Four: Cheesy

Author's Note: My frequent collaborator, ChubbyUnicornMama, inserted a several lines into a co-written Roommates story we did during LadrienJune2019 that hinted at Marinette feeding Plagg behind Chat's back. There wasn't time or space to explore that further in the original piece, but the possibility of writing how Chat would react to discovering that was too good to pass up. -ep

After that initial blast of camembert, I started to smell it more frequently, especially when Marinette did the grocery shopping. The smell was bad enough when I was Adrien; as Chat, with my enhanced feline sense of smell, it was nearly nauseating. How Plagg had fallen in love with it was a mystery I couldn't fathom and didn't care to solve.

I usually picked up my everyday supply from the cheese monger at the open air market halfway across the city; I figured it would be safer to have Adrien been seen far, far away from the apartment, despite there being an equally as good shop just around the corner from us. The really, really expensive stuff I had shipped to my office at House of Gabriel, much to the consternation of the mail room. It was the first time I'd enjoyed any sort of perk to being the boss's son.

Why Marinette was purchasing cheese, though, perplexed me. We definitely hadn't been using it in any of the meals we'd been preparing. I'd wracked my feline brain trying to remember if I'd ever explained where my power came from, or that I had to feed my kwami regularly. I didn't think I had, for to any normal human being, the very concept would seem a little bit sci-fi.

One evening, though, I started to get some clues as to what might be going on.

Ladybug and I had fought off a brutal akuma just as I'd gotten off work. It had been a multi-hour affair that had leveled half of Paris; I'd even spent a portion of the battle on my own in order for Ladybug to call in our extended Team Miraculous. Even with all of them, though, it had taken most the evening to corner and then subdue the akuma, and I'd quite literally dragged my tail in through the balcony window when it was over.

After a plaintive "I'm back," hollered through the door, I didn't even wait for Marinette's response and collapsed into my bed. Having in the end used my Cataclysm, I just waited for the transformation to drop on its own and immediately fell asleep.

Waking up around one in the morning, I found I was starving, having missed dinner in the process of saving Paris. Throwing back my sheets, I called out to Plagg. "You're rubbing off of me, my friend. I'm hungry enough I might eat some of that cheese of yours."

There was no response from the corner where he normally slept, and without my night vision, in the darkness of the room I couldn't tell if he was just sound asleep. I snapped the light on by my bed and turned, and saw Plagg was not in his spot.

Only once before had he deserted me, and it had led to the same panic I was starting to feel again. "Plagg?"

I stood from the bed, and rustled through the laundry hamper, then checked my sock drawer. No Plagg.

"Plagg?" I called out again, a bit louder. I opened all of the drawers of my dresser, most of which were empty; he was likewise not in the walk-in closet or the bathroom.

Now I was starting to panic. I went to the door, but paused; I couldn't go out into the main space without my transformation. I hurried back to the closet and dug around for sweats and a hoodie I'd not worn yet, and dug through the closet further to locate the mask that was part of the faux Chat costume. It wasn't perfect but it would have to do: if Marinette was out there, we were about to have a very interesting conversation.

Holding the mask against my face with one hand, I cracked the door open with the other. The space beyond was dark, allowing the light from my room to spill out across the tile. I quietly tip-toed into the kitchen, whispering: "Plagg? Where are you?"

I made it as far as the island when I found him. Plagg was flat on his back, snoring. His tummy was as distended as I'd ever seen it, and beside his soundly slumbering form was a heap of aluminum. Taking a cautious sniff, I realized he'd gorged himself on cheese – but not my supply.

Carefully, I removed the aluminum to the trash, and then gently slid my kwami into a palm to carry him back to our bedroom. I knew we had fought hard, but this was the first time I'd seen him so exhausted. Waves of guilt washed over me again; while I had made good on my pledge to let him roam while I slept, between the time I'd spent with Marinette in the last week and the akumas Hawkmoth had thrown at us, he'd not had a lot of downtime.

I made him a bed inside the sock drawer and carefully placed him in it, then wandered back to the kitchen for coffee and cold leftovers from the fridge. The adrenaline from my mini-panic at not finding Plagg would take some time to fade, so sleep wasn't going happen anytime soon. Instead, I folded myself as close to my patient cat stance as I could as Adrien, and kept watch over my kwami as he slept.

I was about a quarter of the way through the cheese magazine Plagg favored when he rolled over and cracked an eye at me. "Why are you up?" he asked carefully. "Is there an akuma?"

"No," I said, draining the last of my coffee. "I couldn't sleep." I lifted the magazine. "There are some interesting recopies in here. Is Marinette making any for you?"

"Two of them from the April issue," he nodded sleepily. "There's also a soup I've not had in five centuries that she's agreed to try and re-create, assuming it's possible to find all of the ingredients."

"I see," I said, arching an eyebrow.

It took a moment before both of Plagg's green eyes popped wide open. "Uh oh."

"Busted," I nodded. "I thought we were supposed to keep your existence a secret?" I asked. "And yet you appear to have decided to introduce yourself to my girlfriend. Without asking me first."

Plagg slid out from beneath the sock I'd pulled over him and then floated toward me. "First off, I make the rules. Second, I make the rules. Are we clear?"

That arched eyebrow of mine went higher. "Does that line usually work on your holders?"

Plagg frowned. "Not since the 1980s." He considered me for a moment. "Seriously, it's okay. I've been down this road a few times, kid, and I know what I'm doing. And your girlfriend out there is a one-of-a-kind keeper. She already suspected I existed and has been sneaking me cheese nearly from the moment we moved in."

The other eyebrow went up. "She has? I've only been smelling it for a few days now."

"She's been a bit… distracted… this week," Plagg said carefully. "But it's Marinette. She's going to feed anyone living under this roof."

"I'm feeding you too," I pointed out. "How much cheese can one Kwami of Destruction eat?"

"Chat—"

"Is the cheese I'm getting you wrong?" I asked, worried now. I pulled out my phone and started to search for a new vendor. "I'll switch – what brand is she-"

"Chat!" Plagg said forcefully.

I looked up. "You never call me that," I observed.

"Hazard of the job," he laughed. "And there's nothing wrong with your cheese. And I eat it all – both are…" he paused, and then his voice got really low. "Provided with love."

I was floored. In all the years we had been together, Plagg never, ever expressed his feelings. I carefully chose not to comment on it and instead said: "All right, then. So now my girlfriend knows about kwamis."

"Yes," Plagg said, though his tone was a bit odd.

"I still should talk to her about you and my powers in general. Is that okay?"

Plagg cocked his head and thought. "Yes," he said simply. "Now, get some sleep."

"Right," I said, laughing. "You gave me quite the scare earlier."

"Whaddya mean?"

"You were missing. I found you passed out on the counter in the kitchen. Overdosed on cheese."

"Oh, that," he said, waving a paw at me. "I was just resting between courses."

"Right," I said again. "G'night."

I turned off the light and managed to get some sleep among the tossed sheets, giving up around five and running through the shower. Oddly, Plagg floated into the bathroom as I was putting the finishing touches on my hair. "This is new," I said. "Usually I have to drag you out of your sock drawer."

"I'll deny this later, but I'm glad we talked last night," he said. "Now, she's making you waffles out there. Hurry up."

"Waffles?" I said. "On a weekday?"

"Yeah." He looked meaningfully at my ring. "Now?"

I laughed. "Plagg – claws out!"

A moment later, I was staring at Chat Noir in the mirror; technically, it was me, of course, but seeing myself in costume always reminded me of the deep responsibility I was entrusted with. And that I looked really good in skin-tight black leather.

My feline sense of smell immediately picked up the twin joys of fresh waffles and Canadian bacon. I trotted out and through my door to the kitchen and found Marinette with her hair up and in casual clothes, puttering around the kitchen. "Something smells divine," I enthused as I hugged her on my way to the Keurig. "What's the occasion?"

"Day off," she said. "I took a chance that you were off, too."

"I have some paperwork for-" I edited on the fly, having nearly said House of Gabriel, "—my job that I can do remotely and later tonight," I replied. "Let me make one phone call and I'm yours for the day."

"Just the day?" she teased, playfully pouting.

I twirled her around and placed a hot kiss on her. "What do you think?"

"Good to know," she laughed, releasing me and returning to the waffles.

Sipping my coffee, I thought about how I wanted to approach Plagg with Marinette. It seemed prudent not to call her out about feeding him behind my back, but I was also intensely curious how she'd figured out I had the little critter. It was hard not to be – I was a cat, after all.

I came around to the far side of the bar and slid onto one of the stools, careful to keep my tail from getting tangled. "I have an admission to make," I said, deciding on humor. "I've been hiding a relationship I'm having on the side from you."

Marinette didn't look up from where she was pouring batter into the waffle iron. "Oh?" she said.

"Yeah." I tapped a claw against my mug, hearing the clink clink as I spoke. "I've never explained the whole Miraculous deal to you, have I?"

"No," she said as she closed the lid. "You've got three minutes to do so," she laughed. "And then we're ready."

I smiled. "So," I started, holding up my ring. "This is my Miraculous."

She arched an eyebrow at me. "Should you be telling me any of this?" she interrupted.

"I asked," I replied.

That garnered a double raised eyebrow of shock. "Indeed."

"Anyway," I continued, "I obviously hold the Cat Miraculous, and my partner, Ladybug, holds the Bug Miraculous."

"She has a ring, too?"

"No, each Miraculous is a different jewel. Hers happen to be earrings."

"Oh."

"Without going into crazy details, each Miraculous holder – that's me – is pared to a jewel and the kwami that powers it."

"Kwami?" she frowned.

"They are… well, tiny gods," I said, smiling, "powered by quantic energy." I turned the ring a bit so I could see the glowing paw print. "I've only met a few of them, but they all have purrsonalities that match their Miraculous. Mine is named Plagg, and he is quite the character."

"Is he responsible for your sense of humor?" she asked, eyes gleaming with amusement.

"That is all me," I laughed. "But since Plagg is quite literally a black cat, my feline antics are mostly from his influence."

"Mostly?"

I smirked. "I know how to play cat when I want to," I said.

"Indeed," she laughed.

"While transformed, Plagg essentially provides the 'power' that makes me Chat Noir. He can keep me transformed nearly indefinitely, but there are a few exceptions to that rule," I said vaguely. "When I hit one, I need to feed him fairly quickly so he can recharge, as it were."

She nodded.

"Each kwami has different requirements and tastes. Plagg happens to have a penchant for very smelly cheese. Camembert, in fact," I said, keeping my expression neutral.

"I wondered about that," she said as she opened the waffle iron.

Seeing that she wasn't about to admit that she had somehow already met my kwami, behind my back no less, I just smiled at her and accepted the plate she slid toward me. "I don't want you to be alarmed if you find him out and about after I've gone to bed," I continued. "He's mostly harmless."

"Mostly?"

I grinned. "Actually, he's a little devil. But I love him to pieces." I took a bite. "But if you ever tell him that, I will deny it to my dying day."

"Your secret is safe, Chat," she laughed. "Now, how are my waffles?"

"Extraordinary," I gushed. "Just like my girlfriend."