Feline-ious

by

Jeremy Harper

Disclaimer – Miraculous is the property of ZagToon. Catwoman is the property of DC Comics. Both are used without permision.

Chapter 5

Selina crouched behind a chimney a kilometer away from the jewelry store, observing the two young Heroes of Paris talking on its roof through a pair of night-vision binoculars. Their conversation was hushed yet intense; Selina noted weariness creeping into their expressions and growing tension in their bodies. The time was closing in on midnight and this second night of late hours was taking a toll on the juvenile pair. It's probably way past their beddy-bye time, she thought.

Selina lowered her binoculars and smiled. Her opponents had changed tactics tonight, patrolling the area with what stealth they could muster. Ladybug had been surprisingly difficult to track, considering her bright scarlet costume, and Cat Noir was even harder. Selina had been forced to shift her position a couple of times for caution's sake. The young pair was talented and she found them quite admirable. But in the end they were still rookies, barely half a year into their careers, and in a game of cat-and-mouse she completely outmatched them.

Selina looked through her binoculars again. Cat Noir seemed to be pressing a point. Ladybug was shaking her head in disagreement, but not very vigorously.

They're tiring out, she thought, smile growing slightly. They're not used to operating this late, and they probably have responsibilities as civilians tomorrow and don't know any of the tricks you need if you're going to work as a superhero at night, like sleep meditation. She stowed the binoculars in her satchel, comfortable with watching the two with her naked eyes for right now. I give them another half-hour – hour tops – before they call it. Then in and out for me and the Dreaming Tiger's Eyes are all mine. Selina purred softly in contentment. You've been fun to play with, cuties, and you tried your best, but I never had any doubt about how this was going to end.

A sudden shiver coursed down her spine, her awareness warning her of potential danger. She spun around, putting her back to the chimney as she reached for her bolas and bullwhip, and hissed in fury at the sight of Thomas Blake arrayed in his Catman costume landing on her roof.

"Heya, Kyle," he said with a wide, infuriating grin and a mocking salute.

Of course he showed up! Dammit all! She was furious with herself for having underestimated Blake, thinking he would not have been able to figure out her target or even find her. But while he was definitely going to seed, if the slight bulge around his midsection was any indication, he had not yet lost all his competency. Despite her contemptuous words earlier today, Catman had been a skilled accomplice and was still a formidable man.

"What the hell, Blake," she growled, her hand clenched white-knuckled on her whip's hilt. If Ladybug and Cat Noir had not been nearby she would have attacked him. "I told you this is mine alone."

"Yeah, and I ignored you," he answered with a dismissive wave, strutting toward her. "You broads never know what you really mean anyway, so I decided to swing by and give you a hand." She nearly attacked him then and there, the nearby superheroes be damned. "So what are we waiting for?"

"Get down!" Selina snarled, grabbing him and yanking him under cover. She looked toward the jewelry store in concern and thanked what luck she had left that the young heroes had not noticed Blake's arrival.

"Are those the local superheroes?" said Blake. "Whatchacallum – Bug Girl and Cat Lad?"

"Ladybug and Cat Noir," she corrected through clenched teeth. "I was waiting for them to leave for the night before you stumbled your fat ass in here."

He magnanimously ignored her comment. "They're kids," he scoffed. "Don't tell me you've gotten so soft you're afraid of tangling with a pair of kids."

Selina smiled cruelly. "Nightwing's just a kid, and last time you met him he dislocated your arm."

Blake frowned sharply, eyes growing hard. "The punk got lucky," he muttered. "Besides, he's Batman's student. Those two aren't. And on top of that they're French kids. Bet if I wave a popgun at them they'll run home crying for mommy."

"Oh my God," Selina groaned in disgust. "Do you listen to any of the shit that comes out of your mouth? And do you even bother with research anymore? These two are dangerous – they've taken down some serious threats that maniac Hawk Moth has thrown at them in the few months they've been active. You need to take them seriously, Catman."

"Awww, poor Selina," crooned Blake mockingly. "Put all out of sorts at the thought of dealing with rookies. Don't worry your pretty little head, Catwoman – I'll take care of these big, bad kiddies for you." With that he ducked out from behind the chimney and sprinted toward the jewelry store.

"Oh, you goddamn asshole!" Selina growled before taking off after him.


Marinette's eyes widened as she looked over Cat Noir's shoulder.

"What is that?" she exclaimed. Cat Noir turned around and gawked at the sight of the man barreling across the rooftops toward them. The man made a prodigious leap across the alley separating the jewelry store from its nearest neighbor, landing with a soft grunt and straightening up, breathing slightly labored. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a fairly lean waist, though his stomach bulged slightly against the dark gold bodysuit he wore. A dark brown cowl with what appeared to be peaked cat ears on its sides concealed his face, matched with a long, dark brown cape draped over his shoulders. His gloves and boots were brown, as was the utility belt cinched around his waist. Three jagged, vertical red lines adorned the chest of his uniform.

"Hey kids," this strange man said cheerily, speaking French with a heavy American accent. "Your parents know you're out so late?"

The two young heroes goggled at him for a moment before Marinette said, "Who are you?" Before the man could answer Catwoman appeared, landing nimbly on the roof, her face flushed angrily, her green eyes blazing with rage.

"Catman! I told you-"

"I know. I'm not listening," he cut her off lazily.

"Catman?" Marinette said incredulously.

"Y'know, I never thought I'd say something like this, but I'm starting to believe Paris has too many cats, m'lady," Cat Noir murmured.

Catwoman turned to them. "Ladybug, Cat Noir, I did not call him into this. I have nothing to do with this idiot."

"Fine way to talk about your partner, Catwoman," said Catman.

"We were partners for only three months, and that was years ago," she growled.

"Yeah, well, ending our partnership was a mistake on your part, and I'll prove it to you by taking care of your pest and stray problem." He stepped to Catwoman with a wide, toothy grin, smug and patronizing, and took hold of her right hand with his own. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it." He raised her hand to drop a kiss on her knuckles; with a sharp twist she yanked it free and threw a slap at Catman, who barely managed to duck it. He retreated a few steps, grin now a scowl. "Rwoar," he muttered.

Marinette stared at the two adult supervillains. In her first two encounters with Catwoman the older woman's poise seemed invulnerable, to the point where subconsciously Marinette thought nothing could possibly fluster her. Seeing Catwoman so angry, close to a towering fury, was shocking, and actually disturbed her slightly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cat Noir was similarly effected, perhaps more so. Her partner went stiff, his bright green eyes opening wide and his face paling significantly. He quickly shook himself out of his stupor when Catman approached them, and Marinette focused herself on the man.

"Okay, kids," said Catman, the arrogance in his tone making Marinette bristle. "I'm sure you've had a whole lot of fun, staying up so late, but it's time for you to run home. We adults here have some work to do and don't want you underfoot."

"Really?" said Marinette. "And if we don't want to go home?"

Catman shrugged and grinned. "Then I guess I'll have to send you to bed with a spanking."

"Are you for real?" Cat Noir muttered.

"Very much so. You're in the Big Leagues now, Cat Lad. I'm not one of those freak rejects that look like they got dressed by a stoned Crazy Quilt you deal with. I give the Bat and his son fits. And you two are most definitely not Batman and Nightwing." Catman's hand flicked down and out; something blurred and hummed through the air and Cat Noir let out a yelp of pain, jerking his head to one side. Blood dripped down his cheek.

"Cat Noir!" Marinette cried out. She wanted to reach out to her partner, but a sudden premonition flashed in her mind and she dropped into a wide-legged three point stance, just in time to avoid being struck in the back of the head by Catman's returning weapon. He reached up and caught it with ease; it was a small, black metal boomerang, one sharp tip stained scarlet.

"I think I've proved my point," drawled Catman. "Now be good little kiddies and run off."

Marinette slowly straightened up. Cat Noir had put his hand to his cheek and now dropped it to one side, blood on his palm. Catwoman's face had gone bone-white with fury and her hand was on her bullwhip. Then with a shiver she settled her anger, relaxing slightly. She looked at the two young heroes, her gaze oddly apologetic and somehow encouraging. With a nod she took a few steps back, as if to get out of the way.

Marinette and Cat Noir exchanged a quick glance before returning their attention to Catman, who watched them with his smug, infuriating smile.

"You're right," murmured Cat Noir, tone deceptively mild. "We're not Batman and Nightwing."

"We're Ladybug and Cat Noir," Marinette said with equally dangerous softness.

In his arrogance Catman underestimated his opponents, and paid a high price for his folly. He jumped away with a startled yelp as he barely avoided having his nose broken by Ladybug's slung yoyo. Her speed had taken him off-guard, and left him unprepared for Cat Noir coming in low, a black streak across the concrete, and striking his shins with his baton. The super villain managed to roll with the blow, cushioning his fall with his forearms and somersaulting forward to his feet, just in time to take Ladybug's jump kick square in the chest.

Catman reeled backwards, waving his arms wildly in an attempt to keep his balance. Cat Noir hit him again with his baton, this time in the back of the knees. The young hero levered the baton upwards, sending Catman hurtling in the air heels over head, going over the edge of the roof and falling into the alleyway. He screamed in fear and shock, desperately reaching for the grapnel on his utility belt when something wrapped around his right leg and arrested his fall with a painful jerk. Ladybug's yoyo had saved him. He looked up and saw the two heroes at the roof's edge, staring coolly down at him.

Catman growled, drawing one of his Catarangs and slashing at the yoyo string. It bounced off as if it struck an elastic cord. Ladybug jerked the string, surprising him into dropping the Catarang.

"Let me go!" he snarled. "You damn brats, let me go!"

"But of course," said Ladybug. "Bon voyage, Monsieur Catman." She swung him to her left, just over an open dumpster, and shook her yoyo, making it unwrap and return to her hand. Catman fell with an outraged cry, landing inside the dumpster with a loud, painful crash. Cat Noir extended his baton and knocked the dumpster's lid closed, slamming it once to make certain it shut tight. He retracted it to its normal size and as one he and Ladybug turned to Catwoman, leveling their gazes at her like gun turrets. She quickly raised her hands.

"Alright," she said. "I'll knock it off. I won't bother this place again – you have my word on it." She lowered her hands with a sigh, shaking her head. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that you had to deal with Catman." She turned and leaped off the roof, lashing out with her bullwhip and swinging off into the night.

The two young heroes watched her depart. "Did... did we just win?" asked Cat Noir.

"I... think so?" Marinette answered hesitantly. "Maybe? I'm not certain..."

Cat Noir glanced at her curiously. "What's wrong?"

She looked down at the roof, brow furrowed and lips pursed. "I think," she said slowly. "I think we've been going about this the wrong way... or at least we haven't asked the right questions. We... I've been so concerned about simply stopping Catwoman that I haven't given any thought about exactly what she wants." She looked at Cat Noir. "Why did she come all the way from Gotham City just to break into this particular jewelry store?"

Cat Noir turned the question over. "I see. And you think just because she said she'd stop trying to steal from the store doesn't mean she'll stop trying to steal what she wants from it."

Marinette nodded in agreement then vented a sigh. "I think I need to have another talk with the store manager." Cat Noir nodded, too, then hissed, bringing a hand up to his cut cheek.

"Cat!" said Marinette. "Is it that bad? It must be – you've bled on your shoulder." Her partner grimaced and glanced at his bloody hand.

"It just stings a little, Bugaboo. It's better than it looks, don't worry about it." But despite his words he looked concerned, with his face pale and his green eyes roving slightly, settling anywhere but on her.

"Even so, there's no reason why I shouldn't take care of it. Hold still a moment." She placed her hand next to Cat Noir's face. "Miraculous Ladybug," she whispered. Magical ladybugs enveloped her hand with a gentle, soothing buzz. She ghosted it along Cat Noir's face and shoulder; both cut and spilled blood vanished as if never existing. Marinette dismissed the healing swarm with a shake of her hand.

"Thanks, m'lady," Cat Noir said with a smile, but Marinette felt concerned. The smile did not reach his eyes.

"Are you alright? You're acting funny." She frowned thoughtfully. "Something about that Catman bothered you. Want to talk about it?"

"I... It's nothing. Really, m'lady. Besides, it's late and you're going to time out in five minutes. We should get going." He turned to leave but she caught his hand.

"I can spare a couple of minutes. Please, Cat Noir. If something's wrong I want to know."

He did not answer for a moment. He stared down at the roof, seeming almost ashamed, his cat ears drooping and shoulders slumped. Finally he looked at her, his expression unhappy.

"I'm not like him, am I?" he asked softly.

"Who? You mean Catman?"

"Yeah. I... The way he acted toward Catwoman, the things he said and how he tried to kiss her hand, and the way she responded... Do... do I make feel you like that? Angry and uncomfortable?"

"Oh Kitty!" Marinette said in dismay. She squeezed his hand. "No! Not at all. I'll... I'll admit that I do wish you wouldn't let yourself get... distracted the way you sometimes do during a fight. But I know you respect me. You've never been less than kind and friendly, and besides you would never be that condescending or misogynistic to anyone, much less me. It's an honor and a pleasure being your partner. I couldn't do this without you. I wouldn't even be Ladybug without you. You're my dear friend, Cat Noir, You're nothing like Catman." Her lips formed a little moue of distaste. "I have the distinct feeling that he respects no one but himself."

Cat Noir gazed at her gratefully. Marinette smiled back and on a whim lifted their joined hands toward his face. He blinked then with a grin brushed his lips across her knuckles and gave her hand a squeeze before letting it go.

"Thank you, m'lady," he said. "Let's meet up tomorrow so we can decide on what to do in case Catwoman is still planning something."

"Of course." Marinette smiled as she raised her fist. "Pound it."

Cat Noir smiled back and bumped his fist to hers. "Pound it."


Thomas Blake spent almost an hour in the shower – fitting, considering it had taken almost an hour to get out of that stinking dumpster. He scalded himself beneath the hot water, scrubbing away with the cheap soap the second-rate hotel he was ensconced in provided until he rid himself of the stench of garbage, then spent another hour rinsing out his lion-skin cape in the bathroom sink until it was thoroughly clean. The rest of his costume he left for later – he had a spare with him, but he would eventually have to see to it. Combat worthy suits were expensive, and he did not have the funds to replace it.

He sat on his bed in his leopard-patterned briefs, guzzling down a bottle of beer before hunching down in a sulk, cape clutched in his hands.

Damn it, he thought, grinding his teeth, eyes screwed shut as he seethed with caustic rage. I don't deserve this. Goddamn it. I'm stuck in this rat trap, drinking beer that might as well be piss, scrambling after others' scraps while that ungrateful bitch lives the high life. Doesn't she understand what she owes me? Selina wouldn't be what she is now if she hadn't partnered with me. And those damn kids! I'll cut them to ribbons if I ever run into them again. A growl rumbled in his throat. I deserve better than this. I deserve more!

Blake was so caught up in his miserable resentment that he did not notice the strange, purple butterfly slip throw the window of his room and flutter erratically toward him. He was aware of nothing other than his storm of envious, bitter thoughts until the butterfly landed on his cape, merging with it in a burble. He lifted his head, a purple, butterfly-shaped outline framing his flushed face.

Poor Thomas Blake, a voice crooned in his head. Treated so shoddily by his inferiors. Denied by the unworthy of what is his rightful due. I can help you rectify this injustice. I am Hawk Moth. I can grant you the power that will let you get revenge and gain the glory and respect the world owes you. In return I ask you for but one thing – bring me Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous.


For a surprisingly long time Hawk Moth received no answer. In his sanctum his shifted slightly, frowning impatiently. Never before had anyone paused so long before giving his offer an answer. Upon first making empathic contact with this Thomas Blake, Hawk Moth had felt the familiar roiling mass of dark emotions he could exploit to further his campaign against Ladybug and Cat Noir. But as moments stretched Hawk Moth began to realize that this man was far more than he seemed. Those initial turbulent thoughts were but a scrim; concealed beneath them was a deep, vast well of will, intelligence and ambition.

Hawk Moth, Blake finally responded. You've got yourself a deal.


Thomas Blake rose up and draped his cape on his shoulders. Purple-black energy coruscated over his body, transforming him into something that was somehow both more than yet less than human.

Thomas Blake ceased to be. In his place stood Chat Roi.


Author's Notes: I'm a little surprised I've returned to this after around a two year absence – partly because I just haven't felt like writing very much but mostly because I'm absolutely disgusted with a big section of the Miraculous fandom right now, as it is reflected by the story tags I've been seeing for a long time now. The flood of Batcrap choking AO3, the salt directed an emotionally abused young man, the vitriol thrown at Alya (and you can't tell me there isn't a racial animus in that, especially when you have stories where the skinny blonde white girl who made Marinette's life a living hell since she was ten suddenly becomes her best friend while the curvy black girl who has been nothing but affectionate and supportive is transformed into a shrieking harpy), the inability to get over one episode that seems to make some people lose all their comprehension skills. There are days where I think this makes the Ranma ½ fiancée I experienced some fifteen years ago (damn, I'm getting old) seem like a teddy bear's picnic. If Voltron fandom went through even half of this shit then I understand why so many people who loved that show gave up on it. I almost gave up on Miraculous, and I may still do so.

However, two things have happened that led to the writing of this new chapter of Feline-ious after such a long hiatus. One, I received a nice comment from Talik Sanis. Frankly, that encouraged and inspired me, especially since it was on the AO3 version of the story, and my work has never attracted much notice on that site. Never underestimate the power a comment can have on a writer. I need to keep that in mind myself.

Two, I'm finally getting some help on issues that have plagued me since my childhood. I was very sick recently, and over the course of my intake it was determined I was mentally ill in addition to suffering from diabetic complications. I won't go into details, but I'm taking steps to try to heal myself, and these efforts seem to have re-kindled my creative spark. That's all I have to say about that.

Hopefully I'll be able to finish Feline-ious in the near future, and maybe produce a few sequels as well. Time will tell, and I don't want to get ahead of myself.

I want to thank the wondrous Pursemonger for pre-reading this story. I hope I'll be able to return to the Ranma ½ portion of this universe for you soon. And thanks again to Talik Sanis for taking the time to say nice things about this story. This chapter probably would never have been written if not for you.

Sorry about the long note. Take care of yourselves, and thanks for your time and tolerance.