"Oh Death, oh Death, consider my age, please don't take me at this stage..." The young woman sang beautifully, her voice loud despite the night around her. "Oh-oh Death, won't you spare me over til another year?" She strolled along the path, fearless as she faced the moonlit forest with a yo-yo bouncing in her hand. An act this courageous (or, more accurately, foolish, in his opinion) deserved a reply.

"Oh I am Death, and none can tell if I open the door to Heaven or Hell. No wealth, no land, no silver nor gold; nothing satisfies me but your soul." The woman tensed when he began, stopping to look for the source of the new voice.

"Who's there?" she called, squinting into the trees.

"My name is Chat Noir," he said as he slunk out of the bushes, hand to his chest. He flung the other out as he bowed to her. "Just your average cat burglar." He flashed a smile, then a knife from his outstretched hand. "I'm going to need your wallet now."

"This is a mugging. You're mugging me. In no way is this a cat burglary."

"Unbelievable. I've got a knife! I'll stab you."

"Not if you don't get the chance." She gripped her yo-yo tight and drew her arm back. Before he could react, it was flung at his head, hitting him directly between the eyes. He jumped back, cursing as he felt his forehead for the bump he expected. His other hand exploded in pain as the woman kicked his knife out of it, and he scrambled back into the trees, disappearing in the shadows to watch the woman. "Your outfit is cliché, by the way. A domino mask? Really? And are the ears and tail necessary?"

"Very! I'm a cat burglar! I need them!"

"You tried to mug me at knifepoint! Go steal a priceless painting the from the Louvre if you want to be a cat burglar!"

"They have a very complicated security system!"

"Work around it!" With that, the woman grabbed his knife and ran. He didn't follow, choosing to nurse his aching hand. (Though his pride ached more.)

She walked by again the next night.

"You know, I don't think I ever got your name, Princess," he said as he fell into step beside her.

"That's because I never gave it. Are you going to mug me again?"

"Nah, not tonight. My hand still hurts." A few minutes of tense silence later, he hopped in front of her and turned around, walking backwards to face her. "Can I get your name?"

"Nope."

"Aw, come on! I just want to know you a little better." He winked, hoping to liven her bored expression.

"No."

"Throw me a bone?"

"I've got some catnip at home."

"Ha ha." He slowed to walk beside her again, pouting. They walked in silence again.

"Marinette."

"Hm?"

"My name is Marinette."

"It's pretty. Listen, Princess-"

"I just told you my name."

"I like Princess better. Listen, Princess. It's dangerous out here. Case in point." He smirked as he lifted his hands to point at himself, flexing his arms. Marinette rolled her eyes. "So, what are you doing out here in the middle of the night?"

"Working. And don't worry about me; I can take care of myself. Or should I demonstrate again?" She pulled her yo-to from her pocket and smiled at him.

"No! No, I'm fine." Another pause. "So what kind of job forces you out in the middle of the woods at -" he checked his watch - "three in the morning?"

"You're pushing your luck now."

He shrugged. "It's bad enough already. Just wondering."

"It's complicated," she said after a while. "Sort of a family thing. Kind of boring, actually. What about you? What brings you out here mugging poor, defenseless girls in the middle of the night?"

"I'd hardly call you defenseless," he snickered. His smile saddened as he continued. "My life sucks. My father is neglectful and only wants me to be a 'model citizen' - " Chat Noir snorted at his own private joke - "and I'm incredibly lonely. This is kind of my only escape from reality."

"Bummer. Hey, wait here a minute, ok?"

"Whatever you say, Princess." She disappeared into a shack in the distance. Chat Noir jumped when a fierce growl came from the shack, followed by the sounds of a struggle. Every wham!, smack!, and boom! he heard seemed to lurch the building in an almost cartoon manner. Finally, just as he was about to give a battle cry and charge, there was a flash of light and Marinette slamming the door shut. She walked by him, patting her coat to free it of dust, and smoothing down her hair.

"Hey, little kitten, do me a favor? Tell me if I look presentable?"

He'd only been staring until then. "I don't... I- what? Amazing..." he muttered in disbelief, looking from her to the building, then back. "I-I mean, you always look amazing, Princess!" He tried to save his fumbled words by taking one of her hands and bowing, planting a kiss on her knuckles.

She raised an eyebrow, acknowledging his cover-up, and rolled her eyes. "I meant in a normal way, little kitten."

"Wait a minute. What, exactly, does 'little kitten' mean?"

She shrugged. "You call me Princess. I call you little kitten. Sounds fair to me."

"No! Your beauty exceeds that of a princess! You deserve that title, at least. But why choose 'little kitten' when there are so many better options?"

"It just fits you."

"I'm taller than you!" he practically screeched, cringing when his voice cracked. Marinette shrugged again, trying (and failing) to hide a smug smile.

"It fits." He hmphed and pouted, arms crossed against his chest, but smiled when he realized the silence this time was comfortable.

She didn't show up the next day.

Or the next.

Or the one after that.

Chat Noir gave up on the seventeenth night, settling to be happy about finally going to university and leaving his lonely life behind.

"So, what's your job go to do with fighting bears in the forest after dark?"

Marinette groaned as she heard the voice at her window. "How did you find me, little kitten?"

"I'm a normal civilian when the sun is up. I came here earlier, when the bakery was open, and what did I find? Lo and behold, there you were working the register. You make really good cookies, by the way."

Chat Noir sat himself on the windowsill, and Marinette turned her chair to face him, leaving one arm on her desk to prop her head on. "Is this your attempt at cat burglary?"

"Yeah. No. I don't know. I just thought I'd go for the stealthy approach tonight."

"You kind of ruined it."

He shrugged. "I got curious. Now tell me." He leaned forward, not quite entering her room but not quite out of it either. "What's a bakery got to do with the nights we met?"

"Nothing, actually. This is just helping out my parents."

"And the other thing is...?"

"None of your business. I'm not telling. Not some wanna-be cat burglar like you. Seriously, ear and a tail?"

"Art is so unappreciated!" He put a hand to his forehead and dramatically leaned back, cursing when he slipped off the sill and fell onto her balcony. "Damn my bad luck!"

"You okay, little kitten?" Marinette asked as she moved to the window. She put her hands on the sill between his feet - the only parts of him that stayed there - and leaned out over him.

"I must say, Princess," he purred with a suggestive wink, "you look lovely when you're above me like this. Quite the stunning angle."

If he'd been any slower, he would have lost his feet. That's how fast she shut and locked the window. He peered through the glass as she returned to her desk, face red. When she looked up and still saw him there, waving his fingers happily, she closed the curtains.

The next time they met was at a hospital.

Well, not met, really. Adrien just saw her there, sitting in a waiting room. Without the disguise of Chat Noir, though, he wasn't brave enough to approach her.

He did ask her about it that night, when he donned the mask. "So what were you doing at the hospital?"

She stiffened on her lounge and gave him a quick glance. "Stalking me, little kitten?"

"I told you before, I'm not the devilishly handsome Chat Noir until after dark. I saw you there while visiting a friend. You were outside, in the waiting room, weren't you?" His teasing edge fell away, replaced by a troubled look. "My condolences. Who was she, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I don't really know much about the family." Marinette frowned. "Who are you talking about?"

"The woman who died. I heard them. She had a rare disease. You stood behind the doctor, comforting her sister."

Her lips pulled forward in a curious pout. "You saw that? The woman and everything?" He nodded, and she put her hand to her chin. "I can't believe... I need to work on something." She stood and pushed him out the window. "Come by next week. I might be able to tell you yet."

"Tell me? You mean your job?" She shot him a conspiratorial wink and put a finger to her lips.

"Guess I've tamed this alley cat, huh?"

"You wish! I'm just stopping by for some more of those wonderful treats!"

"My mom always warned me not to feed stray cats. They remember where the food is." Marinette smiled as she tossed him a bag of today's leftovers. He dug through it for a minute, deciding on a cupcake with no icing.

"Cut a guy some slack, Marinette," he said as he bit into it and shut his eyes, letting the taste of orange and cream unfold in his mouth. He twirled around, sinking into a plush deck chair. "Mmm-mm-mm! These are the best!" Marinette laughed lightly, offering him a cup of tea. He took it graciously, sipping it to test the flavor. "Heavenly," he sighed as he stared at her.

"The food or the night?"

"Both, really, but I was talking about you." She laughed again, blushing as she bopped him on his arm. "So where are we going tonight?"

"You know I don't like you coming with me. Humans get in the way." She still tilted her head in thought, a finger on her chin, before grabbing her yo-yo from the table. She slid the screen up and said, "Tikki, where are the hotspots tonight?" There was a small beep as the computer processed her question.

"The Seine has some activity tonight. A demon has caused several boating accidents, resulting in ten deaths so far. Chloé is already on the scene, and Rose is en route. Juleka is at a hospital where the victims of a three-car incident were taken. Ivan is tackling another demon at Collège Françoise Dupont."

"What are the threat level of the demons?"

"Eight at the Seine, five at the Collège."

"They're going to need help," she told Chat Noir. He jumped up from the seat, tucking the bag into his belt.

"Well, let's go!" he said as he perched on the rail. He aimed himself at the next roof, preparing to jump for it when he felt a tug on his belt-tail.

"No way. Not level five or eight. Qualified Reapers only." Marinette tied the belt to a wrought-iron table and traced a few lines over it with her finger.

"Come on! I can help!"

"You can see. That won't help much. I don't want you to get hurt or worse."

"Who says I'll get hurt?" He yanked his tail, trying to untie the knot. "Come on, just this once!"

"Level three or lower. That's the deal." She kissed his cheek, then looked into his eyes. "Besides, there are others out. Not every Reaper approves of telling a human, no matter how gifted." With another kiss and a quick wink, she was gone, floating away on scarlet-colored clouds. Chat Noir tugged at his tail a bit more, trying to loosen the knot, but to no avail. Whatever magic she'd used to keep it tied was not something he could undo. He decided to sit on the table, munching on a few of the delicacies he'd received as he thought of this whole 'Grim Reaper' business she was involved in.

He hadn't believed it at first. The Grim Reaper wasn't real, couldn't be real. Death was just that. The end of a life. And he'd always considered it the end of an existence as well. But if Marinette really did go out and collect souls, if she did take them across some grand river in the sky or underworld or wherever else, then that meant people did exist after their physical bodies gave out. And honestly, he didn't know what to do with that information. Marinette told him the history of Grim Reapers - how they started out as humans that were given the gift of immortality should they want it. How they developed tools to help fight demons. How they formed an organization to protect and inform each other about important events. How that organization paid them for each individual soul they brought in.

He briefly wondered why he kept coming back to her. But he did, and it was something he couldn't help. This new world was so fun, so exciting. He wanted to be a part of it. It was bound to be more successful than his current career as a cat burglar/model. This is why I keep coming back, he reasoned, this and only this. But the ghost of Marinette's kisses still lingered on his cheek, and he brought out his phone to scan the news livestreams for anything on either the Seine or the collège. He paused when he saw a red cloak ("A magic garment woven from stars and shadows to hide my presence," she'd told him once. It didn't show up for normal humans.) flash across the screen as a reporter described an earthquake that seemed strangely localized around a school. He'd paused the video right as the figure was turning her towards the camera while dodging a blur beside her. Her face was hidden by a hood, but he could see the brilliant smile just beneath the shadows. He stroked his cheek and unpaused the video, watching as she danced across the field, disappointed when she went off-camera, and smiled softly as she laughed out loud with another robed figure.

Well, that settles it. I'm in love with a god damn Grim Reaper.

A/N: This is really rushed and the ending just kind of jumps forward in time but if this garners enough interest, I've actually built a whole world around this AU and may make it into a more fleshed-out fic. To be honest, this... Started out as an angst-fic where Chat Noir was a grim reaper that fell in love with Marinette when he was supposed to take her life and it turned into something that may be worth another looking into with a deeper plot line and actual planning? What? All inspired by the song "O Death" (specifically the Until Dawn version).