Six: Midnight

"Have you ever heard of the term, 'Angel Investor?'"

Chat watched Marinette's face expectantly and for once was frustratingly unable to still his tail; the excitement over what he was about to propose to her was reflected in how restless it was, swishing back and forth over the edge of the girder. He was reasonably sure Marinette had gotten pretty good at reading his emotions from the various nonverbal feline cues he wasn't always able to manage, and for once, cursed slightly at how many feline traits he inherited while transformed. Then again, it wouldn't surprise him to learn that Plagg himself might have had a hand in preventing him from maintaining perfect control that evening; the impish kwami had unexpectedly been just as excited as his holder at the plan the two of them had cooked up.

So much time had been lost while he'd been dancing the dance with Ladybug!

Why had it taken that one night for him to realize how he truly felt about Marinette? It had always been there, of course, but he'd been blinded by his pursuit of the bug heroine – foolishly blinded, as Plagg had only been too eager to point out as recently as that morning – that he'd set aside the clear signs that his closest friend wanted something more. For real. Chat had a lot to make up for it seemed, and he furvently hoped his idea would be a small step in the right direction. Seeing how Gabriel Agreste had treated her had burned him to the core; while not one normally bent on revenge, he did feel that the scales of fairness needed to be balanced.

Who better to do it than a Hero of Paris? That was, like, his job description after all; if he managed to pull it off, then he'd tackle how to apologize for ten years of almost willful neglect.

One problem at a time.

"I have," Marinette replied. "Why do you ask?"

The lights from the city spread out below their perch high atop the Eiffel Tower, a favorite spot Chat often retreated to when he needed time to regroup after a particularly difficult day. He'd never shared with Ladybug how much it took out of him to keep her safe – nor would he ever do so; still, after a while, the mental angst at not doing enough for her or for Paris would begin to wear him down. An hour or two just chilling as Paris slept peacefully beneath his boots always recharged his batteries enough to face another day of the worst from Hawkmoth. Or his father; there were times when they nearly felt interchangeable.

Chat pulled himself closer to Marinette and hugged her to his chest. "As it turns out, I happen to know one who would be willing to seed your new startup."

"Startup? Of what?"

"Midnight," he smiled, "a global fashion company."

Marinette blinked at him. "Chat, I already told you – I have a non-compete agreement with House of Gabriel."

Chat smiled and desperately tried to keep his tail from moving; he couldn't truly reveal how he knew what he was about to tell her, and had rehearsed what he was going to say on the way over to her apartment that evening. He'd also need to lean on a few model tricks to keep him from giving too much away – tricks that was discovering weren't always entirely useful for a feline.

"I did some digging into that non-compete they made you sign," he started. "It's not quite as bad as you might think."

"It seemed pretty awful from my perspective," Marinette replied dourly. "Ten years before I can introduce any designs of my own. That's an eternity in the fashion industry." She looked at him and narrowed her eyes. "How do you know the details of the agreement?" Marinette asked. "It's supposed to be confidential."

"I am a wily black cat," he reminded her, cocking his head slightly as he smiled. "I have my ways."

"Were they legal?"

"Absolutely," Chat replied honestly.

He carefully omitted the fact that a few weeks after she'd told him about the non-compete agreement, his alter-ego had (maybe) let a young admin in Human Resources incorrectly assume Adrien was asking her to retrieve the employment agreement for Marinette on behalf of his father. He didn't normally use his charm for nefarious purposes, but in the case of Marinette and her wrongful termination, he'd channeled Chat and considered it justifiable. In between his patrols with Ladybug and increasing number of nights spent with Marinette, Chat had poured over the contract, finally having a reason to put his alter-ego's hard-earned Business degree to good use. The surprise had been buried in the footnotes, but he'd needed to be sure he'd correctly puzzled out the legalese. Deciding it would be unwise to go to a lawyer as Adrien, Chat had gotten creative and dropped in on the million-album-selling artist who also happened to be his alter-ego's best friend.

Nino's wife had shifted from her earlier desire to be a journalist and instead had decided to become a lawyer in order to help handle the DJ's burgeoning empire. It didn't hurt that Alya had a soft spot for Chat; once she heard what the feline was trying to do for his girlfriend, she was all in and had quickly confirmed what Adrien had discovered – and that she would help Chat with the rest of his plans, should Marinette agree.

"So it's true that you are banned from the fashion industry for ten years," he continued, before adding very, very quietly: "In Paris."

"Well," she sighed. "I'm not sure what you think you found-wait, say that again...?"

The feline nodded sagely. "Ten years... in Paris."

A smile crept onto Marinette's face. "Are you kidding? I mean, that's insanely specific."

"It is, but it's also the one place House of Gabriel fears you the most."

"Still, I'm not exactly sure how that helps me. If I can't sell my designs here-"

"You sell it everywhere else," Chat finished as he reached over and pushed back a lock of hair that the wind at that height had loosened from one of pigtails. "Simple as that."

Marinette looked at him. "I'm not leaving Paris," she said firmly. "My family is here. You're here."

"All true." He smiled a bit more, almost feeling like he was toying with a mouse; he suddenly flashed back to when Ladybug had granted Marinette the Mouse Miraculous and grinned wider at how cute she'd been as a rodent-themed hero.

Marinette caught the look in his eyes and narrowed hers. "I've seen that look before."

"What look?" he replied, the perfect picture of feline innocence.

"The one where you're about to pounce. Spill it."

Leaning down, he kissed her on the cheek. "There's this thing called the 'internet.' I don't know if you've heard of it-meowch!" he cried out when Marinette punched him in the arm. "What was that for?"

"Leading me on," she said, trying to look upset but failing miserably. "That's an amazingly good idea," she continued, cupping the side of his masked face with her hand. "I'd thought about going web-based when I was in college, even did some research into how to set up something, but House of Gabriel snapped me up before I had a chance."

"I figured you probably had," he said.

"Now I just don't have the resources to pull it off – or web server outside of France to host my store, for that matter..."

"And I also figured that, too," Chat smiled wider. "Hence your new Angel Investor."

"And who might that be? Exactly?"

"I'm not allowed to divulge their name," Chat said, trying his best to keep his face impassive; unfortunately, his traitorous tail betrayed him with an especially jovial snap that caught Marinette's attention.

Her eyes narrowed again. "Chat... what did you do?"

"Me?" he replied, putting a paw to his chest. "Nothing, other than allowing your investor to pick the name of the company. If," he asked very quietly, "you are okay with it."

She considered him for a long moment, the reached to his face again. "You really want to do this, kitty?" she asked softly.

"More than anything," Chat replied instantly before his eyes widened at his accidental admission. "Oops."

Marinette smiled slightly. "Gotcha."

Chat felt his face flame slightly – he'd tried so hard to keep his excitement in check.

"Angel investor indeed," she sighed. "One who happens to also have feline ears. I won't ask how you did it."

"Probably wise," he smiled sheepishly, knowing that was one secret he'd not be able to divulge quite yet. Alya had agreed to set up a blind bank account that would allow Chat to channel his alter-ego's earnings to Marinette anonymously, though it did also mean an indefinite extension of Adrien's modelling career. That Gabriel Agreste would also be subsidizing the whole enterprise was nearly too delicious not to share, but there would be a time and place. "A cat has to have some secrets," he whispered as he kissed her again.

"You could lose everything, Chat," Marinette said softly, the concern on her face once more.

"I know you, Princess," he replied. "You'll be successful beyond your wildest dreams, and I'll be right here with you making sure it happens." Chat kissed her again on the cheek. "I told you we'd figure this out together."

"I thought you meant the whole dating thing," Marinette chuckled. "Not starting a new web-based business."

"The Americans have a phrase for this," he smiled. "'In for a pound, in for a penny.' I wouldn't have it any other way."

She chuckled again. "Seriously? Well, all right then. But that name - Midnight? Really?"

"Why not?" he laughed. "It's just a mysterious as your benefactor was trying to be. Besides, I thought Dupain-Cheng Designs might draw a little too much attention."

"Let me think about it," she smiled before looking at him for a moment. "Then again… yeah," she smiled as she reached up to tap his bell. "You know what? I think it will work. And," she smiled wider as she leaned up and rubbed a feline ear, "I think I know what my logo will be."

Chat struggled to stay in the moment. "Really?" he said, suppressing a gasp.

"Yeah. If you are a good kitty and take me home, I'll tell you, too."

He didn't have to be told twice.