Twenty-Four: MariChatmas

Author's Note: While still recuperating from his severely broken ankle, Chat finds himself watching Christmas movies on Netflix… and begins to recall the very first official kiss he had with Marinette – the one that started them done the path toward being a couple.

Special note: This idea was suggested by a reader following my companion work, Kitty Love, which is something of a prequel to Roommates. That story inadvertently skips right over this key aspect of their relationship, as Chat has repeatedly (and daily) reminded me since seeing the comment, so in the interests of appeasing my feline friend (and sneaking in more snuggle time for him with his Princess), I present the following. –ep

Marinette had insisted that I keep off my ankle as much as possible for a few days; despite my protests that work was piling up on my civilian alter-ego's desk, and the fact I had quick healing abilities, she was firmly insistent, going so far as to plant herself in front of my balcony doors to prevent my escape. I'd resigned myself to her request with the stipulation that I at least be able to work on my laptop, a condition she had acquiesced to fairly quickly.

I spent the first day on the couch, laying sideways with my costumed boot up on a pillow. We'd both agreed the process would go faster if I stayed transformed, especially after I'd had a few quiet moments to confer with Plagg. I felt badly about keeping him cooped up in the ring when Marinette was at work, but he assured me that Marinette would be making it up to him, though he was quick to avoid telling me what that might entail exactly. Not for the first time did I feel like he was as smitten with Marinette as I was.

It was a long, boring day, mostly replying to emails and signing off on design ideas. Fortunately, I only had one conference call, and I managed to experience "significant technical difficulties" that prevented my webcam from working properly. The slight change in my voice due to being transformed was also easily explained away to the "cold" that had kept me out of the office that day.

Plagg's efforts to make me better at prevaricating were proceeding well, it seemed.

Day two, however, I ran out of things to do. While I wasn't generally a hands-on manager, I did spend a fair amount of my day wandering and checking in with people, from designers to the bean counters in Finance. As Father continued to stay in recluse mode, I felt it was wise to check the pulse of our organization regularly. Over my first six months as an "official" director, I'd found it had made people more willing to discuss their ideas with me and even be more forthcoming about the internal troubles we were experiencing. Some I had been able to smooth out, but others – like our dowdy and dated designs – were a bit harder to sort, though I felt strongly I was making progress. Our Christmas campaign that year was a good example; for the first time in five years, sales of House of Gabriel merchandise had increased.

Most of my photo shoots had been cancelled as well, which made up the rest of my time at the office. By mid-afternoon on the second day, I was bored. Bored enough that I couldn't even seem to drop off into a catnap, which was a bit unusual.

I swiveled on the couch and set the laptop down on the coffee table; thinking about the Christmas campaign made me smile slightly, and I picked up my tablet to fire up Netflix. Just as I suspected, all of my favorite Christmas movies had appeared, and I happily spent the next few minutes scrolling through my old friends. I'd shared my love of classic American movies with Marinette early on in our relationship and knew that she'd completely enjoy letting her hair down that evening, relaxing into my chest as she enjoyed a glass of wine and one of my holiday favorites. I found myself purring at the thought of the two of us cozily wrapped into each other for a few hours.

My claw pawsed over Christmas in Connecticut, a movie from the Golden Age of Hollywood that starred Barbara Stanwyk. While my heart belonged with Ingrid Bergman, Barbara Stanwyk ran a close second – well, third, I suppose, if Lauren Bacall was added to the mix. I found myself shaking with laughter, comparing the wonderful actresses as I was. Fortunately, Marinette was well aware of my (unrequited) love for them.

Like most streaming platforms, Netflix took my momentary distraction to start playing the movie; it had apparently been paused from our last watching right at the scene where Ms. Stanwyk attempts to make a flapjack. In an instant, I was transported back to the very first time the two of us had watched the movie, for it had led to our very first official kiss.

It was the last Christmas I was a student at Dupont with Marinette; we had just one semester left before leaving the cozy confines of Dupont and heading to Lycée. Marinette had yet to discover that Adrien was going to be eschewing the uber-exclusive private Lycée in favor of following her and our friends – my alter ego wanting to save that disclosure for nearer the end of the semester. As Chat, of course, I had been rather circumspect as to whether I'd even been attending school, but was reasonably certain despite my efforts to camouflage my homework, she'd determined I was likely at the same level as her.

Curled up on her chaise in her room, Marinette was snuggled into my chest and holding her tablet. It had snowed overnight, making Christmas day this wonderfully white postcard version of Paris; I'd taken the long way to the Bakery after the microsecond Father spent with me exchanging gifts at the mansion, pausing in a few places to appreciate just how beautiful the city had become. Marinette knew I was going to essentially be alone in Christmas – I'd been pretty up front with her early on that my civilian home life was pretty awful – and she'd invited me to spend the day with her family instead.

I'd dithered on accepting for a day or so as I was still sensitive to having akumatized her father months earlier – well prior to when we'd actually started dating for real. But Marinette had assured me that her family would welcome me warmly, and from the moment I'd landed at their front door that Christmas day, I knew she had spoken the truth. They'd treated me to a fabulous Christmas Day feast – more food on one table than I typically saw in a full year at the mansion.

Fortunately, my costume smoothly adjusted to my rather overwhelmed stomach, but my other cat tendencies began to manifest. Marinette noted my heavily-lidded feline eyes and massive yawns I was issuing while still at the table and had quickly taken me by the paw up the steps to her room and set me up on her chaise. I was out nearly instantly, waking some hours later when she wafted freshly-baked Belgian chocolate croissants beneath my feline nose.

That led to us becoming coiled together around her tablet, and my suggestion to watch Christmas in Connecticut. I'd screened it numerous times but it had been her first, and I enjoyed watching her experience it, smiling as she laughed at the humor, and cried with her when it looked like all was lost for the main character. We then laughed and cried happy tears at the admittedly predictable but nonetheless heartwarming ending.

It was after final credits had rolled that it happened.

We were pretty much intertwined in each other from having watched the movie together, and in the process of trying to carefully extricate myself without snagging a claw in her clothing, I discovered Marinette was entangled in my tail. I'd let it gently rest atop her thigh when we'd first settled in, but somehow, she'd managed to wind it around her like a seat belt. It didn't hurt, obviously, but the tiny bit of the end that was still free was tapping against the chaise, telegraphing my frustration. Not wanting to yank it out from under her (and tumble Marinette to the ground in the process), I tried to shift myself a bit and found I was pretty much held in place.

"Princess," I said after a few additional subtle attempts to release my tail, "I appear to be stuck."

"Really?" she replied as she looked down. "Oh! How did that happen?"

"I don't know," I said, trying to shift again and getting nowhere. "You need to turn a bit so I can free it."

"Okay," she said and obliged by twisting the wrong way and succeeding in cinching my tail tighter around her. I gasped slightly as it also tightened a bit uncomfortably around me, but her movement had the net effect of drawing the two of us closer – so close, in fact, that my masked nose was but a few millimeters away from her face.

"Uh…" I started to say before losing myself in the beautiful blue depths of her eyes. I was staring at her sideways, of course, since I'd been leaning on a shoulder, but it didn't lessen the effect.

Time slowed down as some sort of final piece clicked into place deep within my heart. The longer the two of us had been dating, the more certain I'd become that Marinette was my soulmate; it had taken me some time to get to that point, though, for I'd been pretty conflicted over Ladybug. In that small sliver of a moment, I found myself adjusting one more time and carefully closed the remaining distance to gently press my lips to Marinette's.

Worried that she wasn't feline exactly the same, it was a brief but meaningful kiss, just enough for me to taste the strawberry lip gloss she loved while telling her I was interested in taking our relationship beyond simple friendship - but not enough that she'd feel pressured into reciprocating. Pulling away, though, I found my movement halted; she'd managed to get a hand behind my mane, and to my surprise, pulled me toward her.

The second kiss held all of the fireworks the first had skipped, and led to a third, and then something of a more frantic series, as if the emotional dam each of us had been using to hold back our feelings had cracked and tumbled away behind the force of our acceptance. When time restarted for me, we were still snuggled closely together, but without the feeling of separation we'd had at the beginning of the day.

Now we felt as though we were one.

Breathing heavily, I asked carefully, "What just happened?"

"I think, kitty, we've crossed a bridge to a new country," Marinette said quietly. "One that I've long wanted to visit, but was unsure you were willing to travel to."

Running a claw through her pigtail, I found myself asking: "You were waiting? For me?"

"Of course," she said, like it was self-evident. "I knew you felt the way you did about me, but you had to realize it yourself. Otherwise, it won't work between us."

I thought about that and intrinsically knew she was right. "I love you," I said simply. "I truly do. And I think I have for a while now."

"I know," she laughed. "And I've loved you for quite some time, too." She kissed me again quickly.

"I'm going to remember this day for a while," I said happily. "The day it was official."

"Me, too," she said. "But I suspect this still needs to be on the down low."

"Yes," I nodded sadly. "And I'll have to tell Ladybug that it's gotten serious between us." I frowned a bit. "Hopefully she'll be as accepting of this stage as she was when I told her I was hanging out with you. As a friend."

Marinette smiled. "Just be honest, and I'm sure she will."

Staring at the freeze-frame of Barbara Stanwyk and the flapjack, lost in my memory of our first true kiss, I was momentarily startled when my baton started to chime. Popping it into phone mode, I saw Marinette's face appear on the small screen. "Hey beautiful," I smiled. "I was just thinking about you."

"Were you now," she smiled. "Staying on the couch, I trust?" she asked.

"Yes, Princess," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Good. Because I'm bringing home some kitty treats baked especially for you by maman."

I smiled wider. "That sounds lovely. When will you be home?"

"In about twenty. I'm just leaving the Bakery now."

"Pawsome," I laughed. "This domesticated kitty can't wait to see you."