Chapter Seventeen – Dinosaurs

Cat Noir arrives at Marinette's balcony a little after ten o'clock. He'd wanted to leave that morning, but then Ms Bustier arrived, and then at lunch he was whisked away for a fitting that ended up lasting until after school had ended, after which he had his Chinese lesson, followed by a lonely dinner, and when Nathalie finally sent him to his room to practice the piano then catch up on the lessons he missed before going to bed at a reasonable hour, Plagg reminded him that he should do his school work before he goes to see the princess, because Adrien never knows what time he'll get home from visiting her.

But that was then and this is now, and right now it appears that Marinette is asleep, and he's seriously debating waking her up so he can give her a hug and tell her it's okay and that he's there for her and offer to cataclysm Luka for leaving her to deal with this – not that he'll mention him by name, since Cat Noir isn't supposed to know who he is – if he's left her to deal with this alone.

Cat chews his lip nervously, glancing between the direction of his house and Marinette's sleeping form. His mind flashes back to the last time he was here – her ribs, her hipbones, those dark circles – and with a deep sigh and one, last, regretful look at her through her skylight (he should probably mention to her that curtains would be a valuable investment) he stands and turns, pulling his baton from the small of his back and extending it in preparation for leaving.

"Cat?"

Marinette's voice scares the life out of him and he jumps into the air, landing on the railing in a crouch reminiscent to his namesake. He manages to refrain from hissing at her, but that's only because she starts giggling, putting a delicate hand over her mouth to stifle them.

"Are you okay?" She asks, still giggling.

Her eyes sparkle with mirth and he finds himself captivated with her. The moonlight shines gently on her hair and skin, illuminating them in a gentle glow. Huh, glow. Like pregnancy glow.

"Oh, of course mademoiselle." He slips into his overdramaticness as easily as stepping into a second skin, and he's rewarded with the fond eyeroll he is accustomed to receiving from his princess. "How could I not be when I've been graced with the beauty and presence of my pawsome purrincess?"

She raises an eyebrow at him, crossing her arms tightly and shivering against the cold night air. "You could be cold?" She suggests. Without waiting for his reply – "How could I be cold when I'm being warmed by your dazzling smile?" – she slips back inside her room and settles under her covers again, checking that Tikki is hidden – she is – before calling out to Cat. "You can come in."

Cat slips inside her room not a moment later, closing the skylight behind him with a grateful sigh at the warmth of her room. It's so warm it's actually borderline hot, and he wonders how on earth she's managing to sit comfortably under what looks like five different blankets while wearing fleece winter pyjamas with what looks like dinosaurs on them.

"Are those dinosaurs?" He asks, scooting closer to her so he can run his hand over the soft fabric covering her arm. At least he imagines it's soft, he can't actually feel anything through the suit.

"Mmhmm," She grins at him, using the arm he's not running his hand over to adjust the blankets around her. "I love dinosaurs."

"They scare me." Cat responds absentmindedly, thinking back to Animan when Ladybug leaped into the T–Rex's mouth. It took him weeks to stop having nightmares about her being eaten by the prehistoric creature.

"It's a good thing they're dead, then." Marinette says, shifting the arm under his hand so it slides along her wrist to her hand. She curls her fingers around his lightly, shivering at the cool feeling of the magic, leather looking material against her skin. She reaches her free hand across her body to pat the space beside her, in front of where he's kneeling. "Sit down." He does, not removing his hand from her grasp, and she shivers more violently as his arm brushes against hers. Why is he so cold? How long was he out there? "You're freezing." She comments, but she still leans against his side, her eyes closing sleepily.

"Sorry," He says automatically.

He bites back a whine when she releases his hand, but then she pulls the blankets out from under him and throws them over his legs so he's under the covers with her. She stretches her feet out in front of her so he does the same – thankfully having a magic suit means that he doesn't pick up dirt or anything of that kind as he's racing across rooftops, so he doesn't have to worry about leaving a mess in her bed – and she yelps when his feet brush against hers.

"Really freezing!" She exclaims, staring at him in horror. "How aren't you shivering?"

He grins and nudges his feet against hers again. She yelps, pulling them up and curling them beneath her. The movement tilts her more firmly against him and he can actually feel the slight vibration of her shivering against him.

"The suit keeps me pretty well protected." He responds. He feels bad for teasing her – she's obviously very cold if she's shivering – and he pulls her blankets up to her shoulders, settling them more firmly around her. She smiles, grateful, and rests her head on his shoulder, snuggling closer to him and ignoring the cold still radiating from his suit. "But how are you cold? It's pretty warm in here?"

She shrugs slightly, finding his hand under the covers and wrapping her fingers around his again. "I get pretty cold easily. And the heat is from the ovens in the bakery." She nudges her head a little higher on his shoulder and he relaxes back against the pillows so he's not so hunched over, allowing her to comfortably rest the top of her head in the crook of his neck, her arm curled around his to hold his hand. Apparently tired Marinette is cuddly Marinette. "Heat rises; handy fact to know."

"I bet it's great in summer." He grins and lets his eyes slide closed, soaking up the affection she's willingly giving him. She hums in agreement, her other hand joining the first in holding his so it's enveloped in her warmth. "Did I wake you up?"

"No." Her voice is thick with sleep and he bites his lip. "I was awake."

"You looked like you were asleep." He murmurs softly. She stiffens slightly and lifts her head from his shoulder to look at him. He keeps his face turned away from hers, stubbornly keeping his eyes closed.

"You were looking at me?"

"You need curtains." He says in a way of answering. He holds his breath, expecting her to become upset or start lecturing him about looking through girl's bedroom windows at night, but then she snorts and wriggles even closer to him, letting her head fall back on his shoulder.

"Yeah," She sighs. Her warm breath tickles his neck but he refuses to squirm, should he accidently dislodge her. "You're the only one who can see through it though."

He swallows nervously. "You should still get them." He doesn't exactly want a repeat of seeing her in her underwear (at least without her–nope! No, not at all. He doesn't want to see her in any state of undress again. Permission or not. Nope. No sirree. No way.)

"Okay," She frowns, confused, but decides to let it go. "Was there a reason for your visit or were your 'kitty senses' tingling? again" She teases him, slipping her hand more comfortably into his so their palms are facing each other, fingers entwined.

This is it. This is his opening. She's basically asking him to ask her. Right? He shifts slightly so he can see her face and she looks up at him expectantly. Her face is open and innocent, and not for the first time this day he finds himself wondering how this amazing, intelligent, innocent girl could possibly be pregnant, or could have even done the thing to get pregnant. He just can't fathom it. The idea of his princess participating in an act as life changing and major as sex . . .

Unless she wasn't participating. The very thought makes his stomach churn and he gasps, clamping his free hand over his mouth to try and stop the sickening feeling brimming inside him. She frowns, concerned, and lifts her head off his shoulder completely. Keeping their hands entwined, she uses her free hand to rub his chest comfortably, drawing soothing circles across his sternum.

"Kitty? Are you okay?"

No. No, Luka wouldn't do that. He's not that kind of guy, he doesn't have a control issue, he has no issue with power. Cat's sure Luka would sooner destroy his guitar than hurt Marinette, he sees how much Luka adores her in his eyes whenever he looks at her; he'd never do anything to bring her harm.

"Kitty?" Her grip on his hand tightens.

Slipping his hand from over his mouth, he places it over hers on his chest and gives it a gentle squeeze, smiling at her as if he wasn't just hyperventilating. "I'm okay."

She raises an eyebrow incredulously. "And I'm secretly Hawk Moth."

He snorts and, on complete impulse (and absolutely, one hundred percent, nothing else), he leans forward and boops her nose with his. She blinks at him, bewildered, before a giggle–snort escapes her and she drops her head to rest her forehead on his shoulder, giggling uncontrollably.

"You're a dork." She whispers and he grins inanely, choosing to ignore how absurdly happy he is at being teased.

"I'm your dork." He murmurs.

Marinette rolls her eyes, sliding her free hand across his chest and down to his waist so she's hugging him. She uncurls her legs and stretches them out next to his, scooting even closer. He turns slightly so his torso is facing hers and she shifts her head closer to his neck so she's using him as a pillow.

"You're cuddly." He murmurs, his breath tickling her hair.

"You're still cold."

He snorts again, leaning his head against hers. His arm is starting to go numb from being trapped between them, but so long as she's comfortable, he's comfortable. She pulls away from him a moment later and climbs out from under the covers, shivering at the loss of extra heat. He watches her, a small frown of disappointment creasing his eyebrows, climb down the steps from her bed and hears her open the trapdoor to downstairs. The sudden quietness of her room is a little odd and he taps his fingers absentmindedly together on his stomach, glancing between where her photos used to be – there's still some sticky tape stuck to the wall – and the skylight. Her trapdoor opens a minute later and he sits up to look over the bed railing.

"Are you hungry?" She holds up a container with chocolate macarons inside and his mouth immediately waters. Before he can respond, his stomach beats him to it. His cheeks flush and he presses his hands into it to quell the noise. She giggles. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Sorry, I didn't have much for dinner."

"How come?" She grabs her tablet from her school bag – and spots Tikki fast asleep inside, cookie crumbs still on her cheeks – before climbing the stairs to the bed. "Were you feeling unwell?"

He takes the container from her so she can easily climb under the covers. She settles beside him again, and this time he wraps an arm around her so she feels close to him without having to hold his hand between them and making it go numb. He uses prying the lid off of the container as an excuse to extend his response time (because he's yet to think of a response), and he offers it to her but she shakes her head, drawing her legs up slightly to rest her tablet against them.

"I've already brushed my teeth."

She shifts to lean her head against him. He waits for her to repeat the question, but she must have taken his hesitance to be either not wanting to answer, or something to do with his identity, because she simply goes into an app on her tablet and starts typing and scrolling. He enjoys his chocolate macarons (not as good as passionfruit, but still delicious with a melt–in–your–mouth texture), but he limits himself to three before putting the lid back on the container and putting it to the side.

It's only when he glances at her tablet and takes a note of the time – almost midnight – that he remembers why he stopped by and he opens his mouth to start his gentle interrogation, but before he can she shifts the tablet a little higher against her thighs and he catches sight of the name of the website she's on.

He's almost certain he feels his stomach plummet straight to the centre of the earth.