Day 14: Age-Up Chat. Chat Noir takes a hit for Marinette, with surprising results.

It was hard not to get carried away with this one. ;)

For Maerynn, who is yet another awesomely talented member of this community. If you haven't already, go read her stuff!

"What do you want?" Marinette asked, inching her way along the wall, wary step by wary step, leading him away from the crowd outside the theater. She kept her eyes on the akuma who'd called himself simply Dorian, as her mind ran in circles. She desperately needed to get away to transform, but as long as she kept his attention on her, he wasn't hurting anyone else.

"Oh, my, you are lovely," Dorian cooed appreciatively, ignoring her question as he slowly stalked after her.

"But I'm not, not really."

"False humility," he scoffed, his fists clenching angrily. "Look at you, the very picture of youth and beauty, and you spout false humility. You're just like that sniveling upstart who thinks he's good enough for my role."

"What are you talking about? What do you want with me?"

"With you? Nothing," Dorian sneered, raising the mirror clutched in his hand. "But from you? I will take your youth, you lovely little liar. You don't deserve it!"

"Marinette!" A familiar pair of arms wrapped her in an equally familiar embrace, and lifted her just as a bright flash of light lit the alley. He flinched, but his hold on her didn't waver. He simply extended his staff to launch them into the air, and vaulted away from the akuma.

"Chat? Are you okay? Were you hit?"

"I'm fine." He landed briefly on a rooftop, and shifted her to his back. "Just hold on to me, so I can get you somewhere safe."

Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, and held on as he made his way towards her balcony. She considered trying to convince him to put her down closer to the site of the attack, but knew from past experience that it was pointless. He would take her home, where he thought she'd be safe, he'd say something about Ladybug taking care of things until he got back, and then he'd leave her to return to the fight. He couldn't know that he was actually carrying Ladybug away from the fight, and he never seemed to notice that she would always arrive after he did in those instances.

He landed lightly on her balcony, and Marinette released him to slide from his back. Except that the ground was farther away than it should have been, and she stumbled in surprise.

"Whoa there, you alright?" He steadied her with a hand on her waist, and bent to look at her face worriedly.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," she replied, looking up to meet his eyes. "I just—Chat?" It was dark, so it was kind of hard to see, but he definitely looked different.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Come here, I need to see you." She took his hand and tugged him after her, toward the trap door into her room.

"Marinette, is this really the time…?"

"Yes!" She climbed down into her room, and he followed reluctantly. "You took that hit for me, didn't you? I thought we got away in time, but I think he did something to you."

She flipped on her light and turned to look at him, fearing the worst, and stared.

What she saw was not the worst. He hadn't been disfigured in any way, and he hadn't been entirely robbed of his youth—both of which had been distinct possibilities, considering what that irate actor had been going on about. But he had been aged.

Delightfully, deliciously aged.

He still had the same wild green eyes, the same riotous hair, the same beautiful mouth. But he'd gotten noticeably taller, his shoulders noticeably wider, and he'd gained significantly in muscle mass. Almost in a daze, Marinette stepped closer to trail trembling fingers from a cheekbone that was more pronounced, to a hard jaw that was covered in golden stubble.

"Marinette?" He whispered uncertainly. "What's wrong?"

She blinked, and looked up into his eyes, surprised again by his unfamiliar height. She licked her lips, and her hand fell. "You're…older, I think."

"Yeah?" He caught her small hand in his now much larger one. His eyes had dipped to her mouth at the movement of her tongue, and the slit pupils dilated. He stepped closer still, forcing her to look even farther up to maintain eye contact, and smirked. "Do I age well?"

She laughed breathlessly, blushing. "Do you really have to ask?"

"I guess not," he murmured. "But I wanted your answer anyway."

"You're—God, you're beautiful, Chat. If this is what you're going to grow into…"

He leaned in toward her, and Marinette felt her eyes begin to slide closed—until a particularly forceful thump from the small purse at her hip recalled her to herself.

Tikki.

Super hero.

The akuma!

She jumped back, pulling her fingers from his grasp. "I-I shouldn't keep you. The akuma—"

His eyes widened almost comically, and she knew that he'd forgotten, too. "Merde, I have to go. Stay here, where you'll be safe." He turned and put one foot on the ladder to her loft bed, paused for a moment, and then turned back to take her face in his hands and press a quick, hot kiss to her mouth. "Later, Princess." Then he was up the ladder and out the door, while she still stood rooted to the floor in her bedroom, staring after him until a red blur flew in front of her face.

"Mar-in-ette! We have to go!"

She shook herself, and focused on the anxious kwami, determined to put freaking out on hold until after the akuma had been dealt with. Except...

"Tikki, why the hell didn't I take a picture?!"

Happy Mother's Day, everyone! 3