Lost in your Arms

Tell Them That It's Human Nature

Marinette was laying across her couch, tongue stuck out with a pencil in her hand and ear. It was late but she couldn't stop until she finished.

"As soon as I submit this I'll send it in and be done for the night, I promise." Marinette assured Alya who whined from the phone.

She hung out a few moments later, after her inspiration faded away and she was left staring at an abandoned sketch. The shading was all wrong and had no emotion to it.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Marinette jumped upon realizing it was Chat Noir. He was perched upon her railing with a grin that was nearly as bright as his eyes in the night.

"Watcha doin?" he asked curiously, her sigh unavoidable as she opened the window.

"I am working on pieces for an art school I didn't have time to get in earlier." she let him come inside.

He crawled along her couch and moved practically like a cat itself. Marinette covered her snort with a cough as he settled in and grabbed her sketchpad.

He was laying on his back and held it above his face. "This is very interesting." he commented.

"What is?"

"The fact that you drew me all wrong." he turned it to see if it made a difference.

She scoffed. "That's not supposed to be you."

"It's not? I just thought because I'm so inspiring that—"

"Well someone thinks mighty high of himself, doesn't he?" Marinette took back the sketchbook and picked up her pencil.

"Ladybug seems to think so," Chat Noir groaned as he rolled onto his stomach. "Damn I'm so exhausted."

"Then why don't you go home and rest so I can get back to work?" she began erasing.

"Becaaauusssseee," he droned on and on. "It's dark and cold and not really my home anymore."

"What do you mean?"

Chat Noir cringed, noticing that he was revealing himself little by little to the woman.

"Uh, you know. Busy working out and keeping Paris safe, stuff like that."

Marinette shook her head, occasionally looking up at Chat Noir. He squinted to try and see what she was doing.

"Da-Ha! You are drawing me!"

"Hush." she told him to stop moving. "Be a good cat and lay around doing nothing."

"Woah-k." he gradually began purring, just as if he were an actual cat, from how comfortable he was.

"Are you..are you purring?" she stopped sketching.

He froze. "No."

"That didn't sound very believable." she teased.

"I don't know what you heard but whatever it was, it was not purring. You should really get a check-up from a doctor about that." he suggested.

"Yes and if they ask me what's wrong I'll just say, 'Yes, there's a cat in my apartment that won't stop purring'."

"Alright, alright." he held his hands up in defense. "I guess you could say I have cat-like tendencies."

"I read about that somewhere..in my best friend Alya's blog I think." she grinned. "So if you're a cat does that mean that you like balls of yarn? Or lasers?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"No."

She stood up from the couch and speed-walked away to another room, giggling along the way, while Chat Noir whined.

She poked her head through the doorframe and held up a yarn ball.

"Don't. You. Dare." he warned.

"Oh, I dare." she through the ball at him, making his claws itch to touch it. To chase it.

He gave in. It was only mere seconds after it was launched but it felt like eternity. He was slowly unwinding the ball of yarn, toying it and tossing it in the air and catching it over and over.

Marinette burst out into laughter. "Wow, never thought I'd see one of Paris' mightiest heroes be defeated by a ball of yarn."

He scanned the room for the time, cringing. "This has been fun, Princess, but I'm afraid I have to leave."

"Hero stuff?" Marinette knew she had to leave for patrol as well.

"Unfortunately."

"You don't want to keep Paris waiting." she gestured to the way he came in.

He grabbed her hand, placed a kiss, and bowed before he was off. "Goodnight, Princess."
—
Half an hour later, swinging off the Eiffel Tower, Chat Noir began regretting his choice of words. "Why did I have to call her Princess? It's so simply just to say anything but Princess."

"Who's this Princess now?" Ladybug scared her partner to the point where he let out a tiny scream.

"Ah—a civilian."

"Is she a special someone?"

"What? No. M'Lady, she is but a friend whom I've grown closer to that's all."

She smiled for a flicker of a second before resuming her natural, cold facade. "Let's start patrol, shouldn't we Kitty?"

He stood up, stretched his cramping legs before pulling out his baton. "Ready when you are, M'Lady."

As Chat Noir joined Ladybug in roaming around the city, the air in his lungs and adrenaline coursing through his veins, he remembered how much he loved being a hero.

The feeling was so rewarding, just to get out of his apartment or the hospital. The feeling of being free.

Suddenly, Ladybug stopped. She held up a fist to stop him, to which he readied his weapon.

There was a crash. Then the bustling sound of people and voices. They spoke in lowered voices, but his ears picked up on the sound instantly.

Ladybug glanced back at him, nodding once to signal their attack.

They lunged through the window, shattering the other window clean. The glass shards reflected bits of moonlight as the two heroes found themselves in the midst of a robbery.

Ladybug went for the two on the left, Chat Noir on the right. The man he was facing was burly and tough, his sneer and violent demeanor overpowering.

He brought a pipe with him for a weapon of choice, clashing with Chat Noir's baton. He gritted his teeth against the man, side-stepping to avoid contact.

Ladybug twirled her yo-yo violently to knock the men onto their feet, then roughly kicking one in the crotch and the other a elbow squarely in the jaw.

Chat Noir got one or two hits on the burglar before he struck him roughly in the ribs. He was temporarily out of breath, his side aching as he struck once more.

The man stumbled back, Chat Noir finding this brief second to trip him up while Ladybug tied the three up with her yo-yo.

As she kept guard, Chat dumped the bags of cash on the ground. A mixture of both euros and diamond jewelry. Precious, precious gemstone trickled out.

He contacted the police via-baton while one gem struck him still. It was a breathtakingly blue color, reminding him of Marinette's eyes. A sapphire that glimmered as the moon caught its edges.

Shaking his head to snap out of the daze, he heard the police sirens and came back to reality.

He would go home, ice his ribs, finish some paperwork for work, and in the morning try to finalize his divorce. He wanted it to be as quick as possible.

It also helped that he was a celebrity in Paris, although he didn't really prefer to use that excuse. He wanted to erase that model, playboy look as soon as he could.

The police pounded in, handcuffing the men. They thanked Ladybug and Chat Noir for their service, the scarlet heroine already out the shattered window and into the night once more.

They didn't even get to fist bump their victory.