"Did you bring them? Please tell me you brought them."
"That depends, mon minou." Ladybug sauntered over to her partner, leaned in close, and flicked the bell at his throat. "What have you got for me?"
Chat Noir bounced on his toes excitedly, and bent to scoop up a bag of coffee from where he left it on the low ledge. "You are going to love this one! It's a dark roast Arabica out of Ethiopia, and it's so strong that even my dad won't drink it."
"Yeah?" She took the proffered bag and held it to the light, examining the label. "Whole bean, right?"
Chat Noir gasped in indignation. "Would I dare to bring you anything else, my lady?"
"No, you wouldn't." She grinned, and stood on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "I can't wait to try it! Do you have more at home?"
"Yeah, we've got a whole case of it! Dad wanted it thrown out, but I saved it for you." He studied his claws nonchalantly, and she giggled.
"You're the best, chaton!"
"I am. I really am." He stepped closer and leaned down to put his head on her shoulder, and gazed up at her through his lashes. "Don't good little chatons deserve treats?"
"They do," she replied, laughing. "They really do." She slipped away from him and moved around the corner of a chimney stack, and came back into sight with a large bakery box in her hands. "What do you think, Chat? Will these help you scratch your itch?"
"Oh my god, Bug. Are those…?"
"The Mort Par Chocolat macaron assortment from the best bakery in Paris." She opened the lid with a flourish, and grinned at the naked longing on his face as his fingers hovered over the different varities.
"Peanut butter and dark chocolate ganache. Milk chocolate and hazelnut. White chocolate and marzipan. And, merde, Ladybug, dark chocolate with raspberry coulis? Are you trying to kill me?"
Ladybug laughed, and tugged the box away from him. "You have to promise me, Chat, that you will not eat all of these at once, like you did last time."
"Don't ask me to make promises that I can't keep," he replied, pouting.
"I will not let you make yourself sick! And I don't want you getting in trouble again, you junkie. Promise me, and they're yours."
He glared petulantly. "If you take back your cookies, I'm taking back my coffee."
She giggled. "No you won't. But even if you did, I'd rather put up with the caffeine withdrawal headache than let you make yourself sick."
"Ugh, fine." He nudged her shoulder with his arm, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. "I promise."
She passed the box to him, and he excitedly dug into it, agonizing over which one to eat first. "We're quite the pair, aren't we? The chocoholic cat and the caffeine-addicted bug."
He made his selection and stuffed the entire macaron into his mouth at once, then sighed blissfully. She shook her head, but knew she had no room to criticize. She really needed to cut back on the coffee…