I stop and see Mr. Ramier sitting by on a park bench. His beloved pigeons are eating the birdseed scattered around, but he isn't smiling like he usual is.

Slipping to the other side of the wall, I talk to Plagg, my Kwami. "He looks so sad, Plagg. Do you think he should help him?" I ask. "Well, it would be the 73rd time he got a akumatized and I'm pretty sure your lady wouldn't be happy about it," he says. I didn't even think of that. "No, and I know she needs to take the day off for..er…." Plagg cocks his head at me. "Adrien, she doesn't care how much you zoom around Paris as long as your in time for supper and that you don't do it in the apartment," Plagg says, folding his arms across his chest. I scratch the back of my neck. "Do you have to remind me?" I groan. I got excited and started zooming around our small apartment, and I made a bit of a mess. Okay, a big mess. And M'lady would be steamed if she can't get her cleaning done.

I peek around the corner at Mr. Ramier. His favorite pigeon, Edgar sits on his shoulder. "Plagg, Claws Out!" I whisper. "Is there a problem, Mr. Raimer?" I ask, walking over to him. He looks up, and gives me a sad smile. "Oh, hello Cat Noir. Edgar usually does his special song in the mornings but today he hasn't even cooed. I don't know what's wrong with him," he sighs, stroking the birds soft feathers.

I sneeze. "Sorry, allergic to feathers," I say. Mr. Raimer looks around. "Say, where's your beautiful Ladybug? You usually seem to be together," he says. "Um, she taking care of some things at home," I explain. I look at Edgar ruffling his wings. Ugh. In my happiness last night, I completely destroyed a pillow after kneading it. Could Edgar loan me a few feathers?

"Cat? What are you thinking about? Not about piegon pie, I hope." I must be thinking about the feathers again. "No, no. I may have a idea though."

Pigeon pie? Plagg would rather eat cheddar, but it would make M'lady happy to not have to deal with Mr. Pigeon again. I press my lips together, trying not to laugh. A loud purr comes out instead. It would make this Cat happy too.

Mr. Ramier carefully hands me Edgar who sits quietly on my shoulder. I'm supposed to help him sing, but he's cat food if he poops on my shoulder. "You know, Edgar, Cat's sing too," I say. Edgar seems to be watching me.

I love Alya, one of Mari's best friends, but I hope she isn't around for what I'm about to do next. I clear my throat. I start meowing the song "Dynamite" and Edgar watches me like I'm crazy. "Maybe we should start with a warm-up," I say. Edgar settles down on shoulder, and then I feel something warm and squishy. Just pretend its Camembert, just pretend its Camembert, I chant to myself. The really runny kind.

"Edgar! I'm so sorry, Cat Noir!" "Hey, meow problem!" I grin. Heh, heh. Got a get a pun in there somewhere. "Let's start with a warm-up," I say. I start with a low purr, then a medium and then high purr. Gradually, Edgar starts softly cooing. He isn't singing yet, but its a start. That, or he just wants this weird cat outta here.

Soon, we are harmonizes together, then Edgar starts to sing at last. I never thought I'd hear a pigeon sing Katy Perry, but weirder stuff has happen. I mean, I love Mari's father, but that man can't sing. He's so pawesome.

"Thank you, thank you so much, Cat Noir!" Mr. Raimer says, as Edgar flutters back to him. "Hey, Edgar, what to hear a joke?" I ask. Edgar bobs his head. "What singer do cats like the most?" Edgar spreads his wings out like he's asking who. "Katy Purry!"

The response I get is a questionable coo. Okay, maybe he only likes bird jokes? Or is so happy about singing again he's soaring to new heights?

Mr. Raimer pulls several coins from his pocket. "Here you go, Cat. Treat Ladybug to a refreshing ice cream," he says.

I wave and walk into a small alleyway. "Claws in," I whisper. Plagg comes swirling out of the ring. "You really need to work on your jokes, Adrien," Plagg says. I pull out a piece of Camembert. "Is that cheese?" he perks up. "Fuel up. And my jokes are purr-fect," I grin, as Plagg goes to hide in my shirt.

When I get to Ladybug's, she looking at a recipe book. "I don't know what I'm going to feed you tonight, Kitty. Turns out this place really did need a good cleaning, even after last night."

"Well, would you like to start with some ice cream, M'lady?" I ask. I show her the money Mr. Raimer gave me. "How did you earn that?" she asks. "Oh, I'll tell you on the way."

I fill her in, and she laughs heartily. Its good to hear her laugh. Suddenly, she pulls me into another alleyway. "I don't think the ice cream carts come back here, M'lady." "I know," she grins. Suddenly, she's in my arms. "Thank you," she says, a contented smile on her face. I look down at her, puzzled.

"Um, I know you love me, Bugaboo, but I'm probably not your favorite kitty that the moment." "Well, you do owe me a new pillow," she grins. "Do you want me to ask Edgar if you can spare a few?"

Ladybug groans. I wrap my arms around her gently. "I try to be a good kitty," I tell her. She gives her classic "tell-me-another-one-fur ball" look.

But then her lips are against mine, and I feel as if all is forgiven. "Meow," I say. "I should be naughty more enough," I grin.

"Yeah, but then you'd owe me more ice cream," and we laugh. Then we walk hand and hand together as one. "Let's go find some ice cream, Kitty," she says. "yes, I'm sure its tastier then pigeon pie!"