A Delicate Balance of Flavors

Adrien Agreste: Cotton Candy Burrito

While Chat Noir would have liked to believe that he moved like a liquid shadow even in the late afternoon light, the reality, as would be obvious to to anyone watching him as he passed, was that he flopped and twisted through the air with each of his baton strokes, scampering over rooftops on all fours and missing more than a few of his intended landings while he cavorted in an eager scramble towards the Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie.

As he clambered over the the last building and dropped to his belly to shimmy towards the edge of the roof, he knew that had to be clandestine about his surveillance, and all his feline subtly and grace was used to edge his way towards the tiny lip of the roof to poke his kitty ears and green eyes out and survey the situation like a soldier observing an enemy encampment. Marinette's balcony and attic room emerged into view.

Target acquired.

Marinette stood, slumped against the railing of her balcony, and his keen eyes allowed him to worry over the vacant expression on her face as she chewed on her lower lip.

Obviously, Marinette was planning on staying in for the evening, having already changed for bed before dinner. She stood on her rooftop, clad in her perfectly adorable but dangerously tight pink sleep pants, and white, pink polka dotted tanktop, its thin black straps pressing into her slender shoulders and highlighting the curve of her throat and the smooth, pale expanse of her neck.

And now she was staring right back at him, arms folded up like a preying mantis, hands steepled in front of her face as she leaned against her balcony railing.

"Anything that I can help the great and illustrious hero of Paris with today?" she shouted over the street, causing several pedestrians to look up at what they must have assumed was a crazy person.

A little snort of laughter escaped him, contorting Chat's face like a sneeze, because that was the kind of bold attitude, much like a snarkier version of Kagami's, that made Marinette Marinette, at least when she wasn't stumbling all over herself in a blushing fluster, which, as Kagami had pointed out to him, was just as adorable and the exaggerated mannerisms kind of made her look like a clumsy anime love interest...

Flicking his baton into a staff, he set it at his feet and burst off the roof into a clean and easy flip, bridging the gap between them to land comfortably at Marinette's side, capping it off with a deep bow.

"You've got it all wrong, princess," he said, fist clenched to his heart, the thick belt-tail behind him flicking and swaying in amusement that he couldn't restrain because the darn thing had a mind of its own. "This humble knight is at your service, certainly."

Marinette did not appear impressed.

"Uh-ha," she offered noncommittally with an eye-roll so hard that it nearly looked like the whites of her eyes were going to spin right out of her head, "and to what do I owe the honor?"

"Honestly, I was just passing through and, well-" A hand pressed to the back of his head and he scratched at it absently. "You looked a little lost in thought. As a hero of Paris, I guess I just wanted to check in."

"Can't have people getting akumatized under your watch, right?" she sighed.

Had – had they actually done something that might ger her akumatized? Had they completely misjudged? How could he have-

Her weird, toothy smile and a frantic gesture with her hands set his mind at ease, and let him relax his grip on the baton that he realized he was nearly on the verge of snapping in his hands.

"No- no. I'm just joking, Chat! Nothing's really wrong," she assured in a slight rush, likely seeing his slack-jawed expression.

"Don't scare me like that, princess," Chat groused.