A/N: Hi guys! I'm so sorry for taking so long to write this up, writer's block was really...troublesome. Anyway, I have some great news! :3 Someone offered to actually draw FANART for this story! Can you believe it? I was so freaking happy! :D haha They said it should take about two-three weeks until it's done, but I'll upload the art on my tumblr page as soon as it's done if you're interested!

Tumblr: lady-charinette

Chapter 12

Marianne stood up, raising a placating hand to rest on the tense man's shoulder. "Calm down chaton, I think she deserves to know."

His eyes were narrowed when he glanced at her but softened slightly, as if reluctant to inflict the scorching scrutiny he felt upon her. "She's a cop investigating against me, if you tell her anything she could use, she'll endanger the others."

The others? Who were 'the others'? The 'kittens' Chat Noir mentioned earlier? Were they his friends or fellow criminals? Marinette bit her lip, a fierce fire burning in her heart, wishing to just shout out all the questions she had and solve the case. It didn't seem like Chat Noir would co-operate.

Marianne shook her head, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. "Marinette isn't like that, you can trust her." The look she gave him reminded him of home, of years spent carefree and safe, of years that passed. "You can trust me."

His fists shook at his sides and Marinette spied the way his jaw worked, obviously battling his instincts of not trusting her.

And then, she made a decision when she stood, leveling them both with a calm look. "Marianne, it's fine, if he doesn't want to trust me, it's fine." For a moment, Marianne looked at her with understanding and a kind smile, as if expecting that answer, but then Marinette's lips twisted into a frown. "I'll find out one way or another."

Chat Noir snorted, as if expecting her answer and motioned towards her with his head, lips pulled back into a snarl and a sharp hiss escaping him. "See? I told you she can't be trusted." If he had a real cat tail, Marinette imagined it would move erratically behind him.

The elder woman tried coming in between them, her voice soft as she tried breaking the tension in the room. "Marinette! Please! I know you're more understanding than this, I trust Chat Noir when he says he's innocent."

Before Marinette could diffuse the situation, Chat Noir's hand was on Marianne's shoulder, a gloomy shadow over his eyes and lips set into a thin line. "I'm not, madame." His voice was soft, a stark contrast to the earlier dark tone. "I long since stopped being innocent." When he met her eyes, they were pained, almost ancient looking, as if he'd suffered through every thing the world had to offer.

Marinette was taken aback by the look, but the elder woman didn't seem to be, she seemed to understand it, almost to the point of being…familiar with it. As if he'd always had that look about him.

What her neighbor did next, none of the adults expected.

She turned around and hugged the man, the criminal, tightly to her smaller frame, arms wrapped around him and fiercely pushing his head to her shoulder, like a mother would hug her child.

For several moments, none of them moved, but Chat Noir had started to raise his hands.

Marinette tensed, as if expecting an attack, for him to somehow harm the elderly kind lady she'd come to enjoy spending the occasional days with, but instead, his arms came to hug her back, gently, almost as if he was terrified of breaking her.

A deep shuddering breath left him and he buried his face into her greying hair, completely hiding his expression from the silent policewoman behind them watching their every move.

And in that moment, in the sudden stillness of the room and the peacefulness and warmth shared between the two still hugging people, Marinette wondered if the rules her job dictated her to follow were worth following if it meant breaking up what she saw before her.

A family.

It was another half an hour of talking, mostly between Chat Noir and Marianne or Marinette and her, until the old woman left, with the promise to check up on them occasionally.

The stillness was back in the room, but lacking the distinctive familial warmth it had before. Now it was just still and nothing else.

Marinette was the first to break the silence, grabbing her apartment keys, wallet and a large duffel bag. "Let's go." Chat Noir didn't question her oddly enough, just pausing to drain the rest of the coffee still left in his mug, before setting it aside on the table, fingers brushing against its porcelain surface. Marinette's gaze briefly flickered to it, before she led Chat Noir outside, a more reinforced version of the standard issued cuffs back on him, along with something black and fluffy dangling on her fingertips.

The look Chat Noir gave her could've brought even Kim to his knees. "No." his answer was simple and firm and he would not.

The policewoman left no room for argument, stretching the material over his hands, each glove long enough to cover the silver of the cuffs. She couldn't do anything about the chain dangling between, she just hoped not too many people would notice so long as he kept his hands low.

"We don't want to attract too much attention."

He huffed. "Right." His gaze pointedly traveled to her hips, more precisely the small of her back, where he knew she'd a concealed gun or two strapped to her. He tried not to linger on her hips, aware of her bluebell eyes focused on him.

She rolled her eyes, pulling him along by the chain. "They're hidden."

"And I'm a woman." Came the sarcastic remark.

Marinette couldn't resist. "Explains your fussiness."

"You're insulting your own gender, cop."

"I'm insulting the limited group it refers to, criminal."

They fell back into the venomous banter they'd shared on occasions, gone was the mildly lighter atmosphere from this morning after their initial scuffle and the doctor's visit.

Marinette thought back to the strange moment before Marianne had come into her apartment with her spare keys as they walked down the road with Chat Noir keeping step beside her.

Why had he sneaked up on her like that while she made coffee? Why had he been so close? Had that been a failed sneak attack? Had he wanted to knock her out and flee? Her healing injuries throbbed at the thought, knowing another physical confrontation would be risky. The only reassurance it gave her was, that he was injured too.

Discreetly, she glanced beside her at the man, watching his longer strides as they slowed to keep pace with her shorter strides, the way his body slowly began to relax the longer they were outside.

His eyes were closed, head tilted back as the wind blew in his face and messed up his already messy hair. It almost looked like...he was enjoying it?

Chat Noir inhaled deeply, chest pushing out before he exhaled, as if savoring the breath of fresh air he got. Marinette stared, having never seen such an expression on him before. It almost looked alien, as if it didn't belong there.

Much to her chagrin, the idiot had noticed her staring, even with his eyes closed. How he managed to walk in a straight line with closed eyes, Marinette wouldn't know.

"See something interesting lieutenant?" the snark was back full force and Marinette wished she could at least thump his head if not for the threat of being accused of unlawful abuse of power as a police officer.

She settled for a quick but meaningful tug at his chains, which caused a frown to cross his previously peaceful expression. "The neighbors have a new dog."

When Chat Noir turned his head to inspect, he was met with a tank of a dog, a German Sheppard if memory served right, larger than average, it's wary gaze staring straight at him.

He would've understood the staring had he been in the suit, but this undivided attention was unwarranted. What was that dog's problem.

Despite himself, Chat Noir hissed, eyes narrowed at the canine.

The dog growled, before it barked, suddenly standing up from its position on the porch, rushing down the steps and on the grass. Chat Noir jumped, until he noted the chain around the dog's neck, keeping it from stepping outside of the garden and the fence around it.

Marinette noticed the jump with an amused smile, eyebrows raising in smugness. "Is the kitty scared of a little dog?"

Chat Noir's look was borderline murderous when it met her smug expression and he wished he wasn't restrained. "That dog is larger than it's average size. I'll gladly throw you over the fence and get you acquainted, lieutenant."

Her raised eyebrow was a challenge as it stared him down, his gaze remained unflinching on her. "Bold of you to assume you can throw me over a fence."

He grinned, all teeth. "Bold of you to assume I can't."

Marinette was the first to break their staring contest, grip tightening around her bag, smiling at familiar faces that passed her by as they neared the marketplace.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle." The sudden greeting startled them both and Marinette quickly turned her head to spot who greeted her.

Oh no.

It was mister Ramier.

"M-mister Ramier! Bonjour!" Marinette smiled brightly, internally screaming at the untimely appearance of the man. She liked him, if not pitied him for his, shamefully often, visits to the precinct for feeding pigeons and attracting them with a whistle.

She had no idea where he constantly purchased a new whistle, but the police, sometimes even Marinette herself, had to apprehend him and take it away from him. She figured they had well over twenty-four of those whistles stashed somewhere by now.

He was a kind enough man, treating her to coffee or ice-cream when he felt guilty for taking up her time with 'arresting' him when she had desk duty. She would always smile and brush it off, saying she was there to help, but he would always insist to repay her kindness one way or another.

He was holding a small white pigeon statue in his hands with a blue bow on its neck, humbly offering it to the bewildered police woman. "This is for you madame! I wanted to thank you for setting me free before my discharge at the precinct and your unending kindness and patience." There was a blush of embarrassment on his cheeks and Marinette laughed, appreciatively accepting his gift, admiring the craftsmanship.

She didn't know much about him, but the older man, aside from his obsession with pigeons, seemed to of the creative type, if his craftsmanship was any evidence in the carefully made pigeon statue.

She smiled. "Thank you very much, Mr. Ramier, you really didn't have to. It's all I can do when the boss doesn't look." She giggled, knowing Luka would never keep the kind man in a cell overnight just for feeding pigeons, but he had the pressure to exactly follow the rules sometimes more than she did.

The man tipped his hat, smiling. "Nonsense! All those times you had to apprehend me for my bad habits, I apologize once again madame." He bowed his head respectfully, before tipping his hat towards Chat Noir. "Ah, bonjour young man."

The criminal nodded, an unfamiliar, deceptively kind smile on his lips. "Bonjour, monsieur." Marinette was mildly surprised how polite and…nice he sounded.

Mr. Ramier glanced at the blond, before noticing the gloves on his hands and the silver chain dangling between his wrists. "Oh what is this? A chain?" his face twisted into confusion and before Marinette could answer, a smug smirk curled Chat Noir's lips.

Like the cat that got the canary.

And he opened his mouth. "Oh this?" he lifted his hands high, so that the man had a very good look. "It's nothing, just a little toy my beloved princess gifted me. You know, between us, I usually like to keep things private, but sometimes, even I can't resist the charm of exploring things out of my comfort zone."

Mr. Ramier, bogeyed stared curiously at the younger male. "Comfort zone?" he failed to note the increasingly panicked look on Marinette's face.

"Wait, I-" Marinette was cut off by Chat Noir.

A sharp toothed smirk and a salacious wink greeted the man's increased confusion. "Oh yes, monsieur! While I myself am not such a deviant, my princess here loves to explore things even outside of the bedroom! You see, being a policewoman, she has access to all sorts of equipment, she frequently uses chains and handcuffs on me, not that I mind, but when she brings out the baton, that's where it gets exciting-"

"B-Baton?!" Mr. Ramier, scarlet faced, looked like on the verge of having a heart attack, before Marinette moved behind Chat Noir and began pushing him forward roughly.

"I'm very sorry Mr. Ramier! Thank you for the gift again and have a lovely day!" she quickly pocketed the pigeon statue as she shouted over the dead sprint Marinette set, forcefully pushing the cackling man before her forward.

"Bye, bye mister Ramier!" Chat Noir was laughing like he never laughed before, his steps staggering with the unmovable force behind him and his laughter.

"You perverted crook! I should've let you alone with that dog!" she beat her small fists against his back, lightly, to escape charges she told herself, until his shoulders suddenly started to shake. Marinette paused, fists resting on his back. "Chat Noir?"

When she peeked over his shoulder, she could see him wiping at his eyes. Dread quickly started filling the pit of her stomach. Had she hit his wounds? Did they reopen?! Was he in such pain that he started to cry?!

When Marinette fully walked around Chat Noir to his front, his reaction stunned her.

He was laughing.

That bastard.

Renewed anger wedged itself in her heart and Marinette was on the verge of beating him again. "Y-You- You!" her voice shook from the rage and embarrassment.

What would Mr. Ramier think now? Would he think of her as too unprofessional to be trusted? Would he report her? Would he never entrust her with protecting his pigeons again?

Marinette could already picture the news headlines.

'Parisian police woman engaging in deviant activities with dangerous criminal!'

'Police woman misusing police equipment for personal sex plays with captured criminal!'

'Criminal found shot dead after allegedly engaging in suspicious sexual activities with officer woman before her suicide!'

Marinette shook her head, no, no, no! She couldn't think like that! All she hoped was that this never reached Luka! What would he think of her if he ever heard?!

'…Wow…I never took you for that kind of woman Marinette, I think we shouldn't see each-other anymore.'

Marinette dug her fingers into her hair, gnawing at her bottom lip until low chuckles reached her ears.

Chat Noir, the bastard, was still chuckling, wiping away at his eyes before he took several deep breaths and composed himself, holding his stomach gingerly. "Phew, damn, that was a purrty good laugh if you ask meow."

There was something strange about this view, this view of Chat Noir she was seeing.

He looked carefree, a big smile on his face, the black mask not seeming menacing or dark, but playful, as if it added to his charm.

He didn't have too bad of a laugh either.

Quickly slapping her cheeks, Marinette hit the chuckling man with her duffel bag, which had no effect at all thanks to its lightness. "Easy for you to say! Ugh, now people will think I'm some sort of weird sexual deviant."

They resumed their walk, thankfully, coming closer towards the market ahead, yet to be fully visited by its patrons this early in the morning. Chat Noir released another short chuckle, amusement coloring his voice. "Would it be that bad? You're human, aren't you? Besides, as if all cops don't try out their equipment for that at least once. Don't lie, lady cop."

His smirk was firmly plastered to his face, even with the glare she sent his way. "Not everyone is as….as sick as you! There may be questionable police officers, but I highly doubt any of us abused our work equipment like that!" her cheeks were pink, at least she thought so, if the intense heat on her face was anything to go by.

Chat Noir shook his head, appearing to be in a better mood than before. "Well, if you told me I could lighten the mood by making sex jokes, I'd done that long ago!" the suggestive wiggling of his eyebrows spelled future trouble and Marinette jabbed a finger at his nose, catching him off guard.

"If you even dare try that again, I'll purchase a basement and throw you in it!"

"That's abuse of power!"

"It's for protection!" she shouted back.

"Just like condoms are but I don't see you using th-ow! Meowch!" a hand was tugging on his ear and Chat Noir relented, being pulled down to Marinette's height, a death glare straight in his face.

"Listen you mangy cat! One more inappropriate word from you and I'll order Luka to watch over you from now on!" she was dead serious, eyebrows drawn together and eyes narrowed dangerously.

Chat Noir huffed, hissing at the ringing pain in his ear. "Tch, you can't order him around, he's your superior isn't he?" he rose an eyebrow, seriously questioning if she could.

She turned her nose in the air, huffing. "Oh really? If I ask nicely and file in a detailed form why I'm unable to continue watching over you, it's either him or La Sante." Chat Noir bristled, scoffing indignantly.

"I'll choose prison anytime, thanks." His curt answer made her sigh and she shook her head.

Finally, after the agonizing stunt earlier, silence settled between them as they reached the marketplace, a few people looking at the wares here and there, some stall owners still setting up their produce.

Marinette didn't need much, just some vegetables, meat and fruits. She hadn't had half as much time to shop, especially with her house guest taking up nearly all her attention.

What would they even eat today? She couldn't just randomly buy food.

She glanced at the silent man beside her, contemplating whether or not she should ask for his input.

She decided against it, he'd humiliated her enough today, he would eat whatever she would, she didn't care if he didn't like it. He made her suffer, so she could allow herself to make him suffer a bit too.

She heard a soft hiss, watching as Chat Noir winced and held his side, his injuries probably acting up again.

Marinette frowned, feeling her heart clench in sympathy, but the professional side of her stubbornly curbed down the feeling, trying not to let these feelings cloud her judgement and duty.

He hurt you! He could've killed you, Marinette!

She froze mid-way on entering the grocery store, quickly regaining her step after faltering for a moment, absentmindedly grabbing a shopping cart.

Luka's words echoed in her mind.

I'm sending him to La Sante.

He hurt you!

She had tried to soothe his anger, his concern for her. Marinette would never admit it, not to him, but it had scared her seeing him like that, angry and out of control, it wasn't the usual calm, composed man who meditated and played music to soothe others. It was the marine they'd conditioned to kill and Marinette had feared the marine would've won the fight had she not pleaded for mercy for Chat Noir.

Please Luka, do it for me.

She remembered the expression on his face, remembered seeing the inner battle raging a war within him.

He was fighting against protecting his friend and acting on duty, she knew the struggle all too well. If one didn't completely isolate themselves, it was a constant struggle that never went away with the job.

You took the troubles from work home, but you always hope that you never bring home into work, not because you couldn't but because it's dangerous.

Marinette had heard of too many police officers losing partners in duty, family members, friends who got involved and went to the wrong place at the wrong time.

She was lucky, or not, that most of her friends worked in a environment where danger was second nature. Luka used to be a marine, Alix was a fire fighter, Juleka was a pathologist, Kim and Ivan were police officers, Alya was a reckless, scoop-obsessed reporter and Nino was known to tread in circles where it was better to have a gun than a friendly smile. Not even 'innocent' job professions like the music industry were free of criminal activity, Marinette had apprehended too many fallen stars, either due to drug abuse or physical disputes between artists.

The only people she thought were relatively safe were Rose and Nathaniel, Rose was a florist and Nathaniel an artist, but due to their connection to Juleka and Marinette and the others, even they weren't completely safe.

"Hey, are we going to stand here all day?" Chat Noir tilted his head, watching the faraway expression on the cop's face warily.

Why was she zoning out? He could use this opportunity to get away!

Granted, with his hands cuffed and foot adorned with a darned tracking device, he wasn't sure how far he would come before he found something to untie his hands. Slipping free from handcuffs wasn't difficult, but the reinforced ones were smaller, more jagged and constricted the more you struggled.

He glanced outside through the shop windows. He wasn't too keen on wandering around, not with his limited knowledge of the terrain, thankfully the cop brought him with her. He had a good opportunity to memorize his surroundings and map out possible escape routes.

A tug on his chains made him freeze. "Let's get going." He snorted at her but said nothing, following her as she picked out some leeks, a bundle of carrots, celery root, parsley and salad.

He watched in disinterest, spying chicken meat, something that vaguely looked like fruit, kiwis, apples, bananas and-

His eyes blew wide open and he reflexively leaned over her back, chest pressed to her back, causing a startled yelp to escape the smaller woman. "Hey! What are you-"

"Is…Is that passion fruit?" it has been a little weakness of his since his younger days, he loved that fruit to bits.

"Ow, get off me! And yes, it is passion fruit. What about it?" the cop glanced at him in confusion and bewilderment, obviously not appreciating his sudden closeness.

He cleared his throat, moving away, finally putting some distance between them. "…Nothing." He straightened himself, remembering his place.

It wasn't like they were going shopping together.

He tagged along due to his unique status as a criminal, he was more like a toddler to be supervised.

His input wasn't needed nor wanted.

He turned his head, watching the other people, mostly couples, families, some old people and the occasional lonely souls buying pre-made food.

Chat Noir heard several thuds, before turning is head towards the shopping cart the lady cop was pushing.

In it, beside the vegetables and the meat, was a bundle of four, maybe five purple and yellow passion fruits.

He desperately tried to fight down the vaguely familiar feeling in his chest at the sight, walking alongside her and the cart.

It felt oddly like contentment.

Half an hour later…

"I can't believe you're abusing your charge like this."

Marinette fixed him with an exasperated glare. "Firstly, you're not my charge, you're a criminal I need to watch over."

"Same thing."

"Secondly," she pursed her lips, fighting back a smile. "This was the only way I saw you making yourself useful."

Chat Noir frowned, trudging beside her, carrying the largest of the bags, the two long straps right over his head, the duffel bag covering most of his torso and with it the sight of his bound hands.

"Labor abuse." He snarked.

Marinette wished she could flip him the bird. "Mental torment."

Chat Noir looked at her aghast. "I'm not mentally purrmenting you! You got a few screws loose, lieutenant."

"Uh-huh. If I do, then there's a whole cog missing with you."

Chat Noir paused, as if contemplating her remark, before shrugging even with the heavy bag around him. "Touché."

The silence only lasted for precious seconds before he opened his mouth again. "So, what are we eating today?"

"Stir fried rice with meat and vegetables. And soup."

Chat Noir thought for a moment before deciding it fit his palette. "…Good choice. Approved."

"Thankfully the mighty Chat Noir approved."

"Someone's hissy."

She suddenly rounded on him and Chat Noir was mildly glad the big duffel bag was between them, least the lieutenant punched a hole through his chest.

Her bluebell eyes screamed murder. "Luka or La Sante?"

Those two words landed like a brick wall between them, shutting down all and any silly things Chat Noir thought to say during their short walk back to her apartment, grumbling silently under his breath as he followed her, muttering about stupid snakes and stuffy prisons.

And moody lieutenants.

"I'm heading out Jule. Take care." He waved at his sister a final time, getting a wave and smile back before walking towards the elevator and breathing in the better air inside.

Going into the morgue was never very…pleasant smelling, he seriously respected Juleka for entering that field of work, also due to the intense smell one had to get used to. Still, he always visited her whenever he could, despite the smell.

Leaning against the elevator wall, Luka took out his phone and checked his messages, seeing a message from Marinette.

He rose an eyebrow at the strange sentences.

'I'm THIS close to strangling him! I swear, if he makes a inappropriate joke ONE more time!'

Luka frowned, scrolling down further.

'Do you know what he said to Mr. Ramier? He actually insinuated I'm into – into BDSM play! He said I used the cuffs on him Alya! He said it gets 'exciting' when I use the baton! ThE BATON! AlYA help! I don't know what to do anymore!'

Luka, with increasing confusion and amusement, scrolled down further.

'I threatened him, I finally did. He stopped, the cat obviously knows what's good for him. I threatened him by either sending him to Luka for supervising or to La Sante. He said he'll behave, if I'd known this sooner I'd have done that. It would've spared poor Mr. Ramier. Who knows what he thinks of me now? He'll never trust me with his pigeons again, Alya!'

The man stifled a chuckle, scrolling down further. Did she compare him to La Sante?

'What if Luka somehow finds out about this?! I'd DIE if he ever hears what that stupid criminal said, Alya! It's so embarrassing! Can you believe Chat Noir said he was sure at least half of us used our equipment for 'that'? Can you? No wait, don't answer that, you would probably agree.'

Luka chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

He glanced up at the display, six more floors to go….

His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he began typing his reply, a small blush on his cheeks.

Marinette carefully secured the mug, making sure not to touch its sides as she closed the plastic zip bag and quickly wrote Chat Noir's name on it, for Juleka to inspect for fingerprints.

If he wasn't in their database, then she would eat a sock.

She glanced behind her, spying Chat Noir laying flat on his back on the couch, a hand lightly resting on his stomach.

She rolled her eyes, mildly pleased at his pain, it was some form of small payback for his earlier inappropriate teasing.

Her phone tinged with new messages, most probably from Alya, whom she sent updates to about today's events. If anyone would know what to do, it was her.

Grabbing her phone, Marinette unlocked it and opened her messages, tapping on the new ones she received.

There was only one problem.

That was not Alya's name.

It read 'Luka Couffaine', with new messages under the ones she'd supposedly sent Alya.

Marinette's heart stopped when she read the first line.

'While I myself think cuffs shouldn't be too much of a violation, don't you think comparing me to one of the most infamous prisons in Paris a little harsh, little melody?'

Thanks for reading! See you soon! :3