Adrien ran along the rooftops of Paris, pure exhilaration running through his veins.
This was insane. He couldn't believe it was really happening, but at the same time he felt strangely reluctant to question it. Why should he waste time wondering how and why he had turned into a weird hybrid of superhero and cat when he could be enjoying it?
He leapt to another rooftop with the help of his new baton, a jump he'd never have dreamed of attempting as his usual self, and let out a whoop when he touched down with barely an impact. He'd never in his life experienced anything like this, and he had a funny feeling that nothing else would ever quite match up to it.
The tiny black cat-god thing that had burst out of the ring he'd found on his pillow had seemed slightly taken aback by how quickly Adrien had accepted his story. He – Plagg, his name was – had apparently expected some sort of mental breakdown, or at least initial disbelief. Plagg had clearly not taken into account the fact that Adrien had spent most of his life reading superhero comics, watching superhero movies, and playing superhero games. This might not be the most emotionally fraught origin story, but he'd take it.
He was running through potential names for his new alter ego as he ran, completely forgetting about the partner Plagg had told him to watch out for, when a yell from somewhere to his left caught him off guard and made him lose his balance for one crucial second. Before he really knew what was happening, he'd tripped on the edge of a building.
Clearly about to plummet off the side and end up as kibble, he didn't even have time to shout before something caught him around the ankle and jerked him to a halt.
Adrien – no, Night Cat – no, that sounded terrible; Catboy? No, definitely not – yelped and panicked, trying to twist around in mid-air and reach for the baton that was attached to his hip. He missed, but the mysterious object had pulled him out of immediate danger; he fell to the building's roof with a thump that knocked most of the wind out of him. Staring straight up at the pale early evening sky, he mused to himself that the suit must have some kind of magical protection built in. That definitely should've hurt a lot more.
It occurred to him that he might be under attack, quite possibly from the akuma monsters Plagg had mentioned to him, but he only managed to lift himself to his elbow before his eyes met those of the figure standing over him.
Adrien's mouth went dry.
As a model, he had come across no shortage of beautiful women over the past few years. He knew from personal experience just how demoralising it was to be seen as an object, no more than the sum of your body or face, so he had always made an effort to get to know other models as people without letting their attractiveness affect him. He was never tongue-tied in the presence of a gorgeous woman as many boys his age would be, and even having them half-naked and draped over his body was no longer a big deal. In short, Adrien Agreste was not easily flustered.
Sure, he was human. He noticed things, just like everyone else did. It hadn't been lost on him that both his female flatmates were very pretty girls; Alya's curves were rather easy on the eye, and he had found himself accidentally admiring Marinette's legs in her short dungarees just the other day – but he'd forcefully reminded himself that these were his housemates. He was going to spend all year in the same flat as them; it seemed foolish to let his thoughts wander in any direction that might make it complicated in any way. Besides, Alya, Nino and Marinette were his first proper friends. He would rather die than mess that up.
Still, the effect this girl had on him was completely unexpected.
From his perspective on the ground, she seemed tall and imposing, dazzlingly confident and in control, a hand on her hip and one eyebrow cocked. The magical suit she wore was a mixture of black and red – sleek, curving designs made it look as though a pair of ladybug wings crossed up and over her chest, complete with black spots on the crimson background. It was an eye-catching look, and it matched Adrien's impression of her: dark hair blowing back off her forehead in the slight breeze and eyes vividly blue against the red-and-black mask, the girl was the most awesome superhero he'd ever seen.
If this is an akuma, I think I might just let it have me.
The thought came out of nowhere and, somewhat horrified at himself, Adrien struggled to a sitting position.
"I'm so sorry!" said the girl before he could say anything. "I didn't expect you to react like that. I was just trying to get your attention – you seemed pretty focused."
Adrien tried not to go red. Be suave! his brain yelled at him. SUAVE!
"Guess I just… fell for you," was what came out of his mouth.
NOT THAT SUAVE!
Mentally berating himself for whatever the hell that had been, Adrien cringed slightly as he glanced back up at the girl. To his astonishment and gratification, she didn't look horrified or move to slap him; she just laughed.
"I take it you're my new partner?" she said, holding a black-and-red-gloved hand to him.
He stared at it for a second, then grasped it. "That's me," he said with what he hoped was a roguish grin as he got to his feet. From his new perspective, she was a lot tinier than he'd expected – the top of her head probably only came up to the middle of his bicep – but no less fierce and determined. "And you are…?"
"Ladybug," she told him casually.
Adrien's inner voice, which seemed to have taken a life of its own, heaved a deep sigh. She's sooo cool. She already has her superhero name picked out! Quick, you need one now, you idiot.
He wondered briefly whether he was actually hearing Plagg's voice. Maybe Plagg had made him say the terrible pick-up line, too.
"Enchanté, Ladybug," he said aloud, glancing down at the hand she was holding out to him again, this time to shake. Before he could think his actions through properly, he'd picked it up and brought it to his lips for a gallant kiss.
There was a moment of total silence, and Adrien froze, panic coursing through his veins.
You did NOT just do that, oh my God. THIS IS WHY YOU WERE HOMESCHOOLED, YOU UTTER MORON. She's going to demand a different partner – one who isn't sleazy and gross! How have you screwed this up before you've even started?!
Holding his breath, Adrien risked a peek up at Ladybug, expecting outrage. It took him a moment to understand that her wide blue eyes and pink cheeks weren't a sign of fury. The new superhero was… blushing?
YES!
Irrational victory swept through him like an adrenaline rush. He suddenly felt that all he would ever want to do from now on was try to make this girl smile and blush, and as long as he succeeded he could die happy.
Ladybug cleared her throat, gently withdrawing her hand. Her words brought him back down to earth.
"And you are…?"
Adrien panicked, mentally reassessing the one swift glimpse he'd caught of himself in a window. He remembered ears, tail, and the colour black. He needed something memorable. Simple, yet mysterious. Cat… Black Cat? Actually, that sounded pretty good.
"Chat Noir at your service, madame," he said firmly.
"Ok, so I was thinking we should talk strategy," Ladybug said half an hour later, when they had got bored of testing their new-found abilities and gadgets. Chat Noir had found that his baton obeyed his wishes with barely a second's delay, able to split into two, lengthen to catch a fall, or even return to him when thrown like a boomerang. Rather than a tool or weapon, it seemed more an extension of his thoughts. He had also spent far more time than was gentlemanly – or appropriate – getting distracted by Ladybug's very… flattering suit, especially whenever she swung past him on what had turned out to be a magical yo-yo. All in all, it had been a pretty good night.
"Strategy?" he asked, sitting down and swinging his legs over the side of a rooftop – something he'd wanted to do since he was a little boy and had been taken up the Eiffel Tower as a treat.
Ladybug came to join him, sitting just close enough that his heart began to beat slightly faster. He was torn between annoyance at himself for crushing on her so hard about three minutes – make that three seconds – after meeting her, and elation that this beautiful, badass girl was his superhero partner. Could he be any luckier?
"Yeah. You know, figure out how we're going to stop this Butterfly guy. I was thinking we should run patrols at least twice a week, keep an eye on the city, see if we spot anything unusual. Tikki said the wielder probably won't expect us specifically, but they might be waiting for someone to show up and challenge them. We should try and get the element of surprise, if we can."
Chat Noir stared at her, aware of a feeling of total inadequacy. "Uhh… yeah, that sounds – that sounds good." Butterfly guy? He vaguely remembered Plagg mentioning something about a Butterfly jewel. He hadn't really paid much attention.
"Great! The sooner we can stop him, the sooner we can give back our Miraculous…es?" She paused for a second, her serious expression wavering, then laughed.
His stomach swooped, and not in a good way – even as part of him was noting that her eyes scrunched up in the most adorably unselfconscious way while she laughed.
"Give them back?" he echoed.
Ladybug turned those dazzling blue eyes on him in surprise. "Yes. That's what our goal is, right? Get the Butterfly jewel back before it can be used to hurt anyone!"
Chat Noir swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of reality on his shoulders. For a few glorious moments, he'd totally forgotten about how it felt to be Adrien Agreste. No cameras, no overbearing father, no giant, empty mansions that always felt too cold. Just him and Ladybug and the stars above. It was stupid, but he'd almost let himself believe that this could be the start of something new – something different.
"Right," he said, trying not to let the disappointment show in his voice. "That's a good plan."
Even the return of a faint blush on Ladybug's cheek wasn't enough to make him feel better.
"Thanks!" she said, sounding genuinely pleased. "Now, I think we should have some way of communicating in case either of us spot anything outside of patrols. Can I get your phone number?"
"My phone number?" he repeated stupidly, mortified to feel a flush of his own creeping up his face. "Oh, sure, yeah! Phone number. Makes sense." Trying to ignore the voice yelling SHE ASKED FOR YOUR NUMBER! in his head, he glanced around the rooftop as if he thought he'd find a pen and piece of paper lying around.
"Oh." She saw the flaw in the plan at the same time as he did. "Hang on. I think I can put it into my yo-yo."
He watched in awe as she flipped something, or twisted it, on the red yo-yo that hung from her waist and it opened into two halves, one of them now a tiny screen like a smartphone. As she typed the number he recited to her, she screwed her face up in concentration, the tip of her tongue sticking out.
"Got it," she said. "Do you want mine?"
Um, YES.
"If you want," he said, trying to sound casual and cool and not desperate or sad in any way. "What name shall I save it under?"
Ladybug gave him an odd look. "Uh, Ladybug?"
"Oh, yeah, I know, but what's your real name?" He was fiddling with his baton, trying to figure out whether it had a screen as well – it did – so it took him a minute to realise she wasn't answering. When he looked up, she was frowning.
"I… don't think I should tell you my real name," she said, as if he'd suggested they go for a swim naked in the Seine at midwinter. "Isn't that, like, superhero 101? You keep your secret identity… you know… secret?"
Chat Noir's heart sank. She was right, of course, and he was an idiot. But… that meant…
"I just think we should approach this sensibly," she went on. "The phone numbers are just for emergencies or organising patrols. We probably shouldn't get to know each other too well, or we risk compromising each other's identity. In fact, don't tell me anything about yourself. It's probably safer that way."
Staring at the beautiful girl who'd suddenly crash-landed in his life and seemed poised to disappear from it as quickly as she'd appeared, Chat Noir nodded numbly.
Not so lucky after all, I guess.