Days turned into weeks, and Chat Noir's list of Ladybug's odd behaviors continued to grow. She hugged him, asked for his opinions, smiled at him for no reason, complimented him, and let slip small details about herself. She stuttered, tripped, and generally acted jumpy.
And she also joined him on his solo patrols. Not that he was complaining.
He jumped to a lamppost, which flickered when he landed, the street beneath him disappearing into the night and then reappearing. "Don't you have homework?" he asked her. That was the reason for solo patrols, so they could each have time to do other things but still make their presence felt in the city.
"No." She would keep pace with him as he leapt from roof to roof, trailing behind him and letting him do all the work of checking alleyways and staying alert, but always close enough to talk and willing to help if he needed it.
"Well, don't you want to hang out with your friends or something?" He asked her these questions every time she showed up, which was so often that it was practically routine now. She always told him no.
"Why do you think I'm here?" she asked, landing next to him and giving him a playful shove. "You're my friend. I miss you when you're not around." She slid down the rest of the roof and did a backflip off the edge.
See? he told himself. We're just friends. Stop thinking like this.
Ladybug was just being friendly. She probably missed all her friends. And joked around with them. It seemed like something she would do. To her friends.
(Trying to convince himself that she gave all her friends flower crowns didn't go over so well. Jealousy rippled through his stomach whenever he thought of her hands running through other people's hair.)
"Chat! Come look at this!"
He followed her path down the roof, slipping over the edge, to find her crouching over a cardboard box in the alleyway below.
"They're so tiny," she cooed. She reached into the box and pulled out a calico kitten that squirmed and mewed but didn't open its eyes.
The other kittens were in a wriggling pile in the corner of the box, and Ladybug gently placed the calico back with its brothers and sisters and gently stroked its head between the ears.
"We should probably get them to a shelter," he said, placing his upturned hand in the bottom of the box. Another one with a mostly black face swiveled its head toward his fingers, one eye cracked open. "They're probably only a week old. It's too cold out here for them."
He inched his fingers closer and waited until the kitten reached out and licked his fingertip.
"You're so gentle with them," Ladybug whispered.
"Huh?" He looked up to see her smiling warmly.
"You're very gentle," she repeated, then shrugged. "It's nice."
He ducked his head, like he could hide the blush her words caused. The light from the street was dim there in the alley. Maybe she couldn't see it.
Their line of work was very rough-and-tumble, and his part had always been brawn-over-brains. He hadn't realized his softer side would have been important to her. His father never seemed to value it.
A few minutes later he stood in the lobby of an animal hospital, handing over a damp cardboard box to a waiting vet tech. "The box isn't very strong," he warned, holding it from the bottom and not letting go until he felt the man take the weight.
The vet on duty was chatting excitedly with Ladybug, asking if they could come back later for a photo op with the kittens and (probably) asking for her autograph. After a few minutes of small talk and a few more coos and pets for the kittens, Chat Noir found himself facing his Lady on the roof of the hospital, saying goodnight.
He wasn't sure how it happened. He thought she might have started it. Tonight, for the first time, saying goodnight included a long hug. Sure, they'd hugged before, but only when one of them had been really upset. Never just because.
Was she upset? Had he missed signs of distress from his partner?
Ladybug stepped deeper into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder, her forehead against the exposed skin of his neck. Her palms were flat against his back, gently holding him to her as he held her, too.
Chat Noir stopped wondering what was wrong when her thumb started stroking a soft, small line up and down his spine.
It had been a long, long time since someone had hugged him just because, and Chat Noir found himself swallowing down an unexpected lump in his throat. It was too perfect.
Carefully, he cradled the back of her head, imagining he could feel her hair through his gloves. "You're wonderful," he murmured. "Just thought you should know."
Ladybug pulled back, just far enough for him to see her shy smile. "Right back at you."
His response was a quick, sweet peck on her forehead. It felt like an appropriate and friendly thing to do. Just right for the moment.
It also must have been the correct thing to do.
Because when he opened his eyes, Ladybug was beaming at him.