pulled the sheet around her, squinting into the sun at what she could see of her patio from the bedroom – although bedroom was something of a euphemism, given it was just a small area of the studio apartment that she had portioned off with a decorative screen her mother had given her. Not that she needed the privacy; strictly speaking, it had been… a while… since she'd had a gentleman caller, and she was sure that was why her reactions to Chat's careful ministrations had been so intense. And he had been thorough; after his initial hesitation, Chat had thrown himself fully into ensuring Marinette got what she needed.

There had been a few surprises along the way, including discovering the zipper on his costume was, in fact, fully functional, or that the careful application of a claw tip could drive her completely insane. Lightly rubbing one of his feline ears between her fingers seemed to reduce the finely chiseled superhero into a purring kitten, and that tail of his was far more capable of independent movement than she'd ever realized; she'd bear that in mind next time.

Not that there would ever be a next time.

Sighing, she realized dating anyone was problematic, given her Ladybug duties; for all those reasons and more, whatever had taken place with Chat had to be a one off by definition. Still, she found herself oddly disappointed that she'd not woken up with him by her side, slight smile beneath those damn attractive green eyes, welcoming her to the morning. Sighing again, she snagged an overly large t-shirt she normally used as nightwear from the small nightstand and slid it over her head, then trudged out into the kitchen to make herself breakfast.

And stopped dead in her tracks.

The kitchen wasn't hardly more than a sink, stove and fridge, with a small microwave huddled on the majority of the countertop; what space was left had been filled to overflowing with bags and boxes bearing the logo of her parent's bakery. Moving closer, she could see the oven was on but set to low, and a quick peek inside revealed a full Quiche Lorraine on the lower rack and a half-dozen fresh croissants on the upper. Further investigation of the bags found two takeaway containers, one of fruit salad and the other holding two dozen macarons. One box had been for the quiche, but the other held a freshly baked carrot cake, with her favorite cream cheese icing.

Stepping back in awe, she realized with a start that Chat seemed to know her far better than she realized, having managed to somehow get his gloved hands on what only she would think of as comfort food. That he would even consider she'd need further comfort the morning after what they had done gave her great pause, especially given her initial reaction at his absence. Then again, it was Chat she was dealing with – of course he would still be attuned to her current mental anguish. For the first time, she wondered what she might have unleashed in that one rash moment the prior evening.

"Good morning."

The quiet voice made her turn toward the patio door, which stood open; blinking against the sunshine, she finally saw the figure of Chat Noir sitting along the railing as only he could do, one leg up to his chin, tail gently swishing from side to side. He had his back to her, but one feline ear had twisted in the general direction of the kitchen, clearly having caught her movements. She moved to the door, then after hesitating, moved to stand beside him.

"You're still here," she heard herself say.

A slight smile played at his lips, but he continued to look out across the city; only then did she notice he had a takeaway cup of coffee in a gloved hand, one that bore the logo of her parent's bakery. "Contrary to what you may have heard about me, I don't normally do… this," he replied carefully.

The slight note of embarrassment in his voice pulled at Marinette's heart; prudently, she decided not to point out that it clearly hadn't been his first rodeo. Then again, it hadn't been hers, either, but for some reason she'd naively assumed Chat was waiting for Ladybug. That he hadn't somehow bothered her, though was it even possible to be jealous of her civilian alter-ego? And why would she be, given all the years Ladybug had pushed Chat away? Her brain hurt when it reminded her Ladybug and Marinette were one and the same, secret identities notwithstanding. It took a moment for her to realize Chat was still speaking.

"…and it felt wrong leaving without saying goodbye." He turned to look at her, those strangely exotic feline eyes watching her closely. "Especially given what we did last night."

"Yeah…" she replied softly. "About that."

"Ah," Chat said, smiling wryly. "Well. You did finally get some rest, which you looked like you needed; I'm glad I could help in my own way."

Memories of being curled into her purring partner flashed into her head, and she felt herself flushing slightly. "Chat—"

"I picked up some stuff for breakfast," he continued. "I wasn't sure what you might want, so it's a little of everything."

"It's exactly what I would want," she replied softly. "I can't believe you went all the way to my parent's bakery! It's clear on the other side of Paris from here."

The feline-themed superhero laughed. "Well, I may not be as fast as Kiki, but Chat's Delivery Service has pretty decent magic."

Marinette's eyes widened. "You know Miyazaki?"

"Studio Ghibli is one of my favorites," he nodded, his mane shifting as he moved. "Among others."

Turning her head slightly, Marinette felt herself smiling. "You never struck me as someone who would watch animated movies."

"Mademoiselle," he said with mock affront, "I am a multi-faceted feline."

"Clearly," she said thoughtfully. "You'll stay for breakfast?" she asked.

Chat arched a masked eyebrow. "If you'd like."

"I would," she smiled, and then paused, for as he had turned, the sun had caught the slight haze of stubble along his cheeks. Before she knew what she was doing, she'd reached up and run her finger along his chin, feeling the rasp of his beard beneath her touch. "I've never seen you with whiskers," she said softly.

Chat grinned a bit sheepishly. "I've never been transformed long enough to grow them," he replied, before getting a mischievous look to his feline eyes. "You act as though you've never seen a cat with them before."

"Certainly not this Chat," she laughed. "It looks… good on you," she added, though she wasn't sure why she felt compelled to do so.

"Thanks," he replied as he slipped off the railing to stand beside her. "I'll have to shave before - well, after I leave," he amended, careful not to reveal anything.

She looked at Chat. "You have an apartment?"

He blinked. "Of course I do," he smiled. "Why?"

Slowly she shook her head. "I guess… I never thought about the fact you might have a life outside of the mask." Like I do, she added mentally.

"I do," Chat grinned as he followed her back into the apartment. "It's not as glamorous as being the number two designer at House of Gabriel, but it's a life."

"Former," Marinette sighed.

"Former?" Chat echoed, before turning her to face him. His eyes were full of concern, reading in her expression the agony of losing her dream position. "I wondered why you weren't up and about like normal businesspeople on a weekday." His feline eyes flicked to the numbers on the digital clock on the microwave, which Marinette could clearly see were well beyond the normal start of her day at Gabriel's side.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I find myself with an unexpected amount of time on my hands."

"How about this," he said thoughtfully, raking a claw along his chin. "Let me take care of a few things, and then I'll be back – in maybe an hour?" he asked. "I'm not sure you should be by yourself today."

Seeing the wheels turning behind his masked eyes worried Marinette, making her wonder if he had drawn some inappropriate conclusions about where they stood with each other based on a single night of intimacy. Glancing to the food on the counter, she saw what he had done in a different light; channeling Ladybug, she knew she had to head him off at the pass. Steeling herself, she smiled at her partner.

"I'll be fine, Chat," Marinette said firmly. "Last night was wonderful on many levels, but I just need some time to regroup." She paused, then added before she could think twice: "Alone."

Ever the gentlemen, his expression remained pleasantly neutral; only through her years of having him fight by her side was she able to catch the brief flattening of his feline ears, or the quick twist of his tail, both tells that she had verbally gut-punched him. "Of course, Princess," he replied smoothly, picking up her hand and briefly pressing his lips to it. "Until we meet again."

In a quick motion, he leapt from her side and through the open French door, hit the railing, then vaulted out into the early morning sunshine, gone in a slight whisper of fabric before she could say another word.