A/N: The 4th chapter of the separate (Marichat) story "The Beast in Her Home"!

Chapter 4

The dark haired male smirked, smoothly standing up and walking over to the chained blond, a dark grin stretching his lips, "You gotta be more careful, this guy's gotta be locked up."

Chat Noir snarled, "You damn-" he suddenly froze, not moving a single muscle when the man before him moved.

He had been so quick to act, the boot firmly slammed between his spread legs against the couch forcing Chat Noir to still.

The man smiled, leaning down to muster him from above, "-With a leash on too." Both males stared each-other down, one glaring heatedly, the other growling and struggling against his cuffs, muscles tensing to leap at the other man's throat.

Plagg leaned down ominously, staring at the younger man intensely, "Listen up kid, if you dare lay one more finger against her I'll personally turn you into swiss cheese." Marinette wanted to intervene, he was still her suspect after all, but Tikki calmly shook her head, "Understood, kitty?"

Chat Noir didn't like being bossed around, much less from him, "If you know what's good for you jackass, you'll watch your tongue with me, I'm not one of your petty criminals." The blond lifted his head, holding it high in dignity.

Plagg snorted, roughly grabbing the unruly blond tresses and abruptly pulling him down, body lurching forward to bend awkwardly at the waist, a sharp hiss passed through the criminal's clenched teeth, hands fighting to break his restraints.

This time, Marinette pushed passed Tikki and firmly settled her hand on Plagg's forearm, "Plagg, I'd appreciate it if you leave my suspect in one piece." The older man looked down at her, not in malice but curiosity, "Please."

When Tikki herself nodded, Plagg roughly let Chat Noir go, the criminal immediately shooting up to his feet, eyes ablaze and teeth bared like an animal, looking for a fight.

It was only Marinette's body preventing him from adding onto his already high body count, "Calm down!" she struggled against his brute strength and greater weight, feet sliding across the floor before she firmly planted them down and pushed against the man's shoulder and chest.

He finally looked down at her, eyes narrowed in undulated fury, "Quit trying to stop me, I'll fucking-"

"No, you won't!" Marinette's raised voice surprisingly caused him to stop struggling against her, if only for the moment, her voice softened and lowered, so only he could hear, "I'm sorry."

That seemed to stun him enough to stop his advances, shooting a dark look at the smirking man standing beside the red-haired woman. Chat Noir staggered back to sit on the couch, Marinette filing the odd, awkward way he repositioned his legs for later.

Tikki glared admonishingly at her partner, "Plagg, that was a bit too much."

The man rolled his eyes, taking a small piece of camembert from his jacket pocket and plopping it in his mouth.

Tikki sighed, "I'm sorry Marinette, we didn't come here to cause trouble."

A snort.

Tikki slammed her heel on Plagg's boot, not enough to injure, but enough to make him shut up.

He did.

"As I said, we heard nobody came to keep watch here, so Plagg and I volunteered until you returned."

Marinette rose an eyebrow, "You won't stay here all day like everyone else?"

The older woman smiled, shaking her head, "We used to train together in self-defence, I'm confident you can handle him if you keep your guard up. Besides, with the added restraints, he poses a less significant threat." Her eyes briefly swayed to Chat Noir, before they returned to Marinette, "I trust what you're doing Marinette. We'll come by tomorrow with news regarding the Fox."

Chat Noir froze on the couch, "The Fox? They got a lead? How?" he noticed how the man hadn't stopped keeping an eye on him since, "No, wait, this is a trick. They're trying to trick me. They're aware in what relationship I stand to Fox. They want to squeeze me for more information." He set his jaw, eyes fearlessly meeting Plagg's from across the room.

Bastard.

Marinette blinked, the name familiar, "Fox- you don't mean-"

Tikki looked at her meaningfully, squeezing her shoulder, "Mhm, let's clear this up tomorrow." Tikki offered a bright smile, but Marinette knew better.

Getting a lead on a criminal organization as big as the Fox was almost impossible. They're second only to Chat Noir's own gang, dealing with hallucinogens and other drugs in Italy and now France.

Marinette nodded, leading them outside to her door.

Plagg stopped before her, motioning towards the living room, "Keep your guard up, pigtails." He waved goodbye and Marinette nodded, waving both adults goodbye before finally closing and locking her door.

She was done with guests for today.

Marinette ran a hand down her face, nearly tripping over her own feet before she crossed the threshold to the living room.

She was thankful Chat Noir had been too deep in thought to notice her slip-up. At least she preserved her dignity as an authority figure.

A feeling of guilt wedged itself into her heart, despite being a high ranked criminal, Chat Noir just looked like a caged animal.

Still, she was a police officer, an upholder of laws, laws he broke without remorse, many times over.

Now that she stood in the living room like this, it was quiet again and Marinette moved towards the connected kitchen to cut up some fruits and make herself coffee, the stress of the day already putting a toll on her nerves.

Chat Noir's quiet voice made her pause in her rummaging for a knife, "Why did you apologize?"

The lieutenant faltered, before she started washing and cutting up apples, "For Plagg's behavior, he shouldn't have treated you like that."

She heard a snort, "Like you care. I'm nothing but a murderer, after all."

The rhythmic sounds of the knife hitting the board stopped as Marinette's hand froze in midair.

How had he known what she'd uttered back then in the night? Hadn't he been asleep? Hadn't that been…a nightmare?

Almost instinctively, Marinette gingerly touched her side, only feeling the bandage but no deep claw marks.

It had been a nightmare, he couldn't possibly-

"You talked in your sleep and I have good hearing." Her tense body relaxed. She hadn't known she talked in her sleep, that was new. She didn't remember her parents ever telling her that when she was young, at least.

"Yes, well, you are the main suspect for a number of serious crimes." She didn't know why she should feel guilty, it was the truth, he knew it, she knew it, they both knew it.

Chat Noir fell quiet again and Marinette tried to focus on cutting the apples, before reaching for grapes she stopped, "Do you like to eat red grapes?"

For a few seconds, the room was silent until a quiet answer came, "I don't dislike them." Marinette nodded to herself, adding them to the medium-sized bowl.

She threw away the waste into the trash and carried the bowl over to the couch, instead of going away like Chat Noir thought, she sat down on the couch on the opposite end from him, placing the bowl in the middle.

He arched an eyebrow curiously, "Oh, right." Marinette suddenly scooted closer on the soft furniture, closer to him, which made him instinctively tense up, ready for a fight, "I just want to remove your neck brace." The metal was thick, surely very uncomfortable if the way he sometimes craned his neck was any indication.

Chat Noir scoffed, but reluctantly held still when he saw her getting the small key for it out, he turned his head away, tolerating her small fingers fiddling with the metal and occasionally touching the warm skin of his neck.

He jumped and hissed when there was sudden pressure on his leg, his whole body twisted to move away from the woman removing the neck chain, "I knew it."

The blond stilled, gritting his teeth at the pain in his leg, wishing he could throttle her, "What the hell do you think you're doing? Hands off!" the hiss sounded like it came from a real, feral cat and Marinette frowned at how defensive he seemed. The only thing missing was the fur standing on end.

Her expression hardened, "I was right, you are injured." She traced his face, scrunched up in anger and discomfort, noting the fading scratch on the side of his forehead and faint redness on his chin from their fight, "Did I cause it on Monday when you attacked me?"

Had Marinette been a rookie, she would've fell for the intense stare he bestowed her with and the way he seemingly effortlessly supplied the answer, "Yes."

Bluebell eyes narrowed, "I don't believe you." His lips formed into a thin line, "I don't remember striking your legs when we fought."

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, "You threw me into a damn TV, woman!^On a table!"

"Your torso hit the TV, your legs should've been fine. The doctor also didn't write down any injuries or blunt trauma to your legs." The ticked off hiss coming from the criminal only further cemented her suspicions, "Tell me how you got it."

"What do you care? I'm a criminal."

"You're also a human with rights. It's my job to also keep you safe until you get your punishment by the end of your investigation. Now tell me why you're limping." The fury in her eyes increased when the cat remained tight lipped.

She climbed with both legs on the couch, one hand balanced on the couch while other reached for him, Chat Noir immediately drew back in response, "What in-"

Marinette made a move to grab for his legs until he moved them away and bared his teeth at her, "Get the hell-"

"If you won't tell me I'll look at your injury myself!" the threat seemed strong, but Chat Noir knew better.

"Tch, don't hold me for a fool, you wouldn't dare look at my legs yourself. You need another male officer present so I can't accuse you of sexual harassment." She was surprised he knew the law so well, then again, perhaps he broke it so many times he learned it by heart.

Marinette didn't mean to play that card, she despised it when other morally corrupt officers did, but extreme circumstances forced extreme measures, "I can do it by force."

They held each-other at a stalemate, Chat Noir's torso poised in the front, legs farther away from the cop and Marinette's hands on the soft material of her couch, eyes interlocked with furious green.

"Then you're nothing better than the pigs working under or on top of you, cop." The venomous words were practically spat out at her and Marinette filed another detail about him away for later references.

Marinette moved first, but instead of forward she moved back, sliding her feet off the couch and placing the bowl back in the middle, throwing the neck cuff away to the side and turning on the TV.

The criminal blinked, still not moving, suspicious of her next actions.

Instead, Marinette remained calm, forcing her body to relax, eyes locked on the screen while she plucked a sliced apple from the bowl.

Chat Noir tensed when she gently nudged the bowl in his direction, he snorted in response.

She pressed her lips together and picked a up an apple slice, stretching her arm towards his face. His gaze narrowed threateningly. She sighed, "Look, I'm sorry I can't undo your restraints, I know this is humiliating but I want to spare you the shame of having to eat out of a bowl like an animal." The fierce blue was gone and replaced by a kinder gaze, but still guarded.

The man huffed, biting down on the slice and taking it from her offering fingers, swallowing it and munching on it himself. It was only after the third slice that he spoke up quietly after swallowing down the fruit, "…Thanks."

She tried to hide it, but a tiny smile appeared on her lips for the briefest of seconds, "You're welcome."

They sat like that in silence, watching some sitcom on TV, she occasionally offering him fruit until he, surprisingly, politely declined any more.

It was only after three hours that she fell asleep, curled up on the other end of the couch, some nature documentary running in the background.

Chat Noir watched her warily, experimentally kicking the table lightly to see if she would jump.

She didn't.

He couldn't see her eyes moving beneath her closed eyelids either, which meant she was truly asleep.

He carefully moved on the couch with all the grace of his namesake, poised precariously over her sleeping form. Now was a good time as any to try and escape, but he was still bound and had no geographic knowledge of his terrain, he would be like a fish out of water until he got more information on his surroundings.

His eyes raked over her body, trying to discern where she could've hidden the keys to his locks.

They could be anywhere on her police uniform, he couldn't make out any suspicious key-like shapes in any of her pockets, the ones on her waist was her spare house key, as he'd memorized them.

She moved and he tensed, ready to bolt to his original spot, but she was just readjusting, hips wiggling until she got more comfortable.

If she hadn't worn that uniform he would almost call the action somewhat cute.

He eyes zeroed in on the badge stuck to her chest.

Or not.

He briefly glanced at her hips, shaking his head and moving back to his original position.

He huffed in annoyance, eyes looking over her figure before he rolled his eyes in frustration and stubbornly looked to the other side, glaring at the clock.

And it was only 2:00pm.

Fucking great.

Marinette had been dreaming very nicely, until the sweet dream of kind blue eyes had been interrupted by the alarming nuisance of her phone blaring loudly through the whole apartment.

She woke up hastily, nearly falling off the couch in her startled state.

She heard a snort next to her but she ignored it in favor of answering her phone, "Lieutenant Dupain-Cheng, who am I speaking to?" weeks of practicing answering her phone like that had payed of, she could do it even while half-asleep.

Thankfully, it was only Alya.

"Girl! Where were you?! Do you know how worried I was?! I was about to call Nino and head over to your apartment to see if you're still in one piece! Didn't you see all the messages I sent you?!" Alya's distressed voice rang in her ears worse than a school bell, immediately destroying any sleepiness she still had.

"I'm sorry Alya, I'm perfectly fine. I was-" and suddenly, Marinette remembered her 'guest'.

He was innocently sitting on his side, eyes locked on the TV until they swirled to hers when he sensed her stare. He looked oddly…behaved.

"…I fell asleep. Sorry, I didn't see your messages." Marinette smoothed down her hair, relieved to feel her pigtails were still neat. It was a hassle to always do them, no matter how practiced she was.

There was a pause, before Alya spoke again, tone calmer but full of wariness, "You fell asleep? Where is the criminal?! Go and check up on him to see if he destroyed your living room! Remember when I took home that stray cat once? The little furball destroyed almost everything and peed on everything!" Marinette tried hard to force the image of the man beside her peeing everywhere on her furniture out of her mind, least she started laughing.

"Right, well, he's here beside me and my living room is still in tact Alya." She sounded tired, Chat Noir deduced conversations of this nature or another happened often between them.

"So, the reporter was her friend?" Chat Noir discreetly watched the expressions play on her face from the corner of his eye, while pretending to watch the cooking show on TV.

Seriously, who ruined perfectly good croissants by pouring strawberry sauce over them?

"Wait, hold the phone! You mean, YOU fell asleep and he's beside you?! YOU FELL ASLEEP BESIDE A CRIMINAL! MARI-"

Marinette made a shushing motion with her fingers despite her friend not seeing it, "Shh! Alya! Lower your voice, people could be listening in!"

"Fuck the people! I'm alone in my office enjoying a sandwich! Listen girl, I know women in magazines called him handsome and all, but he's still a criminal! He's the forbidden fruit, Marinette! DON'T BITE THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT!" Marinette briefly pulled the phone away from her ear so her eardrums didn't shatter, rolling her eyes at her friend's dramatics.

Reporters.

Chat Noir's ears perked up in mild interest.

Did he hear forbidden fruit?

"Alya, calm down. He's restrained and…still injured, so I'm fine and unscathed." Marinette schooled her features to not give away too much of their conversation to the male beside her, aware he was watching her, " I'll call you later, okay? Everything's fine on my end, tell Luka I'll report to him in the evening."

When Alya agreed, Marinette bid her one last goodbye before she ended the conversation.

"That thing's worse than a firefighter's alarm." The dry comment made her snort softly, setting her phone aside.

Silence settled over them, until Marinette slowly and calmly turned towards him as to not startle the criminal, "Will you tell me how your leg got injured?" her voice was quiet, not the commanding, authoritative voice from earlier.

She was asking, not commanding.

He relaxed slightly, his shoulders lowered but his gaze was still guarded, "If you tell me why you fell asleep, fully aware I could've done something?" he regarded her curiously, trying to read her emotions.

He didn't think she was such a fool as to carelessly fall asleep beside criminals, but he also couldn't figure out why she did.

She replied without missing a beat, gaze steady on his, "I figured you wouldn't attack me. You also didn't attack me in my sleep." The answer stunned him and he quickly masked his surprise.

He released a long drawn out sigh, looking down at his feet, "Why?"

She seemed to know what he was asking, "…I've sent many criminals to jail, as I believe you're one of those too." A disbelieving snort, "But unlike them, you didn't take advantage of me sleeping to attack me. You also didn't fight as dirty as some other thugs I dealt with before. You didn't grab me indecently nor fall for my trick, so I guessed you still had some dignity and respect despite all the crimes you've committed." She sighed, looking at him, "Your turn, Chat Noir."

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, before lifting his head to look at the cop before him, "You're a nuisance, lieutenant." He saw she didn't let herself get phased at all by his comment, so he caved in, "One of your buddies, the ones keeping a watch on me in the infirmary, got bored."

An icy shower ran down Marinette's spine, not believing what she heard, "…What?"

Chat Noir smiled ruefully, patting his leg, "Let's just say they got a bit touchy-feely, that's all." The silent fury in his eyes told her if it hadn't been for the chains on him, he'd been touchy-feely with those officers too.

"How bad?" Marinette suddenly stood up, Chat Noir tensing instinctively when she rushed out of the living room, turning on the lights in what he saw was the bathroom.

"A sprained ankle and a few bruises, nothing they won't get excused for." His eyes flew open when her next words were as cutting as the scissors she had come back with.

"Don't talk like that!" absolute fury and indignation shone so brightly in her eyes, he thought they would light up in a blue flame, "I won't let them get away with this, I'll make sure they're punished for what they've done. Criminal or not, torturing people is wrong." He eyed the rolled up compress gauze, a small dark green plastic container and another roll of gauze in her hands, along with the scissors she placed on the floor.

He tensed when her hand reached for his leg, but she didn't touch him, she settled on the ground on her knees and asked, "May I? I'll only roll up your pants."

He was on two battlefronts, at least that's how the inner conflict within himself felt like now. He didn't like the thought of her touching him, yet she showed she posed no harm, deliberately using a softer tone, making herself smaller and asking for permission.

He bit the inside of his cheek, nodding his consent.

Marinette sighed and gingerly grabbed the material of the dark pants, expertly and quickly rolling them up to reveal a tan, lean leg.

She immediately saw the damage.

The ankle was swollen and bruised, a bluish red, the muscle along the calf also looked slightly bruised.

Biting her lip in sympathy and pity, Marinette gingerly ran her fingers along the swelling, trying to feel if there was worse damage.

A sharp warning hiss reached her ears and she eased off the pressure, "Sorry." Before she grabbed the – was that an elastic ankle brace?

At his bewildered look, Marinette smiled, "You'd be surprised how often cops sprain their ankles when chasing down criminals or doing boring paperwork in the office. You either run after a thug or rush towards the coffee machine." A snort, she thought of amusement, sounded after her comment.

She breathed, "Don't kick me for this, this will hurt." He nodded, bracing himself.

She worked quickly and efficiently, putting the ankle brace on him, making sure it sat properly before wrapping his calf for safe measure. He immediately felt a slightly ticklish sensation on his calf and ankle, until he noticed she put what he assumed was ointment on the gauze and brace before wrapping the injury.

She quickly rolled down his pants leg, looking over at his other one, "Anywhere else?"

He quickly shook his head, "No." there was a minute of silence as she gathered the things off the floor before he swallowed, "Thank you." It felt slightly easier saying the words, even if she was a cop, she helped ease off some of his discomfort. Even a street cat like him knew to be grateful, at least a little.

Marinette nearly dropped the scissors, not expecting the gratitude, especially not in a tone softer than a hiss or a snarl, "You're welcome."

She left quickly to the bathroom and Chat Noir moved his ankle, biting his lip at the pain, but the brace and ointment made it better.

Who knew cops could be so nice.

The woman returned, meeting his eyes, "Can you describe them?"

He thought for a moment if he should, then a grin stretched his lips and a dark glint shone in his eyes, "Like the back of my hand."

In a rare moment of allowing emotions in front of criminals, Marinette smiled back.

She usually didn't support violence, but in this case, she'll enjoy it, just a little.

She glanced at the clock, it was close to six pm. Had she slept a full fours hours?!

Marinette shook her head, thinking to turn in to bed earlier so she didn't fall asleep next to Chat Noir again.

While she felt a bit more reassured that he wouldn't – and partly couldn't – attack her in her sleep, she still didn't feel very comfortable falling asleep in his immediate presence. It may be her instincts as a cop to a criminal or more simpler – a woman alone with a male stranger.

She didn't ponder long on it, taking her gun holsters and adjusting them on her body, tucking the third one on the holster around her hips before she checked if she had everything.

She noticed Chat Noir watching her, but didn't let herself become unfocused, "I'll be gone for an hour or two." again, their eyes met, "Don't cause trouble or you will regret it."

Feeling slightly more at ease with the now bearable amount of pain he had to deal with, Chat Noir offered the woman a small smirk, "Sad I can't say the same for you, lieutenant."

Her rank uttered from his mouth came slightly softer, not the tone dripping with poison, sarcasm, mockery or pure hatred.

He reminded her of an old fairy tale story, where the lion had a thorn stuck to its paw and roared and raged until a little mouse pulled it out, then the lion returned to being kind again.

Something in Marinette's heart hardened when she glanced at the thick, heavy hand- and foot cuffs chaining Chat Noir. She gave the room one last controlling glance, briefly settling on Chat Noir before she turned around and headed for the small corridor, putting on her shoes and jacket.

She grabbed her keys from the keyhole and opened the door, "This isn't a fairy tale."

Marinette closed her door shut and locked it, setting the deadbolt, "And I'm no mouse."

Chat Noir tested his foot, noticing the ointment working to improve the pain, the swelling was still there of course, but he didn't feel as agitated due to the pain anymore.

He glanced at the French windows, remembering the double lock on it, before he settled back against the couch, eyes locked on the TV then on the remote.

Thankfully, the TV was still on.

There was still that cooking show running.

He contemplated trying to manipulate the remote with his teeth or nose or anything to push the buttons, but then noticed the screen zoomed in on the croissants with the blasphemous strawberry sauce on them.

His gaze narrowed suspiciously, eyes locked on it as the chef cut it in half, the camera showing a close up view of the inside.

If Chat Noir's hands had been free, he would've flipped the table.

Peanut butter.

They mixed it with peanut butter.

Chat Noir took a shaky breath, moving forward and stabbing the remote's volume button with his nose, ignoring the slight throbbing in favor of listening in to the chef's explanation as to why on earth one would ruin a perfectly good croissant.

Chat Noir knew it.

That chef would be the next one on his hit list as soon as he got out.

Marinette's short drive to the precinct finally gave her a sense of calmness and privacy she hadn't experienced in a whole week, ever since she started housing the criminal in her home. She was constantly watched (at least she had to pretend to prevent making mistakes), couldn't leave him alone for long periods of time in fear of him trying to escape and due to her own restless paranoia.

She always denied it, but Alya was right. Marinette was practically married to her job, she had little social contacts outside of work, except some old classmates, them being people she also worked with.

Alya, Marc, Kim, Ivan, Alix on occasion, Juleka who worked in the pathology sector, occasionally Rose who visited from her work in the flower shop. Luka, her superior.

She often thought of cases, the difficult ones who lasted for a long time, when she got home, it was the baggage that came with being a cop directly working in the front lines. Office work had been an option, but Marinette wasn't one to stay cooped up in a room for too long. Even if she did deal with society's lowest scum, she got out and did something, actively keeping the people around her safe.

That thought alone made her sleep a bit easier.

Much too quick to her liking, Marinette was already in front of the police department. She parked her car quickly, thankfully the row was near to empty, her colleagues patrolling the city by now.

She was right, the office was almost completely deserted, except for Luka, who was running a hand down his face and refilling what looked like his fourth cup of coffee. He looked more exhausted than she remembered seeing him yesterday.

He greeted her with a nod and a smile, taking a sip of his coffee, "Hey Ma-Ma-Marinette."

She huffed in mock annoyance, he still used her awkward stuttering phase as a teenager to tease her, even now, "Hey, you seem like this is your fourth cup." She motioned towards the hot coffee and Luka shrugged.

His dress shirt was unbuttoned by the first two buttons, showing a minimum glimpse of a defined collarbone and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

This was Luka Couffaine in the night shifts, a bit messier, a bit sleepier, a bit more laidback. He was generally a more relaxed superior, but at night shifts, due to not many people still working so late, he loosened up a bit more. "How's our pussycat doing? He behaving well?"

Marinette sighed, choosing not to mention the little confrontation in the living room, instead she had another matter to address, "Did you know Tikki and Plagg would visit me? While Chat Noir was alone?" she rose an eyebrow. Usually, any and all actions regarding trained employees of the police force had to be authorized by him before they can be executed.

Luka took a sip of his coffee, "They came to me in the morning, said something about the criminal not being under watch, so I sent them over." He paused, glancing at her, "Wait, did they go inside your apartment?" he seemed bewildered.

Marinette crossed her arms, leaning against one of the empty desks, "I don't know how, maybe Tikki still has a spare key or Plagg picked the lock, which by the way he should stop doing, but Plagg antagonized Chat Noir a bit too much today." She remembered the way both males had started growling and hissing at each-other like real territorial cats. It had been odd to witness.

Luka ran a hand through his hair, "I'm sorry, I'll talk to them tomorrow, I didn't expect them to go in." he sighed, fiddling with the guitar pick in his other hand absentmindedly. It was a thing he did when trying to calm down or organize his thoughts.

Marinette cleared her throat, catching his attention, "Also…there are two police officers I would like to report."

His brow arched, "Report? That's rare, you usually bring them in here yourself."

Marinette's gaze was serious as she looked at him, "It's not about me, but about Chat Noir." Almost immediately the concern vanished from his blue eyes like it got swept away by the wind.

"…I see. What for?" he took another sip of his coffee, watching her intently.

"They physically mistreated him while he was recuperating in the infirmary. I've seen it myself, his right leg sustained a second degree ankle sprain and hematomas along his calf. He's limping." Her gaze hardened imperceptibly, fury from before mountain again, "We can't let this slide."

The man nodded, "Of course not, as much as I rather throw him in the cell, we still have the responsibility of not misusing our authority. Can he offer a description of the two officers?" Luka already reached for pen and paper, discarding his coffee to jot the information down to settle tomorrow.

Marinette smiled, echoing Chat Noir's words, "Like the back of his hand."

Luka rose an eyebrow at the phrase but scribbled the basic information down, folding it and putting it in the pocket of his dress shirt to not forget it.

He observed her for a while, "He's still…restrained?" he disliked the word 'chained', then again, another word seemed incorrect in Chat Noir's case. He was chained up like an animal.

Marinette bit her bottom lip, "I only removed his neck cuff, the thing was uncomfortable, he had red imprints on it along his neck, but I left the chains around his hands and feet, just in case."

Luka sighed in relief, "Good. Please don't remove them, he's dangerous, Marinette." His expression softened, "Remember what I told you, I don't want to see you in that infirmary again."

Marinette touched her side absentmindedly, the pain still there, "Still hurting?"

She smiled at Luka, "A bit, it's fine if I don't apply pressure on it."

He frowned, "I can't believe I'm saying this to a grown woman, but visit the doctor every once and a while. You need to get it checked up. That's an order." He narrowed his eyes over the rim of his cup, sipping the sweet dark liquid of his coffee.

Marinette playfully rolled her eyes, "You're getting better with words lately, you know."

Luka snorted softly, rubbing the back of his neck, "Yeah, well, I can't let my guitar speak for me during work." He shrugged, fiddling with the pick again, "Besides, the job requires it. I can't deal with stubborn colleagues or I can't shut off criminals by singing them ballads."

Marinette giggled, "Who knows, maybe Chat Noir will even meowl if you play a tune."

Luka chuckled, finding the notion of the feline themed criminal meowling to his guitar playing, in the middle of the night, disturbing his neighbors to be a hilarious thought, " On second thought, that could be part of his punishment." They chuckled at their little banter.

"Speaking of the devil, he's…behaving okay?" Luka asked her again, repeating his question from earlier.

Marinette sighed at his worry, "Yes, mom, he's fine." He snorted at her, "You're a worrywart, you know? I'll be fine, I'm a cop too." She pointed at her badge and Luka sighed.

"I know, I'm just…worried." Her expression softened, lips turning up into a genuine smile.

"Yeah…I know." They let the comfortable silence envelop them, alone in the precinct.

For now, Marinette felt safe and finally like she could breathe more easily.

Thank you everyone for reading, I hope you liked it! Also, "The Beast in Her Home" is a separate story (with more chapters) posted on my FFnet, AO3, Tumblr (under lady-charinette) accounts! :3