Chapter 7
Alix snorted softly, setting her cup down, "Hose monkey? You're the monkey, or did you forget?" she smiled at his confused frown, "With your grabby hands, you're perfect for climbing trees and saving cats."
Kim smiled, crossing his arms, "Grabby hands, huh? You should've went to the circus, maybe as an acrobat, since you love jumping and running around like a circus monkey."
The woman rolled her eyes, "That the best you got Chien? I thought police academy polished you up, guess physical training doesn't make up for the free space that's still in your skull."
Kim bumped his shoulder against the firefighter's, "Insult about my intelligence aside, are you saying you like how fit my body is?"
Alix rubbed the spot between her brows, "When your house is on fire, I won't come and save your ass."
Kim snorted, "If someone steals your skateboard, don't expect me to send out a search party."
Both adults turned their heads away from each-other, "Introducing: the professionals."
Kim and Alix turned their heads only to see Alya walking towards them, a notepad in the reporter's hands, "If it isn't Cesaire the bloodhound." Kim raised his coffee cup towards the woman while Alix sent her a smile.
"Ugh, finally, this guy's been getting on my nerves since I got here."
Kim snorted, "You got here two minutes ago, buckle up fire ant."
"That's more than enough for me to start losing braincells, bluebottle!"
Alya pulled herself a chair out and sat down, clearing her throat, "If you guys are done with marital quarrels, let's cut to the case." She produced a few papers from her bag, most folded, a bit worn, "These are some of my notes regarding the…" she looked around, leaning in to whisper to the two, "Chat Noir case."
Alix nodded, taking the papers and quickly scanning their contents while Kim skimmed over an eye witnesses report, "Did you talk to one of the guys in my department?" her eyes were narrowed, waving one sheet of paper at Alya, "This sounds like the description of the warehouse after we arrived there to douse the flames."
Alya nodded, pointing to a marked line on it, "Yeah and look at this little detail."
The pink haired woman didn't need to read to know what stood there, it had been her words Alya had referenced, "Right. The burn marks on the victims."
Kim turned his head towards the ladies, setting the report aside on his lap, "Burn marks? But that's normal, right? Since there was a fire?" he rose an eyebrow curiously.
Alix frowned, "Some bodies that hadn't been completely burned managed to give the police a few valuable clues, as far as I heard and saw anyway. On some of the bodies, on their arms, legs and backs were imprints of burn marks from cigarettes or other circular shaped objects."
Kim's confused expression didn't melt away, "So? It's not that uncommon, especially when dealing with illegal sex workers. If they smoked cigarettes, they did far worse and drugs and prostitutes usually go hand in hand."
The pink haired woman stirred her coffee impatiently, "It wasn't just that Kim, the children had been drugged too, they all suffered identical injuries like the adults." Alix shook her head, pointing to the information Alya gathered and underlining a specific sentence in the report, "Read this."
Cause of death:
Lysergic acid diethylamide
Ketamine
Lachryma papaveris
Kim rose an eyebrow, "Um…explain please, you know I was never good in chemistry." Kim turned the paper this way and that, trying to wrack his brain for chemical formulas he hadn't seen since his high school days.
Alix sighed, taking the paper back, "LSD, ketamine and opium."
The policeman's eyes widened, "What?!" a few patrons looked over and Kim cleared his throat, lowering his voice, "How the hell did they get their hands on that? I get LSD, the black markets leech off it, but ketamine? Opium? I thought that was a drug used in the old ages!"
Alya adjusted her glasses, gathering the papers into a pile again to put them in her bag, "Ketamine is actually used in medicine, it's used for the anesthesia to start taking effect and to not wear off. It's legal, but when used in higher, uncontrolled doses it can have the same effects as hallucinogenic drugs. Opium is mostly processed into a stronger form such as heroin, which amplifies its effects. The amount the toxicology report showed was thrice the amount capable of killing an adult person." The reporter crossed her arms over her bag after securing her notes inside, "There's also the issue about the bodies that were brutally mutilated."
Alix shifted in her seat, hearing about mutilated, sliced up bodies generally always sent a heavy feeling sitting in her stomach, she didn't flinch at burnt flesh but sliced up body pieces always made her retch.
Kim was different, he could handle everything but fire, specifically burnt corpses. He would wrinkle his nose in disgust, claiming he couldn't stand the smell, but Alix knew better. Being burned alive by flames is worse than death met by a pistol according to him, because the cause for death was one the victim couldn't control, didn't know. A human was different than the force of nature. Humans were terrifying, but nature was terrifying in its own right.
Kim, having been left in the dark about the details of the investigation, since he himself was of low rank, eagerly swallowed up every information like a sponge, Ivan and Marinette were bound to interest this, if Marinette didn't know it already, "Why would there be an issue?"
Alya pushed her hair behind her ear, taking a long sip of her coffee before she responded, her usually confident voice sounding insecure, "Well…they…they…none of them had Chat Noir's mark."
Alix stared at her blankly, "Mark? What mark?"
"Claws." Kim wasn't a detective, but every policeman, even those stuck on traffic patrols, knew of Chat Noir. Especially how he signed his crimes.
Whether on objects or victims, there was always a claw scratch or two left on the scene, they didn't know if Chat Noir was just proud of his achievements and marking his territory or if he was intentionally messing with the police, but a crime wasn't done by Chat Noir if there were no claw marks.
Those scratches marked the beginning of his criminal career as far as Kim had heard, since day one he'd signed his crimes that way, it would be out of character to suddenly stop right before getting caught, for the first time no less, by the police.
Alix shrugged, "Maybe he forgot? There was a fire, firefighters, police cars and ambulances were on their way."
Kim crossed his arms, scoffing, "Tch, that never stopped him. There were so many times where he slipped away from right beneath our fingers and each time he left his signature. Alya is right, something doesn't add up."
The firefighter rubbed her chin, "So, the information I had was still valuable after all, since it doesn't add up with Chat Noir's usual M.O. either."
Both adults nodded and Alya finally voiced out the thing that nobody dared to say out loud, "It looked like it was a setup."
It was only a few days after Tikki and Plagg's visit that the criminal's demeanor had changed.
Marinette had just come home from grocery shopping, for once deeming it safe enough to leave Chat Noir unsupervised in the few minutes she'd been gone, the stupid man had thrown a fit yesterday, over some TV cook and it had taken all of Marinette's strength to hold the man back from creating a Chat Noir-sized hole in her TV. After that ordeal, he'd been out like a light, sleeping through the night like a dangerous little baby.
She slowly set her grocery bags down onto the ground, taking off her shoes, ears straining to hear for any noise.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
It had only started yesterday, but Chat Noir had turned from a relatively silent prisoner to a nerve-wracking nuisance.
Picking up some noise in the bathroom, Marinette made a sharp turn and swung the door open, slamming open the cabinet above the toilet, "Aha!"
Empty.
Empty of Chat Noir.
Marinette soon found out the source of the noise.
It was on the floor.
Laying in shambles.
Was that the decorative, colored glass duck Rose had bought her as a present?!
Marinette's fists clenched.
There will be hell to pay.
Footsteps.
Now he would get it.
Marinette stormed towards the kitchen like a raging bull, normally light steps stomping on the floor noisily as she marched towards the living room first, furious bluebell eyes scanning her surroundings for the evil furrball hiding somewhere.
What was his problem?
What was her problem?
She could usually deal fine with criminals, so why was this one making so much-
"RAWR!"
Moving on instinct, Marinette dropped to the ground and rolled out of the way just as another body hit the spot she'd been standing on moments before.
It was Chat Noir.
Balanced on elbows and feet, on all fours, "You're home lieutenant."
Marinette scowled darkly, rising to her feet, "You-!" Chat Noir, despite his chained state, had lightning fast reflexes, jumping to his feet and rushing out of the living room, towards the bathroom.
Marinette, running on adrenaline and pure anger, stretched her arms out as far as they'd go and jumped, hands just barely catching ahold of his thighs as they both dropped to the floor like logs.
An annoyed huff, "You're no fun, lieutenant."
"And you're a dead man, Chat Noir!" despite her firm beliefs of never unnecessarily extorting power on the defenseless, the vice like grip she had around his forearm didn't deter her in the slightest from showing the stupid cat the damage he'd done, "Look at this!"
He turned his head instead.
Marinette grabbed his jaw and firmly pulled him back to look at the shattered remains of a blue colored glass duck, "Look what you did! My friend bought that for me you stupid criminal!"
Chat Noir snorted, lips pursed as the woman firmly held his jaw and cheeks in place, "Ish thoughtsht shicht wuss shtoy."
Something snapped in Marinette's brain, "You thought it was a toy?"
Her eye twitched when he nodded.
Marinette released him and huffed, storming out to grab her grocery bags and reorganize her kitchen, Chat Noir following behind her.
"Once we find your den, you'll pay me back for every stupid stunt you did in the past two days."
A day after Tikki and Plagg's visit, she noticed an odd change in Chat Noir's behavior.
He was a bit more carefree, or…free to do as he pleased. He would even crack jokes on occasion, the weirdest of them all were cat puns of all things.
He would actively annoy her.
Not with death threats or aggressive assaults or his passive aggressiveness.
But with puns.
He would also hide in unimaginable places.
In high cupboards, in small drawers where a normal human wouldn't even fit into like a cat and not miss an opportunity to tease or give her a heart attack.
She found her defenses slowly breaking, the tough cop persona she'd carefully crafted over her years of active duty had all shattered in the span of two days, after he'd not only shattered that glass duck, but also a vase and a not-so-cheap antique mini-sculpture her mom had brought her from China.
It was like some switch turned in him.
She didn't know how to turn it back. She much preferred his quiet, murderous aura from before than the evil nuisance he'd become.
It was when she packed yoghurt and milk into her fridge that she heard his voice from somewhere behind her, a safe enough distance that she didn't clobber him, but close enough that it seemed like he was in the kitchen and not the interconnected living room, "Why would anyone buy a friend some duck made from glass. And who puts that into their bathroom full of tiles?"
Marinette summoned all the patience she thought she still had, she was thankful her duty gun was locked in her night desk, she wasn't sure how safe her twitching hands were right now to not aim the barrel at the blond's head, "Other question: what grown man hides in miniature sized cupboards at night and waits until a trained officer enters her bathroom just to scare the crap out of her?"
Chat Noir remained silent for a few minutes, before the chains rattled, "Not my fault you don't provide entertainment for your house guests, lieutenant."
At this, Marinette practically slammed the milk into the side of the fridge door, setting them in place, "You're a criminal not a house guest. And my job is to keep you detained until your case clears up, not to entertain you."
He smirked, "Whatever you say, lady cop." Marinette resisted the urge to roll her eyes, trying to act professional with him.
She didn't know why his demeanor did a backflip, but she suspected it was a façade to let her guard down and be more comfortable with him.
She was a pro, she would not be fooled that easily.
Chat Noir watched her discreetly from the corner of his eye, putting away the groceries she'd bought earlier.
He stubbornly tore his gaze away whenever it strayed to her hips, staring at the ceiling or other unmoving objects instead.
Tch.
Clearing his throat, he tried sounding as non-interested as possible, "Any progress regarding my case?"
She didn't miss a beat, "If we did, I wouldn't tell you."
"So, nothing then." He clicked his tongue.
He heard an exasperated sigh and a small smile curved his lips. It was all the entertainment he had in the house, aside from the staring contests he had with Tweedledee and Tweedledum in the mornings and evenings and the occasional badmouthing of that TV cook.
He had stumbled upon this source of entertainment by accident.
It was in the evening after she'd told him she'd reported those asshole cops that had injured him and she'd cursed him out for spilling milk all over the countertop due to not having free hands to catch the cup before it fell.
He'd laid in his makeshift bed on the couch that night, thinking over her surprisingly open reaction. He hadn't expected her to curse him out, less viciously than he expected, it made him feel oddly…smug more than anything.
He'd also thought of her answer, how she told him the cops were dealt with and stripped off their ranks.
He was Chat Noir, leader of one of the most fearsome gangs in France, conqueror of turfs, expert thief and master lock picker, but he couldn't deny the oddly familiar rush of gratitude and something else when he heard that.
She'd went against people in her own workplace, on the same side of 'justice' and she had showed not an ounce of pity nor understanding for them.
That had been directed at him.
Understanding.
Something he hadn't experienced up until now, especially from so called government dogs like police officers.
It was a refreshing change.
It was a change.
A change he didn't want to admit but couldn't overlook.
He was aware Couffaine was similar, as much as he hated his guts and wanted to claw the snake's eyes out, he would much rather be locked in a room with him than fifty shady cops.
His eyes strayed to the lady cop again and he nearly jumped when he saw bluebell eyes intently staring at him, "What?" his tone was snippy, defenses up on high alert.
Had she seen something? Why was she looking at him so weirdly? He didn't very much appreciate being sneaked up on.
She sat down opposite of him at the kitchen table, staring him straight in the eye, "Listen, I know you're acting so differently to lure me in with a false sense of security, so I can drop my guard and take those chains off you." He stiffened, sitting up straighter in his chair, "I don't underestimate you, so you don't underestimate me. You're a criminal and I'm the one who will lock you behind bars, you won't escape from me Chat Noir." The look in her eyes would've made him feel proud if she'd been on his side, so fierce and determined it awakened a thirst for battle in him.
He knew he couldn't sway her with charms, he'd tried, so the direct approach had been the best to work between them so far, "I don't doubt your intelligence lieutenant, however I truly am bored to death here." He waved his bound hands for emphasis, but her eyes narrowed further, a scowl marring her features, "I also never underestimate my opponents, which explains how I'm the most dangerous criminal in France you've sunk your claws into."
"Then do me a favor and stop destroying my house."
He sighed, long and hard, "Then give me something to do."
She rose an eyebrow, "Watch TV."
He growled, "Right." If his eyes had rolled any further, they'd have sunk to the back of his skull, "You seem to favor that stupid cooking show, I detest that cook. Have you seen what he did to croissants?"
Marinette nearly ripped her hair out, "I don't care what he did to them! You have two options: watch TV and behave or nag me and get punished for annoying me!"
Chat Noir stood up to his full height, something akin to dark amusement flashing in his eyes, "And how do you plan to purrish me, little lady?"
If looks could kill, he'd already be beneath the ground he stood on.
She stood up from her chair, attempting to pass by him to the living room, "I'm not going to play your games."
He shifted to block her way, "Why not?" he tilted his head, a dark grin curling his lips, eyes alight with mirth, "It may be purrty pawsome to try miss lieutenant."
His smirk widened when she tried moving to the other side, but he easily moved his body to intercept her again, again blocking her way. He could see the mounting fury in her eyes, it did amuse him slightly.
"Chat Noir." His name fell from her lips in a threatening tone he wished was more directed at a certain snake than himself.
"Yes, lieutenant?" his smirk froze when he felt her suddenly press closer to his body and shove her leg in-between his ones. Years of training prevented him from jumping when he felt her leg rise, knee about reaching his thighs. His eyes shot to her own unflinching gaze, silently contemplating why she went into such a position.
What was she-
"If you don't move out of my way you'll end up in the infirmary for an entirely different injury."
Oh.
He couldn't help it, he chuckled, "Meowch, lieutenant and here I thought we were furriends." He grinned, but in the next second, moved at lightning speed.
Chat Noir raised his locked hands, attempting to slam them to the side of her head and into the cupboard next to them.
He would be lying when he said he expected her to react as fast as she did, but he was satisfied with her quick reflexes, "I see you didn't let your guard down, smart woman." He moved again, twisting his body to attempt another attack.
What he hadn't expected was the fast kick to his jaw, it momentarily stunned him and that was all she needed to gain the upper hand.
With his hands and feet chained as they were, it was easy for her to throw him onto his back on the floor and pin him down, one hand pressed against his stomach and the other holding a small knife against his neck.
Their eyes locked and he hissed, trying to overpower her with sheer strength but she surprisingly held her own, the hand on his stomach harshly pressing him down as the blade pressed against his skin. It was the dull side of the blade.
"You think your little act was enough to make me drop my guard?" he glared up at her, gritting his teeth.
"Seems I took it a little too lightly in trying to get you on my good side, hm?" the joking nature of his voice was entirely lost to the highly alerted cop above him.
"'Good' side, huh? Try coming onto the 'legal' side for starters." He huffed, craning his neck away from the blade pressed against it.
"Would you look at that, armed at all times, aren't we lieutenant?" it was just a second, but a second he made count, "Unfortunately, I'll get the upper hand in this fight."
In the brief second where the blade wasn't pressed against his neck, Chat Noir raised his hips harshly and bucked her off, using the momentum and his legs to propel himself above her, his bound hands wrapping around the front of her neck after he got his arms over her head.
It was difficult to choke her like this, as his hands were entirely covered in tough fabric and impossible to use them functionally, but he could attempt it nonetheless.
He didn't think it would be easy, as she proved it immediately.
"Argh! Get off me!" She was moving wildly, the small knife discarded somewhere away from her and Chat Noir evaded her hands, headbutting her from the back instead.
Marinette's forehead hit the floor after the headbutt, a pained groan escaping her as Chat Noir used her momentary dizziness to his advantage and tried choking her by pushing her head down harshly.
"Mmphff!"
The woman struggled like a wild cat, nails digging into the floor, body still trying to push him off frantically until she gradually started to still.
He only moved when she stopped moving completely.
It was over.
Chat Noir panted heavily, blood still boiling with adrenaline from their scuffle.
He slowly tried sitting up and then it happened.
He made a mistake rookies normally did.
He relaxed.
A blinding force slammed into the back of his head and his eyes flew open when the cop bucked him off, sliding her head out of the choke hold of his arms. He realized it had been her foot that had struck him from the back.
He was weightless for a second, the same feeling before he'd gotten thrown into the TV weeks ago, his legs automatically wrapped around the cop's waist when he crashed onto the kitchen table.
And took her with him.
Marinette was livid.
She slammed her elbow into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him and his legs loosened their iron hold on her waist, completely sliding off when her head met his jaw in a painful collision.
The feline criminal groaned, legs curling in at the sharp pain in his side from the elbow hits.
He peeked one eye open.
Marinette was panting heavily, body leaned against the wall as she tried catching her breath, face and neck red from either their scuffle or keeping her breath in.
He hissed at the jab of pain not only in his stomach, but on his still healing leg.
Damn. He forgot about that.
Her gaze was murderous, locked onto his own glaring one, "You were saying?"
He grit his teeth in frustration, hissing at the pain.
She was holding her side when his eyes closed shut.
"I'm sending him to La Sante." A distant, eerily familiar male voice surrounded him, somewhere, it was somewhere close but far away.
"Don't, I'm alright." Another voice, this time female. It also sounded familiar.
His senses were muddled. He felt like he was swimming in clouds of fog, unable to see or feel much.
Except for the damn headache.
Was that his stomach? His stomach was killing him.
His leg burned too.
"You're not! Look what he tried to do to you! Marinette, I won't stand by and wait. Not this time."
Ah, the lady cop.
Wait…
Who was the other voice?
Chat Noir tried to move, but he couldn't really feel his body or where he was. Was he even awake? Was he dreaming?
What happened?
The rhythmic pounding in his head got worse and Chat Noir tried to open his eyes but still only saw darkness.
Slowly, achingly slowly, he started feeling all the pain his body was in. He could hear more clearly, it sounded like the voices were somewhere near him.
"Luka please, I'm fine. These are superficial injuries. I managed to detain him." The softer, female voice of the lieutenant drifted into his mind, it sounded far lighter than the deeper, harsher tones she used with him, it sounded feminine, light, friendly.
Warm.
'Ugh, my head.' Chat Noir felt disembodied, as if he wasn't really there, but he slowly started feeling his body, or what he thought were his limbs, his fingers were slowly wiggling, but in some confined space.
Was he still bound?
Where even was he? He smelled chemicals.
Wait…
It suddenly hit him.
She said 'Luka'.
White hot rage filled him suddenly and Chat Noir felt a burst of heat in the pit of his stomach.
Couffaine!
What was that snake doing here?!
Chat Noir slowly tried opening his eyes, immediately being assaulted by something blinding and painful.
Was that the light? Why was it so bright?
He groaned, head lulling from side to side until his eyes slowly fluttered open, heavy lids slowly raising until his muddled view cleared after blinking a few times.
White.
The smell of chemicals.
Medicine.
He recognized that room.
The infirmary.
"Marinette." Chat Noir turned his head, he knew that voice, it was Couffaine's, "You're lucky you don't have a concussion or any fractures, but please listen to me. I'll send him to La Sante, he'll get a taste of his own medicine there until the investigation ends."
He detected the anger in the former marine's tone, anger usually reserved for him.
He himself had plenty to spare for that scaly bastard.
His gaze finally focused again and it landed on two figures a few feet in front of him with him sitting somewhere on the floor.
Marinette was sitting upright on the infirmary bed, a gauze wrapped around her head, a cut bottom lip and a darkening bruise on her chin. Luka's larger frame was sitting next to her, a hand resting lightly on her cheek while the other rested on her knee.
He wondered if he looked as beaten up as her.
He froze when he saw something shiny on her face and realized that it was a tear, sliding down the expanse of her cheek down her jaw before she quickly wiped it away, a sob escaping her.
It was a soft sound but it stirred something within him.
Something deep within his chest.
A memory.
Blurred images of a smudged window and a dirt path guarded by a towering gate, a boy's cries echoing in his mind.
He returned back to the present when a low voice caught his attention, "You…"
Chat Noir lifted his head, spotting Couffaine sitting up from the infirmary bed, gaze murderous, lips pulled back into an angry snarl.
"Luka wait-!"
The former marine charged forward.
The uppercut delivered to his jaw barely registered to Chat Noir at first, his mind was swimming even more, as if his entire body was separated from his head.
He punched him.
Chat Noir spat out blood, teeth gritting together in anger. His cheek stung as if fire burned him until he realized he'd bitten the inside of his cheek to curb the pain.
The asshole was still towering over him, fist shaking in unadulterated anger and Chat Noir hissed sharply, despite his dizziness and the pain he was in, instincts kicked in, making him jump to his feet.
The only thing keeping him from clawing the snake's eyes out was a force keeping him on the spot.
It was a thick restraining leather band, wrapped around his waist.
Chat Noir growled when it applied pressure to the sore spot on his side but turned his head back to glare at his opponent.
Luka didn't waste another opportunity.
He swung his fist out again.
Chat Noir fell to his knees, crying out through clenched teeth at the added explosion of pain. It nearly blinded him, his eyes shutting automatically closed.
"Stop!"
Everything seemed to stop.
Time seemed to stand still.
Chat Noir remained motionless, torso quivering slightly from the bursts of pain as he whimpered pathetically on the floor, chained and bound like a dog.
He didn't feel the iron hard fists beating upon him anymore, he had doubted Couffaine still had it in him, but a marine was still a marine even if he didn't don the uniform anymore.
He should've known better.
Still, what made him stop attacking him? Surely not the lady cop's words?
Taking a quivering breath, trying to ignore the pain it sent shooting down his spine, Chat Noir slowly opened his eyes.
Red greeted him, the red clad back of the lieutenant kneeling in front of him.
Shielding him.
Couffaine was still out for blood but his expression softened when he looked directly at the woman in front of him, "Marinette, move."
"No!" her voice was fierce, a complete contrast to the soft whimper it was before, "I won't! I won't allow you to hurt him Luka!"
"He hurt you! He could've killed you Marinette!" even Chat Noir almost flinched at the loud volume of the former marine's voice, even back in the day, the man rarely lost his composure.
He had definitely lost it now.
"I know!" her body trembled, as if the action was physically exhausting her, "I-I know, I know he could've Luka. He just wanted to escape, he's a criminal, I would've done the same in his stead." Shock filled him to the bones at her words and Chat Noir remained completely still, "I'll strengthen security, I won't go near him anymore I promise. I was careless, he took advantage of it, you can't blame him for thinking like a caged animal when he is treated like one!"
She lifted her head, her heavy stare boring into Luka and the Colonel's fists shook in barely suppressed anger, "Please. Do it for me, Luka."
A moment of tension-filled silence, Chat Noir himself thought Couffaine would have a go at him again, despite her words, but instead he growled and turned sharply, exiting the infirmary.
When his gaze strayed to the door, it was the first time Chat Noir saw that reporter woman often seen on TV. She looked scared, angry and concerned all at once as she watched them like a hawk.
His eyes moved back to the woman before him, still kneeling, until she slowly, shakily moved to her feet.
It was slow, her knees shaking as if she would collapse any second, but the reporter was already by her side, an arm around her back as the two women slowly walked out of the infirmary.
Before they were completely outside, Chat Noir swore he heard the words the lieutenant whispered beneath her breath.
'Stupid cat'.
Thanks everyone for reading! :3 How was the chapter so far?
Translations:
Bluebottle – old term for police (referring to old style uniforms)
Blue canary – term mostly used by firefighters for police officers
Hose monkey – used by police officers for firefighters