The next time Chat Noir saw Ladybug was two days later. She had left him an urgent message that they needed to change the location of their joint patrol starting point from the Arc de Triomphe to the Hôtel Ampère. He was a cat. He was flexible. And it didn't matter where they started, really.

The hotel stuck out above the surrounding buildings, and the roof was flat with a good view. When he arrived, he found Ladybug with a pair of binoculars and a blanket.

"Very important!" she said when he landed next to her. "There have been a lot of reports of white and black butterflies seen in this area. We need to do a stakeout to find one. Then we follow it to its source."

"Okay," he said, sitting down on her left. Ladybug was stretched out on her stomach on the blanket - black with green lining, he noted. (It had to be just a coincidence, right?) There was enough room for both of them, though he thought it was more professional to sit off to the side. "It's spring. There are a lot of butterflies right now. Are we sure they're akumas?"

"Absolutely." She peered through the binoculars. It would be disorienting trying to follow something so small through lenses that big. And they were so high up that trying to see without magnification probably wouldn't work. Plus, the angle was terrible. They were in the middle of the roof. Ladybug wouldn't be able to see the ground, which meant she wasn't really trying. She was looking at the clouds above the horizon. The sun was setting behind her, and the sky in the distance was going dark. This was a terrible time for a stakeout on top of everything else.

This raised a few flags for him. Ladybug's plans were usually more methodical and better, well, planned.

"Are you going to lie down or what?" she asked. "This is a stakeout. We have to keep a low profile."

So Chat Noir laid down next to Ladybug on the blanket, and kept a respectable, gentlemanly distance, which meant that he was on the very edge while she was in the middle.

"See anything?" she asked. She handed him the binoculars, but he didn't take them.

"No."

"Hm. We might have to wait a while, then. Do you mind?" She set the binoculars down and propped herself up on her elbows. She fiddled with the green fringe of the blanket.

"I don't mind."

"I made this myself. Do you like it?"

"Oh, uh." His eyes followed her fingers as they stroked the green. Each corner was adorned with a gold tassel, like a bell. "It's very nice."

"Thanks. I love the color scheme. It works well with a lot of designs."

Chat Noir took a shaky breath under the onslaught of knowledge. Ladybug could sew. She liked to design things. She possibly designed a blanket with his color scheme on purpose. She thought about designing and used him as inspiration? She made a lot of things based on his colors? She potentially liked his costume? And by extension, she liked how his costume looked on him and she thought he was attractive?

Given the circumstances, all he could reply was, "That's neat." And given the circumstances, he was proud he was able to get out that much. Even though he knew he sounded like an idiot.

Within a few minutes, Chat Noir realized that the blanket, though beautiful and well crafted and possibly recently made with him in mind, had a few drawbacks. It was thin, and the roof was metal. It wasn't the most comfortable to rest his elbows on.

"I'm cold," Ladybug announced cheerfully. "I guess I should have picked thicker material. Oh well!"

"Do you want to find somewhere else?" he asked. "There's probably plenty of places we could go."

"No, this spot is perfect. We're too high to be seen by anyone. If it's reported anywhere, everyone will hear about it, and Hawk Moth will hear about it, and then he'll know that we're onto him. Gotta keep this an absolute secret."

And she scooted closer to him, until there was enough fabric left over that she could pull it across both of them. "This works," she said.

Chat Noir vowed he would die before he suggested they move locations again. His elbows could suffer, because Ladybug was willingly snuggling him, from their shoulders to their hips all the way down - he shifted his legs ever so slightly, until he felt hers - all the way down to their toes.

He expected her to move after a few minutes, as the warmth of the blanket and their shared body heat thawed her out, but when she didn't move, he asked, "Are you still cold?"

"A little," she admitted.

Slowly, Chat Noir shifted his weight to his left elbow and laid his right arm across her back, nestling her into his side. It was because he was a good partner who wanted to keep her warm. Not because he had a raging crush on her.

He kept his movements light and gentle and stayed very still so she wouldn't complain, but a moment later, she pushed herself more tightly against him.

"Thank you," she said. "This is much better."

She must have been colder than she'd let on because normally she wouldn't have been so liberal with what she allowed him. But, and he couldn't help but voice the question, something wasn't quite right.

"Why isn't your suit protecting you from the cold like it normally does?"

"It's helping," she replied. "But my head and neck are still exposed, aren't they? Do you know how much heat you lose that way?"

Chat Noir shook his head.

"Almost 50%."

That made sense… no, it didn't make sense. It had never worked like that before, but then again, they were usually in life-or-death battles when they were suited up. Movement was plentiful and created a lot of heat. Maybe lying completely still made a difference.

Their breaths came out in white puffs as they lay there. Ladybug started holding her breath to create bigger puffs as they waited. Her lips were very pretty. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed (and he was sure it wasn't going to be the last). They were a perfect shade of pink, and they looked smooth, and were the perfect size. Both in relation to her face but also for kissing. The perfect combination.

And… she saw him staring at her mouth.

"Uh," he fumbled. "Your nose. It's cold. Because of the cold. So yeah, it makes sense that you're cold. Because it's cold, just like your nose says. Not– not that your nose is super noticeable or anything. Even if it's bright red with cold." He put his face down against his folded arms and tried not to die. Was it really better to pretend he was staring at her nose that entire time? That's such a weird thing to stare at. He should have owned up to thinking about kissing her. At least he could have played it off as a joke and not made it super awkward.

He was grateful when the sun went down a little while later to hide the burning blush that he was sure she could see. Unfortunately, the sun took the rest of the day's warmth with it. She'd picked the coldest day of April, and it was only going to get worse.

It wasn't any surprise to him when a minute later she announced that it was too dark to continue and asked if he wanted to go home.

"I can still see. Night vision," he weakly offered. He'd only lifted his gaze once since claiming he was staring at her nose, checked that she was still smirking at him, and quickly hid again. Some stakeout partner he was. He should make it up to her. "Do you want me to stay out here a little longer?"

"I don't mind keeping you company," she said. And she turned onto her side facing him, and rested her head on her arm.

Chat Noir kept his face resolutely buried in his arms, but now his blush wasn't from embarrassment. She was stretched out lazily next to him. If she shifted to the side, even a little, he'd be touching her stomach. It didn't help when her breath brushed his ear.

He popped his head up, staring intently at the buildings in front of him, trying to focus on counting the windows, and not how close she was.

"So how was your day?" she asked, unaware of his struggles.

"Fine." His voice cracked on the word, so he tried again. "It was fine."

"Just fine? I hope hanging out with me made it better than fine."

He nodded dumbly and contemplated scooting away. Or maybe just rolling to the edge of the building and then off it. So far she still hadn't realized anything was wrong, but it wasn't going to stay that way if he stayed weirdly silent.

"It's too bad we didn't see anything today," he finally said. "Stakeout was kind of a bust."

"I don't mind," she replied. "We can always try again another day. Besides," she said. "This was a nice break from our regular patrols. Don't you think?"

He scooted away from her a little bit, so he could lie down but not be right next to her. It helped.

"Chat?"

"Yes." He mirrored her position, on his side, head pillowed on his arm. "I like this." He kept his eyes firmly trained on her face while he mentally explored their positions, how their breaths intermingled, mapping how their knees touched. They were so close he could have counted her lashes.

"STAKEOUT IS OVER." Ladybug burst out of the blanket, and cold air came rushing back to him, slapping away the warm contentment he'd been enclosed in.

"Wha–"

She moved so quickly that he only caught the edge of her blushing face. "I'll see you next time!" She fumbled at her waist for the yoyo. "Bye!"

In an instant, Chat Noir was alone and confused on a rooftop, blanket still wrapped around his legs. Okay, he definitely didn't do anything that time to set her off, right? He wasn't staring at her lips (at least right before she left), and he didn't say anything, just that he agreed with her that it was nice. Untangling himself from the blanket, he rehashed the end of their conversation, but couldn't figure it out. No, he really hadn't done anything to make her uncomfortable this time that he could tell.

(He thought. He hoped.)

So what had it been?

He rolled up the blanket and, not knowing what else to do with it, took it home.