A/N: Hello fellow Miraculous fans! So, this story was originally a request on my tumblr account, but since there was so much interest in it I decided to continue writing it out into a story, I'm not sure how long it will be though, but let's hope it won't get too dull! :3

Full Summary: After Lieut. Dupain-Cheng apprehends the most dangerous criminal of France, Chat Noir, she is forced to live with him due to a shortage of cells to hold him captive. During the duration of his case being handled by officials, she will need to keep an eye on him. Marinette is no stranger to playing rough. Chat Noir wasn't one either. One of the best cops around forced to live with one of the worst criminals alone in her home? Only hilarity, chaos and a good deal of hissing ensues.

Prompt: Forced Living Together Circumstances with Cop!Mari & Criminal!Chat

Disclaimer: I don't own Miraculous Ladybug!

"Marinette, will you be alright?" Alya adjusted the bag slung over her shoulder and the documents of the case she held in her hand, warily watching the handcuffed man behind her friend, "Why don't you just send him into one of the shared cells?" the news reporter glanced at the scowling but calm man, hands bound in cuffs, feet cuffed with a slightly longer chain to enable walking but not running. Even his neck was in a metallic collar, a restraining device.

She was surprised none of them were under electricity.

The dark-haired woman smiled, only visible to her best friend, "He may be a dangerous criminal Alya, but he's not an animal. Some of them already sleep on blankets on the floor, until we get more room it can't be changed." She paused, lastly packing the files of his case in her bag, "Besides, he's too dangerous to be in the same room as them."

"Oh, but not dangerous enough for you?" Alya stared her friend down but Marinette shook her head, squeezing her shoulder meaningfully, "I'll have you on speed dial, if you don't pick up by the third ring, I'm coming over with a SWAT team." The auburn haired woman fixed the criminal with a suspicious look, "And a shock stick."

The handcuffed man narrowed his eyes menacingly in return and Alya had to admit, with the black mask hiding his identity, the messy blond hair and the weirdly, sharp-looking teeth, he did look as fearsome as the media portrayed him to be. She tried not to look as fearful as she felt from the intense look.

"Let's go." Marinette's voice when talking to the criminal turned from soft to cutting in an instant, commanding respect and authority, the badge strapped to her belt only seemed to accentuate that further. Sometimes, Alya was jealous of how quickly and effectively her smaller friend could command respect in a room full of people.

The reporter watched their backs as they exited, the chained man's taller, bigger body nearly hiding all of her friend's figure.

She clutched the files in her hands tightly, a copy of the ones in Marinette's bag.

The name on top of the papers was printed in big, bold letters.

Chat Noir

The moment they neared the door he assumed was her private apartment, the woman quickened her pace slightly to reach it first and unlock it, punching in a code he couldn't see and he briefly thought of commenting how it was dangerous to turn her back to him, but he bit his tongue.

He had no say nor power in the position he was currently in, the fact that the cop before him was fully aware of it aggravated his nerves.

She opened the door and he hesitated, feet planted firmly on the small rug in front of the door, the words "Welcome!" on it made him think this little arrangement would be anything but.

Her voice cut through his wandering mind like a blade, "If you prefer sleeping outside, that can be arranged." He fixed the stupid cop with a glare, before shuffling his way inside as best as he could with his feet chained, trying to retain as much dignity as possible in his sorry state.

He stood rigidly in the threshold of what appeared to be a living room she'd led him to, warily straining all his senses, listening to the woman drop her bag somewhere behind him before moving passed him towards the connected kitchen.

She must've felt eyes on her, but didn't react, producing something from her pocket before returning to his side.

He watched her warily, resisting the urge to try and headbut her and escape. What she did next caught him off guard.

She went on her knees.

His body tensed when he felt her hands on his feet, his teeth clenching in brief outrage until he noticed the pressure on his feet was gone.

He looked down.

She had the wretched cuffs in her hand, before moving up towards his face. He instinctively backed away, turning his head defiantly and she paused.

He resisted the urge to glance at her when she spoke, "You must be wondering why I'm taking away your chains. Well, that's only for your feet and neck, these stay on." She tapped the ones binding his hands and he'd figured they would, "You may be a criminal, but you're not an animal. No one will be treated as such in my house." Her hands carefully moved towards his neck, movements slow to not alarm him.

Her earlier words drifted back to him and he finally allowed himself to speak, "That wasn't your sole reason for keeping me here, was it?" green eyes stubbornly refused to meet her bluebell ones.

She snorted as she carefully undid the thick metal collar on his neck, soft fingers briefly brushing against his warm skin here and there, his body was as rigid as a wall, "That was the number one reason, I guess, but you're right, I had another one too." He waited patiently, feeling the pressure around his neck loosen finally, "You aren't an ordinary criminal, you would finish them in a matter of minutes and cause a scene in the department and try to escape. Putting you into the same cell as the rest of the criminals would be a rookie mistake."

"But you're no rookie." Finally, he looked at her, toxic green eyes staring her down menacingly.

Her soft bluebell ones rose to the challenge, "Neither are you."

They stayed like that in silence, gazes locked, a battle of wills silently communicated between them, neither of them willing to back down.

His gaze narrowed when she rose an eyebrow, "I do hope you enjoy Chinese cooking."

She made her way back to her kitchen and he stood for several more minutes in the doorway of the living room, until the scent of the food, admittedly delicious, wafted towards him, he reluctantly walked towards the table and sat down at one of the chairs.

It sickened him to be reduced to a captive, but he would bide his time and plan his escape as soon as she fell asleep.

His eyes were locked onto the twin guns holstered to her hips and she was well aware of that fact as she reheated their supper, glad to have made a larger portion.

After supper, he'd rooted himself to the couch, his temporary sleeping space for the supposed several weeks until his case was handled and done for, he didn't even dare think of if it extended to months. Even if it did, he would've figured out a escape route by then no doubt.

The woman was distracted now, she was typing something on her computer, information about him and his case scattered on the small chair next to her and the available space on her desk. His gaze flicked to the clock for what felt like the tenth time in the span of five minutes.

11:55pm

Did this woman sleep? Didn't she have work tomorrow? Why was she still awake? He couldn't do anything with her still up and about.

"You must be pretty impatient looking at the clock all the time." He scoffed, flexing his hands, his claw-tipped gloves aching to sink themselves into her skin. At least she'd left his mask and everything on, despite her colleague's urgencies to remove them. Either way she'd figured his identity out, or respected his privacy, none of which he believed. Why she did what she did, he couldn't figure out. His identity was secondary in this case, or so they thought, his identity could remain secret a little longer, their priority was to locate all the links in his criminal organization, which was a difficult, time consuming feat of itself.

Having his identity wouldn't reveal anything and since the woman caught on how important it was for him, she chose not to rip the mask off his face, despite her ability to do so. He didn't want to admit it, but out of all the bluebottles in her department, he'd probably shoot her last.

"Does the cat need to use the litter box?" her snarky remark cut through the silence airily.

First. He released a low growl, shifting in his seat in displeasure. He'd be dead than admit the slight urge to use the bathroom. He could last all night without going, but she didn't have to know that.

The cop hummed slightly, "Sorry, that was disrespectful." She coughed into her hand, returning to her research and speedy typing on the computer.

He felt sparks of anger curling in his chest and he had an idea. It was quite risky, but with her attention to the screen and his agility, he could just pull it off. The short chain on his wrists was long enough to be able to strangle somebody, perhaps it would work.

With no sound, he rose from the couch, waiting several beats to see if she'd noticed from the corner of her eye. He blended into the shadows of the surrounding darkness, the only source of light from the screen aiding him in hiding.

He moved behind her, her fingers never once faltering on writing the report she had opened on her computer, despite his close presence he was sure she must've detected. He'd dropped the plan when he saw the dual guns still strapped on to her, he was sure she had more hidden weapons somewhere on her body. He wasn't a fool, but he would try to find an opening.

His gaze cut to the top of her head, he knew she was also aware of his hidden intent, "Hm…you didn't flinch." The chains rattled slightly when he grabbed onto her chair, he scented the air like a cat, "You have no fear either…"

Her voice was calm, even, "Is there a reason to?"

He chuckled darkly, eyes glowing, "I'm a suspect in multiple murders, leader of a lethal criminal organization." His knuckles were a hair's breath away from touching her back, "You know about my training and yet you dare to turn your back to me?" an amused grin curled his lips, feeling excited about a challenge.

She scoffed softly, "The same can be said about you. I assume, you're well aware of my training and you suspect me of carrying multiple weapons on my body, which I won't correct you on." Her fingers typed with the same fluidity as before, "So tell me, why should I not turn my back on the innocent man in my own home?"

His grin left his lips, "Innocent man?" was she delusional? She herself called him a criminal!

This time, she turned her head slightly, just to see him from the corner of her eye, "Suspects are innocent until proven guilty." She stood now to her full height, a head shorter than him, the chair was the only thing between them now, "For as long as the investigation runs, you'll remain here where I can keep an eye on you." Her knowing, fierce expression melted away in a calm, almost kind smile, "Isn't that right, Chat Noir?"

He bit back the scathing retort bubbling in the back of his throat, instead he fixed her with a look, the air between them thick, "If you say so, lieutenant." Her title was dripping with venom and mockery, but she didn't let that deter her at all.

"I trust you can arrange your bed yourself." Her gaze briefly flicked down to his bound hands before gesturing towards the couch, turning around to shut down her computer and gather the paperwork.

He scoffed, silently planning her early demise in the morning.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed!