Four: Café

The text message came in from an unknown number, and Marinette quite nearly didn't open it. Ten days into her exile from what had been her life, though, she was feeling a bit like a woman willing to throw caution to the wind, even if it was something as potentially innocuous as a spam message imploring her to purchase a timeshare in Nice. To her surprise, though, she discovered it was anything but.

Unknown Nbr: Princess, text me back if you get this message. CN

Smiling, she added the number to her contacts and then tapped out a response.

Marinette: You have a phone?

Chat: Of course I do – how else do you think Ladybug gets ahold of me?

That made Marinette frown.

Mari: You didn't just give me your top-secret baton number, did you?

Chat: Uh…

Chat: No, absolutely not.

Mari: You are such a terrible liar.

Chat: That much is true. But I trust you.

Mari: I'll keep it safe. To what do I owe this honor?

Chat: I can't get away from my non-superhero-gig in time to pick you up tonight...

The wave of sadness that Chat was actually cancelling on her was unexpected, so much so that she'd only partially tapped in her response when Chat finished his thought.

Chat: …so, I'm sending an Uber to take you to our secret rendezvous.

Marinette deleted her original response and started over.

Mari: It's not much of a secret if we're using an Uber, Chat.

Chat: Don't worry, they won't know I paid for it.

Mari: How on earth-?

Chat: I am a wily black cat.

Mari: Okay... I find that intriguing.

Chat: I'm sorry that I'll have to meet you there. See you tonight!

Mari: Looking forward to it.

After having hardly anything to look forward to for a while, the anticipation of spending the evening out of her small studio apartment excited her to no end; that she would be spending it with Chat tamped down her enthusiasm a little, because she continued to worry about where things were going with her kitty. A visit here or there was fine, and easily dealt with; a one-night stand, a bit harder, but she'd gotten through it. Accepting his invitation to dinner appreciably upped the stakes a bit, especially given how the two of them had danced around whether it was an actual date.

She also tried to convince herself that she'd picked out her favorite evening dress simply because it had been some time since she'd been on the town, not because she knew – or strongly suspected – a certain feline would be unable to keep his masked eyes off her. Those wonderfully gorgeous green feline eyes that she hadn't been able to stop thinking about since the night they'd spent together. The one where he'd taken care of her in ways she didn't know she needed.

Marinette saw her face start to flame in the small bathroom mirror, the memories of the evening washing over her once more with enough force she paused her efforts to wrangle her hair into small bun. Damn, she thought ruefully as she took a deep, steadying breath, so much for having gotten through it.

Her phone beeped in that moment, notifying her the Uber driver had just pulled up to her building. It was something of a well-timed godsend, allowing her to focus on putting the final touches on her hair and makeup, pushing thoughts of Chat to the side for the moment. A part of her didn't truly want to delve too deeply into why he never seemed to be far from her thoughts these days; maybe it wasn't all that strange after all, given how frequently Ladybug and Chat Noir were summoned to dispense with Hawkmoth's latest plan to raze Paris in search of whatever it was he truly wanted. And yet, if she were being truly honest with herself, the little box she'd long used to compartmentalize all things about her partner felt like it had been breached, spilling its contents into her personal life far more than she was prepared to admit.

And that was perhaps the most troubling aspect of all.

The phone chirped again, and she hurriedly tied the bun off, spritzed a tiny amount of perfume, and then whisked out of the apartment and down to the street, stuffing poor Tikki into her small handbag as she went. Pausing at the door to the building, though, she felt her jaw drop; Chat had said he'd rented an Uber, but the sleek black limousine sitting at the curb didn't match anything she'd expected. Had the chauffeur not been standing by the rear passenger door holding a tablet with PRINCESS blazing in white all-capital letters, she might have walked up and down the block looking for something more appropriate – even in her terribly uncomfortable heels. Which she was now wondering why she'd chosen.

Weren't they just going to a café? she wondered before reminding herself she'd chosen an evening dress for the occasion.

"Mademoiselle?" the very proper driver asked. "Monsieur Noir bids you a good evening," he continued at her nod as he pulled open the door for her.

"I bet he does," she said as she slid into the rear.

The tinted windows of the limousine did little more than allow the lights of the city to flash by as they drove away; curious as to where they might be going, she slid her phone out of her handbag and punched up the mapping software, then watched with some amazement as the driver deftly navigated the city streets, avoiding many of the more notorious choke points even at that late hour of the day. Even so, it took a good forty minutes before they arrived at a small café half a block from the Trocadero Gardens; it made her smile slightly, for it was a café Chat had spoken of rather frequently to Ladybug as one of many places they could hang out together – should she so choose. Which, of course, she hadn't. As the door was opened for her once more, she thought about the irony surrounding the fact Chat had managed to finally get Ladybug there.

Nodding to the driver, she crossed the sidewalk to the host stand that was set up just beside the double doors leading to the main dining area; small two- and four-top tables stretched a bit outside the massive plate glass window, and there was not a space to be had. Looking without trying to look like she was looking, Marinette failed to spy a pair of feline ears in the crowd before turning her smile on the young woman at the pedestal.

"Hi," she began. "This is going to sound a bit strange, but I'm here to meet someone..."

The woman smiled warmly. "You must be Princess Marinette," she said. "He's been waiting for you."

"I'm not sure about the 'Princess' part," Marinette replied, "but I am Marinette."

"Well, it's good that he finally has someone at last," she said matter-of-factly. Holding her hand out, she pointed toward the door. "This way, please."

Nonplussed, Marinette stood rooted to her spot. "Wait - he's here frequently? Alone?"

The hostess paused. "Frequently? No, maybe three times a year? I always had the impression he was either celebrating a milestone... or a passing."

And that was the most Marinette was able to get out of the hostess before they dove into the noisy crowd within; they made a beeline to a small door at the back, which gave to a stairwell. Three flights up, Marinette was seriously questioning her choice of footwear, but pushed through the pain and the door at the top, behind which was the roof of the small café. In the center of everything was a table set for two, upon which a small vase containing a single long stem rose was holding down a pure white tablecloth.

Chat was sitting in the far chair and stood at her entrance, quickly making his way around the table to pull out her chair. "Princess," he fairly purred as she put her handbag on the table and sat down. "You look amazing this evening."

"Thank you," she smiled as he slid the chair in for her. "I see you dressed for the occasion."

He chuckled as he settled back in on his side of the table, but not before tapping his bell with a claw. "I thought gold and black was appropriate."

"I have to admit, it is," she smiled.

Between the lights from the city and the small sets of candles that had been set up around them in tasteful groupings, there was plenty of light for her to read the menu the hostess provided; the young woman withdrew once she'd taken their orders, but not before promising a bottle of wine was forthcoming. Once she knew they were alone, Marinette looked at Chat.

"You said an Uber."

He grinned a bit sheepishly. "I got a bit carried away," he admitted. "You know I think of you as a princess, and that made me realize you needed to arrive in a style as befitting royalty." He paused, those slightly glowing green feline eyes narrowing slightly. "And you did dress the part, too."

"I suppose I did," she laughed. "It's been so long since I've gone out, I wanted to shake the moths out of my wardrobe."

"I'm glad you did," he said softly. "You do look... meowvelous."

Marinette groaned. Loudly. "Oh, Chat," she laughed. "You were doing so good there, too."

He smiled at her, slightly nonplussed and, she was amazed to see, flushing with embarrassment. "It's a hard habit to break," he replied quietly. "I've punned for so long now... well, I'm sorry. But I really meant it."

Mari looked at him closely, and realized he was being sincere; there was nothing beyond an honest appreciation of the woman sitting before him, which suddenly made her heart pound in her chest. And her face heat up. "Thank you," she replied quietly.

In a flash, Chat was by her side. "Mari - what's wrong?" he asked, taking her hand into his paw. "Are you feeling okay? Your pulse is racing."

Groaning inwardly, she belatedly realized his feline senses had picked up on her turmoil. "Nothing - nothing, I'm fine," she replied, smiling weakly while attempting to get her heart back into a normal rhythm through sheer force of will. "I think the moment just overwhelmed me there."

"It... did?" he asked, confusion reigning across his masked face.

Oh, kitty, she thought. You really don't have any idea how this all works, do you?

"Can I ask you a personal question?" she nearly whispered. "Have you ever actually dated someone?"

Releasing her hand, and despite their location, Chat settled beside her in his patient-cat stance and looked at Marinette, cocking his head slightly. "No," he said softly. "Not really. Certainly not as Chat," he added ruefully. "You have, though, haven't you?"

"I have," she nodded, then nodded to the table. "This is a date, Chat. Is that... is that what you wanted? Or intended?"

The feline looked away. "Maybe," he said so softly she had to strain to hear him. "Would you be... okay with that?"

Marinette started to say that she wasn't - how could she be? He was one of the Heroes of Paris, for crying out loud, and had no business pursuing a relationship with a civilian. And the last thing she needed was to try and tap dance around the part of her life she would always need to hide from him; she knew Chat well enough that if he hung around Marinette long enough, he'd pick up one too many breadcrumbs and guess the truth.

And yet, when Chat turned to face her once more, she saw a reflection of her own loneliness and realized her partner had become as much a prisoner of his Miraculous as she had; she could easily read in his eyes the slight trace of desperation, speaking to more than one attempt to break through, only to have to retreat behind the walls of the castle. How well she understood that; more, Marinette began to realize the incredible leap of faith he had made that night with her, the hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd found something he could hold on to.

She had badly misjudged her partner. The incessant flirting had been hiding a very real desire to connect with the only other person who knew exactly what he had been going through. And she had pushed him away... for years.

No longer.

"Yes," she replied, taking her own leap of faith. "I would be. You?"

Chat smiled. "More than you could ever know."

Marinette leaned down to get her nose lined up with his. "I wouldn't be too sure of that," she smiled. "And I've never dated a superhero before. I have no idea how this will work."

"We'll figure it out," Chat replied. "Together."

Marinette leaned closer and kissed Chat on the tip of his nose. "Together."