It had been one crazy night in the city of love, Chat thought idly as he stood hidden in the shadows on a rooftop, watching Ladybug give one final casual wave before she swung towards the glittering light of the Eiffel tower. Although, the majority of the time he spent as Chat Noir could be considered crazy, so he didn't really know what could be classed as crazy for the superhero duo. Their opponents didn't tend to be the stripy shirt burglar types you would see in cartoons, and their Akuma victim that night had been a particularly big brute of an opponent, a boxer in everyday life. He winced and clutched his side with a clawed hand, a small sharp stab of pain reminding him just how brutal tonight's encounter had been. But he would have felt much worse if even just one of those heavy punches had made contact with Ladybug so he was glad in a way.

Part of him was usually sad to see his Lady swing away towards the Parisian lights dotting the night horizon, but tonight part of him was also relieved. He had done a good job of keeping his Lady safe, and keeping his cheeky smile in place during the fight. But he suspected that his smirk would have slipped if he had needed to keep going for longer than they had. Ladybug was so heroic and charismatic, and he didn't want her to think that he was not a capable and reliable partner. He lived for the time he spent with her, the freedom and adventure.

Chat only turned to head home once he was sure that he could no longer see Ladybug in the distance. Only then did he let his proud stance slump, and he started to feel places on his body crying where bruises were already forming. He mentally told himself off for not evading the particularly rough blows and promised himself that he would be faster next time. He had to be for his Lady, after all.

As he slowly wound his way over and through the rooftops, his usual spring more of a lurch, he realised that home wasn't the best place for him at the moment. It was clear that he needed some medical attention, but he wouldn't be able to get that at home without being asked a barrage of troublesome questions on how he had sustained his injuries in the first place. And he really didn't have the energy left in him to come up with a suitable cover story. Though, he wasn't sure whether he would be believed if he had told the truth about his dashing alter ego. He sighed wearily and closed his bright green eyes in a deep frown, temporarily blending into the dark night perfectly. Where could he get help?

When he opened his eyes, the Dupain-Cheng bakery came into focus. With a lift of his heart, he recalled visiting Marinette there… and she had always been a kind classmate, if a little awkward. How would she feel if a certain cat were to pay her a visit tonight? She would most likely have some sort of first aid kit in her room - she was of course always working on outfits and designs which he assumed would carry the risks of uncooperative pins and other minor cuts. He wondered if she would help, and if he would be pushing his already limited luck if he asked for this favour. But before he had reasoned it out in his head, his feet had started carrying him closer to the bakery, pushed on by the pain throbbing in his shoulder blades and stabbing in his side. Besides, it would just be this time.

He drew closer, climbing somewhat clumsily onto the balcony and noted that the light in Marinette's bedroom wasn't on. He slinked as best as he could to the edge of the skylight, pressing his nose against the glass to better peer into the room. It would be creepy to wait for her if she wasn't home, but he didn't really have a better idea. He scowled in disappointment, wondering if he could think of a different plan. Before he could get any further with a conjuring up a new plan, a sudden bright light assaulted his eyes, causing him to hiss and scrunch his face up reactively. Marinette had returned.

What he hoped would have been a smooth and cool entrance turned into a frantic fumble as he clawed against the glass while his cat instincts told him to flee. His legs scrambled in an ungainly manner, crossing over each other and not really coordinating in a way that was productive for running. One particularly sharp flash of pain in his side though was the final straw, sending him face first into the floor, before rolling onto his side, unable to do anything but curl up and groan into the stone. Chat couldn't see Marinette's reaction, but he heard her small shriek. So much for keeping up his reputation as a slick, cool and charming hero.

"Chat Noir!" she squeaked, flinging the skylight open.

Chat removed his chin from the ground, and he gave a toothy, nervous grin, trying to appear as casual as possible. Though, Marinette's raised eyebrow told him that casual probably wasn't cutting it right now. Good job, Adrien.

"Good evening, my princess," he managed, smiling as sweetly as he could. "I just wanted to stop by."

Marinette's eyebrow lifted even further. The absurdity of the situation now only seemed to present itself to Chat. "You just wanted to stop by", she repeated, and he realised how dumb it sounded once she had repeated his words.

"W-well, actually, I did have a reason for dropping by", he began to explain, sitting up slowly, wincing. "I was hoping you could help me."

Marinette's puzzled expression suddenly melted somewhat at his grimaces, and she climbed forward to help him stand. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing Ladybug and I couldn't handle," he winked, brushing aside her question. "But, I was wondering if you had a first aid kit?"

He grinned sheepishly at her, and he could see that she had more questions on her mind, but she obviously chose to ignore them, and helped him to his feet, shaking her head.

"Come inside silly kitty. We'll get you patched up," she said with a defeated sigh. Chat's face lit up at her words, and he was positive that he saw her mouth twitch with a smile.

Down in her room, Marinette pointed toward the chaise lounge sitting underneath the window and Chat obediently followed her instruction. Chat was grateful for the cushioned seat the moment he landed on it, and did his best not to sink completely into it. A cat nap would be perfect right about now, but if his transformation were to run out in front of his classmate, he feared he would give her a heart attack. She didn't quite have the 9 lives Chat Noir often claimed he had, so perhaps not ideal.

"Here we go!" she said brightly, emerging from a cupboard under her desk with a green little box. It stood out amongst all the pink and polka dots that was her room.

"Thanks Princess", he winked at her, earning a roll of her eyes and a withering look that was reminiscent of Ladybug.

"So… are you going to tell me what happened?" she asked, perching next to him and unclipping the box open. "Or are you going to be a cool cat about this one?"

He laughed, regretting it immediately when his side gave him a sharp reminder as to why he was here in the first place. He grasped his side tightly. "Well, that was almost a Chat worthy pun right there", he noted with some pride.

"Honestly, what do you do when a masked hero crashes onto your balcony? I have to say Chat, it doesn't happen every day", Marinette continued, unravelling some bandages. She caught how Chat's bright eyes followed the ribbons of bandage and could virtually see the urge to toy with them written in his face. "So….?"

He smiled sheepishly, nervously running a hand through his hair. It was probably better if he was just straight with her. "I maybe took a few too many punches today. Nothing to worry about, I'm puurrrfectly sure you'll patch me up in no time."

The withering look returned. Chat gave her an apologetic smile in return.

"Well, it's obviously can't be that bad if you're churning out cheesy lines like that", she reasoned with a sigh, but a smile was hiding underneath her frown. "How on earth does Ladybug put up with your shenanigans, crazy cat?"

At the mention of Ladybug, Chat fidgeted slightly, his mood shifting from jovial to wary.

"H-hey, Marinette," he started, glancing at her nervously as her pulled at the zip by his collar, unzipping the top of his suit to reveal a glimpse of toned chest. "Please don't let Ladybug know. Not that she's keeping tabs on me or anything! It's just…"

He turned his head away slightly, unable to look Marinette in the eyes .This was a little but embarrassing to admit, so he focused on removing his arms from his suit as he tried to work out how to phrase the next part. He felt his mouth curl nervously at the corners.

"I don't want her to think that I'm too weak to support her." His suit dropped to his waist, revealing his slender but muscled chest, covered in sore looking scratches and mottling bruises. There was a particularly vicious looking slash just to the side of his ribcage. "I don't want to stop being her Chat."

Chat suddenly found himself feeling uncomfortable under Marinette's gaze, and wondered whether that had been too personal to admit. After a period of silence, he looked back at her to find her stare fixated on him, her expression a mixture of sadness and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Just our little secret, okay?" He winked at her, his wonky smile carrying a hint of doubt.

"Chat…I'm sure she wouldn't think of you like that." She said it with so much sincerity that Chat almost believed her.

"That's very sweet of you to say…but I don't want her to worry. Ladybug already has so much on her plate saving Paris and I don't need to add to her list of worries."

Chat knew that voice was betraying his fears, but he felt like Marinette could be trusted. He was pretty sure that she would keep this secret for him. Ladybug's thoughts might be a bit of a mystery to him, but he could just tell Marinette wasn't planning on telling anyone.

"I don't think she has to worry at all," Marinette continued, uncapping a tube of antiseptic cream. Chat winced and hissed gently as her fingers applied the cool cream to the smaller cuts. "Ladybug is very lucky to have someone like you. Someone who cares so much for her."

I do care so, so very much, Chat thought, feeling simultaneously lucky and defeated at his own internal admission. His Lady had a tight hold on his heart that sometimes it was unbearable.

Marinette cringed, mistaking his expression for one of discomfort. "I'm sorry. This will hurt a little bit. I will try and be quick. You really had a number pulled on you."

Chat smiled, some of his usual swag returning. "I can't complain about having such a pretty lady pawing my chest," he purred into her ear as she hovered over him. "I'm pretty sure you must be enjoying this too – I have a pretty amazing physique. I don't let just anyone touch me either."

Her response was to roll her eyes and dab some cream onto the tip of his nose. He went to offer a quick witted reply, instead choosing to cheekily smirk to himself,

"So of all the ladies of Paris, why stalk my trapdoor tonight?" Marinette questioned him, glancing at him as her fingers continued applying cream over the scratches. There were so many of them. "Not that I am not thrilled to have the famous Chat Noir in my room – I was just wondering…"

He considered his answer for a moment. I'm your classmate and think you're cool and sweet enough to help me without running to the press/freaking out about this whole thing. No, that wasn't right. Something not so needy, something that wasn't such a big revelation. Something that wouldn't faze her…

"I remembered that time I saved you from your awful date, and thought that you could return the favour," he said, raising an eyebrow, smirk growing wider. "If I recall, I did save you from a sinking boat…"

Marinette was quick to respond. "If I recall, I told you how to use your staff to get us off the boat."

Chat's eyebrow dropped back to its rightful place, his smirk now sheepish. This Marinette did not seem to be the type to faze easily. "Touché, my princess. But I had the situation well under control, I assure you."

The giggle that his classmate made at his comment was unexpected and adorable, hijacking his train of thoughts from his previous heroic feats, to consider the girl who currently knelt beside him. It was then that he had trouble recalling much about her, realising that he didn't know a great deal about. She liked sewing, Jagged Stone and video games, she could make a stunning tray of cookies, was a brilliant designed and…well. That was it. He gazed at her, almost as if he could suddenly glean some Marinette trivia just by looking at the top of her head, and asked himself if he had ever seen her as relaxed around Adrien before.

Sure, there had been moments where she was preoccupied with other things when he had been able to experience the Marinette that his classmates knew – the strong willed, honest, thoughtful and sweet girl that tackled all of the classes problems as student president and stood up for every single one of them when they were in need. Yet, most of the time, she didn't talk to him. She didn't talk to him half as much as everyone else in the class, and often left the scene quickly when he would arrive. He felt a pang of what he could only identify as jealousy, but he was perplexed as to why he suddenly felt like this.

The smallest of his scratches were now out of the way, and her tentative fingers traced round the nastiest of the bruises, as she marvelled at their brilliant colours. Her hands moved slowly and lightly across his skin, until she reached the nasty wound by his ribs. Chat was entranced by her hands working their way across his chest. His unreasonable jealously quickly dimmed into a distant nag in the back of his mind, replaced by a curiosity and anticipation he wasn't expecting, the sensation of her fingers suddenly all he could think about.

"Oh Chat…" she sighed, this time coating her words in sympathy. "This one looks really painful."

Marinette broke her gaze from his battle wound to give him a concerned look. Chat felt the air leave his lungs a little when he noticed that her eyes were so similar to the cerulean glimmer of his Lady's. The thought of staring into Ladybug's eyes caused his stomach to flip, and he swallowed, trying to push back those thoughts for a more appropriate time.

"Ahh, it stings a little", he managed, deciding not to put the tough guy act on. "Actually, it stings a lot."

"This…really will hurt," she warned, dabbing a small amount of cream on her finger before lowering it cautiously to the edge of the wound.

The sharp, burning sting was instant and Chat inhaled a hiss through his teeth, tensing his body at the sensation. Marinette took advantage of his reaction, and carried on, at least having the decency to look apologetic as she worked.

"On the bright side, I don't think any of these battle trophies will scar your otherwise reasonable chest," she joked in an attempt to lighten the mood, a slight tinge of pink creeping on her cheeks.

"Reasonable?!" he said incredulously, a devilish grin revealing that his feelings had not in fact been hurt in any way. He waved a hand down the length of his chest and stomach, her eyes it following quickly. "This is a masterpiece worthy of the Louvre. Look at these chiselled abs, these stunning muscles…"

Chat's grin widened when he caught her drinking in the sight of him, causing her blush to intensify.

"You-!"

"Don't worry, I won't hold it against you", he murmured, giving her a slow and deliberate wink, lips still curled. "Unless you want me to that is-"

"Chat", she interrupted calmly, face twitching with barely concealed irritation. "Unless you want me to stick this cream up your nose-".

His clear laughter rang out at her words, before his side gave his a quick reminder of why he was here in the first place. Marinette had never spoken to him like that before and he had to admit that he quite enjoyed the thrill of teasing her. Would he be able to get her to talk so freely around Adrien?

"I kid, I kid!" he grinned, leaning slightly so he could see her pouting face. "But aren't you a cutie when you get angry."

Marinette wasn't able to finish the first aid quickly enough after that. Once the cream was applied, she wrapped the bandages across his wound and round his chest as speedily as possible, securing it in place with a couple of loops round his shoulder. It was during this time that Adrien made a mental note to spend more time with Marinette. He had underestimated how cool she really was, and he decided that he wanted to get to know better as Adrien. Not many people would have remained as clear headed as she had when a leather clad hero crashes their evening.

Only if she lets me hang out with her without going all weird on me, he thought sadly, slipping his arms back into his suit, resisting the urge to throw out a joke to the girl who was hastily packing her first aid supplies away.

That night, Chat thanked Marinette and left her on her balcony, illuminated by the light of the fairy lights. He disappeared with a cheeky smirk and small salute into the inky skyline, feeling lifted.

By the time he had reached the window ledge of his bedroom, he had already formed a few plans in his head designed to hopefully learn more about Marinette. The transformation broke as he hopped inside his bedroom, Plagg floating off with a moan about how exhausted he was.

Adrien quirked an eyebrow at him, chuckling the moment Plagg dive bombed into a waiting plate of camembert, obviously not exhausted enough bypass his favourite treat. He couldn't say that he didn't deserve it after the crime fighting session earlier – it had been a long and arduous battle and his kwami friend had helped him greatly. Adrien watched him devour the cheese as he lifted the corner of his t-shirt to check out the damage. But he paused in front of his mirror when he saw the white blob of cream on the tip of his nose.

He narrowed his eyes, smiling wistfully. It seems like he really didn't know his classmate after all.