Chapter 3
A green eye slowly fluttered open, disturbed by the soft sun peeking through the half pulled down blinds, until a sudden shadow completely covered it.
Immediately, instincts kicked in.
Chat Noir, in his still sleepy mind, forgot about his chained state and did a backflip, staggering to a landing and falling backwards onto the couch, fake cat ears atop his head pulling back as he snarled into the still dark room.
Two large shadowy figures blocked the sun, standing vigilant in front of the large French windows right next to the table in the kitchen.
His skin tingled and the hairs on the back of his neck stood in warning, sensing the threat, until his eyes accustomed to the darkness and recognized the uniform of the tall cops.
Ah, that's right.
He got captured.
Tense muscles slowly, reluctantly relaxing, he leaned back, ears still perched forward, eyes glued to the two men outside. It was still too dark to see their faces, but he didn't need to, he could sense their contempt as they kept watch over him.
He'd heard while pretending to sleep in his stay in the infirmary, that the woman would be assigned two additional officers around her house. Thankfully, they weren't inside, otherwise he would go insane. The woman was bad enough.
Gods, that woman.
He snarled aloud, causing one of the officers to shift his weight, whether in uneasiness from the distinctively feline noise or at attention, he didn't know.
Chat Noir sighed, shaking his head, hissing at the lack of movement of his whole body. He could barely spread his feet as wide as his waist, his hands were bound tightly with some form of durable cloth, without his gloves. It felt odd feeling something other than the assuring, protective leather he usually wore, adorned with lethal claws at the tips.
He wiggled his fingers, testing their movement and clicked his tongue in distaste.
They really chained him up like a dog.
Not even the woman released his neck and leg cuffs, she'd obviously learned from their scuffle just two days ago. He'd really thought he could easily knock her out and escape, but she proved to be more than he expected.
He rarely ever underestimated his enemies, but he hadn't expected someone of her caliber to be on the side of justice. She would look good in his ranks.
He suddenly remembered her little trick during their scuffle, when he had the edge while towering over her.
She'd tried using honeyed words and seductive tones to catch him off guard, as if he was just any hotblooded male off the street.
Tch.
He had much more refined tastes.
…Though he couldn't quite deny she wasn't good-looking. At least a bit. He still had eyes, he could admit to that.
Chat Noir shook his head, craning his neck and easing the tense muscles, once again training his gaze on the two figures shrouded in darkness at the windows.
Security may have tightened up just a bit, with him fully bound and the presence of the two additional officers, but if enough time passed, one of his men would find him here and free him.
He was sure Hawkmoth would try to overthrow his units, but the insect wouldn't dare if he knew what was good for him. He had too many loyal followers to simply change leaders overnight. It would either get Hawkmoth killed in his thirst for power or kicked out. Either way, without manpower, Hawkmoth shouldn't pose too much of a threat, since his forte lied in emotional manipulation. As long as he had no people in emotional turmoil near him, he was virtually harmless. However, his greatest weapon was that of emotions, he was like a bloodhound, sniffing out any weak link and mercilessly exploiting said weaknesses and use it to his advantage, shattering any emotional defenses the person had.
Chat Noir sighed, he would worry about that after he got out of here.
His gaze moved from the two officers to the empty plate and glass on the table.
He remembered how the woman left it here last night before going to bed and locking her bedroom door. He didn't know why, he thought at first she might have poisoned it or put some funny drug in it to mess with his senses, but after carefully sniffing it and deducing it didn't smell suspicious, he swallowed the (thankfully) small cut pieces of fluffy bread and managed to slowly clench the glass in-between his teeth and tilt it slowly towards his mouth and swallow down the water.
At times, he was thankful for his survival skills. They came in handy every once in a while.
Still, he pondered why she would offer him such courtesy after injuring her in their skirmish. She could pretend all she wanted, but it didn't go unnoticed by him, how she slightly favored her side or rubbed her arms every now and then.
He knew he was needed alive for their little investigation, but for all she was concerned, she could've just given him some food or vitamin pills, that would sustain him.
He shook his head, hissing at the sharp pain shooting through his skull.
Ah, right, he didn't forget the injuries she inflicted on him. He was thankful he grew up in a rough environment, otherwise his skull would've split open from the many blows she'd dealt it.
Not to mention that clawful bowl. Just who in their right mind even made them so hard? Those things could kill a person!
In his distracted thoughts, Chat Noir only noticed the passage of time when more and more sunrays entered through the gaps between the blinds, bathing the room in soft, warm colors. It felt good seeing something else other than the pitch black of the darkness or the stark white of the infirmary he'd been in.
His teeth clenched at the memory, not the infirmary in particular, but the snake he'd met there.
He hadn't thought Couffaine was in charge of the unit here in Paris, last he heard, he was off somewhere in Ireland tracking one of the false leads he'd set up. The snake was more cunning than he thought, it only took a few months until the bastard came back, instead of the two till three years it should've took. He was a pesky thorn in his side, but not a serious threat, the man was far too cautious to simply storm what he suspected to be one of his main 'dens', as the snake liked to call his hideouts, to really pose a danger to his operations.
"Hm, seems like the snake shed some of his old skin too." He thought with a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. Chat Noir didn't miss the way the man's expression softened when he'd looked at the lady cop in the infirmary, he also didn't fail to notice how she immediately addressed him by his first name instead of rank or last name. Nor the way the former marine had become directly hostile to him either. He usually refrained from crass language or getting physical since his time in the marines, to think he would be swayed by that woman…
Chat Noir took a breath and dispelled his earlier thoughts, once again turning his attention to the two buffoons outside.
He could slightly make out their eyes due to the sunlight outside, signaling the arrival of morning. To fight his increasing boredom and restlessness, he settled back against the soft cushioning of the couch and opted to stare at them intently.
One of them shifted slightly.
Chat Noir could do this all day.
She had been staring at the ceiling since the first rays of sunshine peeking through into her bedroom.
That had been at around 5:30am.
Now it was roughly 7am.
Marinette turned restlessly, hissing through her teeth when she accidentally rolled onto her bad side, the one with a still forming purplish-blue hue on her ribs.
Curse that cat.
He was evil incarnate.
Very briefly, she wondered if he ate the food she left him and drank the water, but then quickly dismissed her thoughts. She shouldn't care, he was a criminal, she knew she was supposed to treat him as an innocent until he was officially declared guilty, but Marinette couldn't let that settle well with her, especially since she re-read cases connected to him and his lackeys in the past.
The only horrible things he hadn't done were rape, child abuse and human trafficking, at least it hadn't been documented. She was immensely grateful she wasn't housing a child molester or rapist, she could stomach anything else, but these particular brand of criminals always left a acidic aftertaste in her mouth and made her want to punch them on sight or worse.
Those cases, she left for her colleagues dealing with sexual assault, while they also got a few cases involving pedophiles and the like, they were thankfully small in number and usually taken over by the colleagues of the SVU.
Marinette checked her phone, replying quickly to Alya's messages asking if she was alright and alive.
She rolled her eyes at several of them.
"I'm not sure if I have to ask if you're alive or him after what happened on Monday." 7:00am
"I hope you locked him up in the basement." 7:00am
"Girl, I'm serious, don't force me to leave the team and check up on that monster myself." 7:01am
Marinette typed back, "One, I don't have a basement and two, it's against human rights to lock somebody up against their will and it's called false imprisonment, Alya."
The reporter must've been on break or out of the office because she replied in seconds.
"You're a cop, girl! Break the law a little!" 7.01am
Marinette sighed, shaking her head, "And you're a reporter working with the police! Don't worry Alya, he's restrained and I locked my bedroom door, it's fine, I'm getting ready for work now. Bye."
She waited for several beats, getting another parting message from Alya before she placed her phone on her night desk, getting out of bed and putting on her work clothes.
Marinette watched the door a little too long, taking a breath and undoing the lock, hearing the click before she finally swung open the door.
It was quiet again and Marinette's instincts tingled, a familiar feeling welling in the pit of her stomach. It reminded her of Monday, before Chat Noir ambushed her.
Fighting off the phantom pain spreading through her abdomen, Marinette carefully neared her living room.
Marinette nearly jumped at the sight of two large men right in front of the large double windows, staring straight at Chat Noir.
When she turned to look at the criminal, he was sitting quietly on the couch, staring straight back.
"…What's…going on?" she didn't know if she should be worried or relieved.
The blond's tone was clipped, as if he was already losing his patience, "They've been here the whole night, at some point they switched guard dogs." The term he used to refer to her colleagues slightly irked her, but she let it slide in favor of a peaceful morning.
If one could have that with a dangerous criminal in the house.
When Marinette threw a second glance at the officers outside, she recognized them, "Kim! Ivan!"
Kim the slightly smaller of the two, gave her a friendly wave. Marinette immediately opened the window, "You were sent here for watch?"
It was Kim that answered, Ivan was still holding a staredown with Chat Noir, "Hey boss. Yup, pretty much. We overheard Luka mentioning guard duty for your house, so we signed up." Kim scratched the back of his neck, "Though I gotta admit, staring at this guy the entire night wasn't a pleasure." He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the still glaring criminal.
Marinette understood where he was coming from, she would've gouged her eyes out if she'd been forced to stare at him for so long too, "Hey, why don't you call it a day and send in for two other officers? I'll just grab a quick bite to eat and head off to work." Marinette paused briefly, "You guys want something to eat too?"
Ivan finally broken his stare down with Chat Noir to smile down at her, "No, thanks Marinette. We're good."
Marinette just heard Kim complain about not accepting her offer just as she slid the window closed. She had to smile before she set to work on fixing a quick, lighthearted meal.
She was making scrambled eggs and fixing herself some cereal for breakfast. Once the eggs were done, she slid them onto a plate to cool.
She ate her cereal quickly, eyes alternating between watching the clock and the man sitting quietly on the couch.
Chat Noir was silent, oddly docile since their scuffle on Monday. He reminded her of a stray laying low on the streets and nursing its wounds after a fight with other cats. She supposed she did the same, interacting with him only when strictly necessary.
Still, the fact that the only thing he ate since last night was a glass of water and bread spread with butter didn't sit well with her. He was bound to be hungry.
Mentally steeling herself, Marinette grabbed fork and plate and carefully walked towards the male.
She made sure her footsteps were light and slow as to not startle him, she didn't know if his silence was from exhaustion or from being lost in thoughts, whatever it was, the last thing she wanted was to provoke a hostile response.
She slowly settled on the low coffee table opposite of him, balancing the plate with steaming scrambled eggs on her lap and stabbing them with the fork, lifting it and gently blowing on it before presenting it to his face.
Chat Noir stared at the fork, then the glaring green eyes moved to meet hers, "No."
She couldn't stop the eye roll even if she wanted to, "You're hungry."
He snorted in disbelief, "How would you know, cop?"
"You only ate bread from yesterday, cat, so you're bound to be hungry by now." She tried reigning in her anger, but it was bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting to come out and tear the jerk to shreds. He was a criminal, but not even criminals could ignore basic needs for long.
He scoffed again and turned his head defiantly.
He was even more difficult to deal with than the government.
"Look, I can't take these restraints off you so…either you eat like a real cat or we make this quick, Chat Noir." The use of his name made him glance at her briefly, but he returned to stubbornly stare at some spot away from her.
She waited for seconds, minutes, patience running thin, until he finally turned his head towards her, jaw set, shoulders straight, eyes narrowed.
He shifted, moving closer towards her and bending his long legs to minimize the distance and chances of making a mess while eating.
They both jumped when their knees suddenly touched and Chat Noir hissed in warning when she almost poked his eye with the fork, "You startled me."
She wanted to point out that he jumped too, but refrained and succumbed to her demise, guiding the fork into his mouth.
It was after the third fork that she grimaced, "Can you not glare at me while you're eating?" she stabbed at the yellowy food, lifting the fork near his face again.
He chewed, a devious smirk stretching his lips once he swallowed, "Why? Am I making you nervous?"
Another eyeroll, "Just shut up and stop looking at me like that."
He didn't.
What a jerk.
His glare softened after some time, but his intense look remained, watching her as if she'd disappear any minute.
She heard snickers and turned around.
Ivan and Kim were both chuckling at them, Ivan was more restrained and tried being serious, but Kim was covering his mouth with one hand to try and curb his laughing.
Marinette sent them both a glare and when she turned back around to continue feeding the man before her, Chat Noir was glaring daggers at the duo.
"Hey, lieutenant would it be illegal to-mpff!" she shoved the last pieces of eggs into his mouth, ending what would undeniably be a death threat towards her friends.
He glared at her and she nearly tripped over the stretched leg that suspiciously blocked her path. She returned his glare tenfold, both parties staring each-other down, "Don't even think about it, cat."
"It would look like an accident."
"No." what was she doing? Why was the criminal so casual? He must have something planned. She wouldn't let herself get swayed by casual banter.
A sigh from behind made Marinette briefly stop rinsing off residue bubbles from the now clean plate and glance behind her. Chat Noir was staring at the ground as if lost in thought.
Was he plotting?
She didn't want a repeat of Monday morning, so she had to be on guard. Like Alya said, she didn't have just any criminal in her house.
She was thankful for the additional restrains, in hindsight it was foolish of her to have removed them. Personal feelings didn't matter on the job, she wouldn't do the same mistake twice, even if she winced at the sight of the neck collar.
It wasn't right, her heart whispered to her, but she knew what he had done to all those people hadn't been right either.
It had been wrong, Chat Noir was a criminal and now he was paying the price for his sins.
Marinette told herself this over and over, watching him stare almost emptily into a spot, the thick metal collar around his neck dehumanizing him and making him look like a feral animal robbed of its freedom.
She hardened her heart when he briefly glanced at her, his menacing, green eyes reminded her of her nightmare a few days ago.
Marinette slammed the front door shut and locked it, the guns holstered to her reassuring her.
The two guards finally left with the woman and he exhaled heavily, the heavy tension that had seeped into every pore of his body finally leaving.
All eyes were gone, for now. He knew the woman wasn't a fool, she would send for two other officers as soon as she reached the precinct.
Chat Noir stood to his full height, the heavy chains around his wrists, neck and feet made him feel heavier than he was but he would have to bear with them for a while longer. He would need to look for exits.
The French windows were double locked, from outside and inside, one of the guards must've done it. Without his suit and his hands restrained, it was impossible to break through.
He walked towards the small storage room opposite of the woman's bedroom, eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness and trying to find something to rip the cloth binding his wrists.
Nothing.
Most items were harmless, heavier things he could use were too large to handle without free hands.
He stopped in front of the bedroom door, sighing and rolling his shoulders. The blond leaned forward and pressed his bound hands down on the doorknob.
It didn't budge.
He cursed under his breath, accidentally throwing one leg forward and making him slam into the door, rustling it but not breaking the lock. He groaned in pain, turning so his back was leaning into the smooth surface, biting his lip at the sharp pain in his skull and body, still healing from the injuries.
He stared up at the ceiling, trying to remember how long it's been since his capture.
A week.
Not even a full week.
His men would still be in hiding, they wouldn't start looking for him until at least a month passed until police activity died down.
He leaned his head back and sighed, feeling the stress feeding off his aggravation. He had to go back to his men, rival gangs would jump at the opportunity of Paris' number one criminal in chains and unable to defend his group.
He had capable men, women who could take down opponents twice their size, but in the long run, networks better equipped than most government bodies, but people were lost without a leader.
He pushed himself off the door, silently vowing to bide his time until another opportunity arose to escape. He couldn't underestimate the woman anymore, she proved a worthy opponent. He was glad his head was so thick and body well acquainted from many battles, those blows she dealt him could've incapacitated most others.
Chat Noir allowed a small smirk to grace his lips.
She would look good among his ranks.
"Lieutenant Dupaincheng?" Marinette lifted her head tiredly, eyes blinking up at dark blue tipped hair.
"Yes, Colonel Couffaine?" she sat up straighter, willing her tiredness to go away.
Luka watched her carefully, noting the tired sag of her shoulders, "You look tired. Is the criminal giving you trouble?"
Thinking back onto their small ordeal with breakfast, Marinette wrinkled her nose, "No, he's… behaved." She remembered back to the infirmary, when Luka came in, "Could we speak in private?"
He gestured towards his office, "Of course."
Bracing herself, Marinette followed Luka towards his office, feeling eyes on her back but ignoring them, smiling when he opened the door for her.
She was glad the blinds were already pulled down, she didn't like prying eyes, especially not if the information Luka would give her was possibly personal.
The tall man casually leaned against the wall, waiting expectantly, "You wanted to talk, Marinette?" his tone was softer, more comfortable with them alone.
Marinette bit her lip, thinking back on the harsh words Luka had uttered towards Chat Noir, "The other day…when Chat Noir was released from the infirmary," recognition dawned in his eyes but otherwise there was no reaction, "It looked like you…have met him before." Marinette had to choose her words carefully, she didn't want to offend him.
There was a long minute of silence before Luka rubbed the back of his neck, his voice quiet but even, "You…could say that." Something hardened in his normally kind blue eyes, "We met briefly, back when I used to be in the marine corps. I thought he was in the military too, since his skills were on par with my own training after he got into a brawl with one of my friends in the corp. As it turned out, he'd been building his criminal followings, not only petty thieves but skilled fighters, murderers, people with little regard to life." His face scrunched in worry, "I don't know what he did before, but he'd been on the streets a while when we met. I didn't know of his criminal background, until I heard it on the news. After finishing my military service, I ended up being the one tracking him for years."
Marinette swallowed, fingers twitching, "So you…you weren't friends or the like?" she felt oddly nervous even asking, to think someone like Luka could have criminal acquaintances.
The man snorted in amusement, "More like a cat and dog, though he insists on calling me a 'snake'." He smirked until the smile fell when his eyes settled on Marinette, "Always be on guard with him, he'll use every chance he gets to stab you in the back. Don't forget that Marinette. It's…not safe to be involved with him."
The young lieutenant nodded, trying to wrap her head around the fact Chat Noir could possibly have military training, which made his earlier words somewhat logical. She had thought he was possibly overconfident with his skills, but the fact he managed to nearly overpower her, handcuffed, showed he was not to be trifled with.
It may go against her personal morals to keep his neck and feet chained, but in her line of work, it was sometimes required.
Most of the time, those who wear those chains aren't human anymore.
She thought the same of Chat Noir.
Marinette exhaled loudly once she stretched in front of the precinct, Alya watching her with an amused smile, "Tired?"
She rubbed her back, "Not really…I mean, maybe just a little."
The reporter hummed as they began to walk towards their cars, "Wouldn't surprise me, you sleep with the devil in your house, after all."
The dark-haired woman shrugged half-heartedly, "He's not…" she bit her lip, "Can't argue there."
Alya turned to her best friend just before she could take out her car keys, "Just remember, this is your job, girl, not your life. If he tries anything funny again, throw him in the damn cell. I don't want to see you laying on that bed in the infirmary again, okay?"
"Alya, I know. Don't worry, he's as restrained as he could be. The only thing he lacks is a muzzle." She noticed the look on the reporter's face, "No, Alya."
The curvaceous reporter sighed in exasperation, "Fine, fine…but if he does do something-"
Marinette rolled her eyes, "-then you can buy a muzzle."
"-Then I will buy a muzzle." Alya repeated, both women shaking their heads and laughing at their silliness.
They bid each-other goodbye, Marinette opening her car and getting in, buckling up and checking her phone before she drove off.
A message from Luka.
"Hey, I know you're off to home but just a reminder – be careful, okay? I was really worried when you were in the infirmary." 14:40pm
Marinette smiled, feeling warmth rush through her before she typed back a reply, "That's really sweet of you Luka, but I'm fine, I promise. I'll be more careful from now on, so stop worrying so much."
She hit send and not even a full two minutes later did a reply come back.
"You know I can't help but worry, especially if it's you, Ma-Ma-Marinette." 14.41pm
Marinette covered her face, feelings of annoyance and fondness waging a war within her, before she furiously typed a reply.
Send.
Luka accepted the new stack of documents from his colleague, thanking the man for his hard work before his phone beeped with Marinette's ringtone.
A new message.
His heart fluttered when he read it.
"You'll never let me live that down will you? Well, guess we're even then, because I always worry about you."
He ran a hand down his face, trying to stop his heart from making somersaults.
This adorable woman was going to be the death of him.
Marinette had hummed the entire drive towards home, humming a senseless tune to pass the time, until finally her apartment came into view.
When she entered the parking space, she had a weird inkling feeling. As if something had happened.
Checking her guns again, Marinette exited her car, locking it and walking towards the door.
She stopped, carefully looking at the lock.
There were supposed to be two guards from the police here, but she couldn't see them anywhere. The lock didn't seem picked, there were no scratches or any other traces of a violent entry.
She took a deep breath and unlocked her door, keeping one hand resting above her gun.
Two pairs of shoes were in front of her door and her eyes narrowed.
Wait…
Those shoes seemed familiar…
"Welcome home, Marinette." A sweet voice called from the living room and Marinette's eyes flew open.
No, it couldn't be-
Marinette dropped her bag in the hallway and kicked off her shoes quickly, rushing towards the living room.
Chat Noir was still sitting where she'd left him, on the couch, only now his posture was much more rigid, as straight as an arrow. The fake black cat ears were drawn back flat against his messy blond hair, lips curled into a snarl and eyes narrowed in a glare Marinette was glad wasn't directed at her.
It was directed at the other two people in the room.
The redhaired woman smiled calmly, reassuringly when she looked at the dumbstruck lieutenant, "Hi Marinette, I'm sorry for dropping by so unannounced, we heard Chat Noir was here."
The dark haired male next to the woman smirked, green eyes an even brighter color than those of Chat Noir, almost glowing, "We heard a little kitten was here all alone."
Chat Noir growled.
Thanks for reading!