#gabrielie

=(^ ‘ x ‘ ^)=

It was a chilly evening but Gabriel decided to take a stroll nevertheless. His steps took him to Champs Élysée. Just as he was walking by a dark alley, he heard a faint squeal. He stopped, intrigued. Nooroo popped his head out from Gabriel’s pocket and listened intently. 

Something mewled miserably behind the trash bins and cardboard boxes that occupied the narrow space. The containers shook and another desperate wail broke the silence. 

The sound was so doleful Gabriel’s heart clenched. His empathic powers weren’t even required for him to know the creature needed help. Yet the alley was dark, and he couldn’t find the source of the noise. 

‘Can you see anything, Nooroo?’ he asked his companion.

The kwami shook his head and, without further prompting, he flew to investigate the stash of boxes. He phased through the cardboard just as the first droplets of rain splashed on the pavement. Gabriel reached for his umbrella, but before he could open it, Nooroo called him. 

‘In here, Master!’ He hovered over one of the containers. ‘I need help, she’s trapped.’

She? 

Careful not to make a sound, Gabriel creeped closer and raised the box. Underneath he found the most pitiful cat he’d ever seen. It was a bit bigger than Lady Noir and more round in shape. Its fur was dull, dirty and wet. Gabriel could only guess the cat’s hide must have been silver once, as it looked a bit like a Russian Blue, but now it was a toneless grey. 

The cat looked tired and scared, but it didn’t flee at the sight of a huge man. Maybe it was already done with running, and was just seeking help?

‘We can’t leave her like this, Master,’ Nooroo turned to Gabriel with his big pleading eyes. 

‘Can you understand her?’

‘Not really, just her emotions,’ the kwami admitted. ‘She’s scared and exhausted.’

Gabriel could clearly see it for himself. He crouched and extended a hand. The cat sniffed it once, twice, then tilted her head to rub against his skin. 

Slowly Gabriel took off his jacket and placed it on the ground. ‘Can you tell her we can help her if she comes with us?’ he asked Nooroo. 

The sprite pursed his lips. Then he flew to the jacket and plopped himself in the center waving invitingly at the cat. Hesitantly the animal followed and settled next to the kwami.

‘I’m going to take you somewhere safe and dry,’ Gabriel promised softly. ‘We’ll take care of you.’ 

Gingerly he wrapped the jacket around the cat and Nooroo. Pressing the bundle to his chest he walked back to the mansion as fast as he dared. 

When they returned home, Emilie gasped at the cat’s state; she barked a few orders to the staff. Soon, a bath and fresh towels were ready, followed by a nourishing meal and a comfortable basket where the now fluffy and content cat finally found some rest. 

Chomp Élysée—what Gabriel had decided to name her despite Emilie’s complaints—turned out to be a grateful companion. She wasn’t as lively as Lady Noir, preferring to nap in sunbeams instead of chasing Nooroo over in Gabriel’s study. She purred up a storm when petted, but she always hid her tummy and chomped on anyone who dared to try and stroke the area. She also ate twice the amount Lady Noir would typically consume, which was reflected in her round shape.

‘You need to restrict her diet, dear, or soon she won’t be walking but rolling,’ Emilie would chide Gabriel, but every time Chomp Élysée came demanding food, he simply could not refuse her; the cat’s distressed look in the alley was still too fresh in his memory. 

Maybe he was going soft after all? But Chomp’s happy purr and easy company finally brought back some of the lost joy from his and Nooroo’s life.

>^.^<

They say the more you do something, the easier it becomes. It turns out this same principle works for cats very well. Gabriel had never been more reluctant than when he’d decided to allow Lady Noir into his home. It had taken a lot of time for her to weasel her way into his heart and heal his soul. Taking Chomp Élysée in was a bit simpler precisely because of the Lady Noir experience. Moreover, Emilie didn’t object to the mansion’s newest dweller, and even helped take care of the cat. 

So it really wasn’t such a big surprise when a few weeks later, Gabriel arrived home with not just one but two scrawny striped cats. Emilie didn’t say a word, yet her look was more guarded this time. However, an unexpected ally—Chomp Élysée—left his wife no choice but to accept the newest additions to their flock. The grey cat inspected the pets, gracing each with a friendly lick over their pink noses. She took them straight to her bowl. She held Gabriel’s eye as she allowed the hungry kitties to devour every bit of food in there, including two helpings. Then she nudged them in the direction of her basket and curled with them as the proudest mother hen. It was a miracle in itself that three cats could even fit in there.

Thus it was settled that the Agreste family had just gained two new members: Pusskin and Shakespurr. The cat corner in Gabriel’s study expanded to accommodate two more pets, their beds and a cat tree. Unlike Chomp Élysée, the new cats knew how to have fun. Suddenly Nooroo had his nubs full with keeping an eye on the feline writers. 

That was also the last time Emilie allowed for punny names, which was a shame because Gabriel had enough for a herd. Purrudence, Tabbytha, Margaret Scratcher, just to name a few for the ladies, or Fuzzinator, Catapult and Miraclaws for the boys. Such a waste. Even Clawsby was out of the question. 

>(^w^)<

Someone would say that three cats were a crowd (that someone being Emilie), so the circumstances of the next arrival were a bit unclear. One day a golden maine coon—Croissant, by Emilie’s insistence—just showed up at the mansion’s door. He regarded the Agrestes with his astute green eyes and took over as if the house had been always his. Gabriel supposed Emilie allowed this because the maine coon was basically a feline version of Adrien—from the slender posture to the fine blond fur, from the poised manner to the unnerving green gaze, there was something in Croissant that made it impossible not to fall under his charm. 

Of course, the fact that Croissant curbed Pusskin and Shakespurr’s temper helped a lot. Croissant hadn’t done anything in particular, yet he became the ultimate leader of the feline family. It took one growl from him and the mischievous kitties toned down their shenanigans in an instant. 

And since Croissant was definitely Emilie’s cat, she couldn’t really object when he brought Macaroon home. She was without a shadow of a doubt his partner and shared his intelligent gaze. Her eyes were deep blue. She must have been of Birman breed—not the kind usually associated with strays. Emilie and Gabriel went through no small amount of trouble to find out if anyone was looking for a lost maine coon or a birman cat, as they didn’t want to be accused of stealing other people’s pets. However, in the end it seemed both Croissant and Macaroon had no previous homes or owners. 

Five cats became the point where Emilie drew the line. True, their house was big, and with Adrien abroad they had a substantial supply of space, time and love to share, but enough was enough. 

‘We don’t want them to take over, do we, dear?’ she jested observing the cat colony in Adrien’s room, that had been redecorated to suit the feline needs. 

Confident that the cat limit was firmly established, Emilie left for England to check on their son and to spend some time with her sister. 

Gabriel decided not to tell her that barely three days after her departure he’d agreed to foster Athos, Portos and Aramis (at least he’d kept his promise with their names). It really wasn’t like he’d had any choice in the matter: Gorilla found the first one wandering around the patio, Nathalie then located a box with the second one next to the dumpster. The third decided to sleep under the limousine’s hood and it was a miracle he was discovered before he was grilled on the engine. 

The three musketeers were black with white collars and paws. They might have been brothers with their identically fluffy tails and impressive whiskers. They preferred Gorilla’s company, yet since his wife was allergic to cats, Gabriel graciously decided to let his bodyguard keep them in the mansion. There wasn’t much difference between five and eight cats,  after all. 

=(^ ‘ x ‘ ^)=

What was a lonely ex-villain supposed to do in an empty house? Spoil his cats of course! If it wasn’t for Nooroo and Croissant’s joined efforts, the pets would have walked all over him—especially Pusskin and Shakespurr. But somehow, the cats could always pick up on Gabriel’s mood and knew not to push him beyond his limits. 

Besides, whenever he felt wistful or sad, at least two felines accompanied him. Emilie had been gone for about a week when he let Chomp Élysée into his bed and the other cats followed. He loved how soothing a cat’s purr was. Chomp would settle at the foot of the bed, while Croissant and Macaroon took over Emilie’s side. Pusskin and Shakespurr each secured Gabriel’s legs, while Athos, Portos and Aramis usually fought for a place on any of the pillows. And once Gabriel sank his nose into the soft black fur of a musketeer, there was no way he could throw the cats out of his bedroom. Goodbye, headaches— welcome, good night’s sleep. 

Gabriel’s only complaint was that Chomp would wake him up at dawn with a bite on his big toe, demanding that he feed her, while rousing the rest of the feline family in the process. Gabriel would then descend the stairs to the kitchen, knee deep in cats, who rubbed at his shins affectionately—not so subtly urging him to move faster. 

One day though, Chomp Élysée didn’t wake him. Gabriel blinked the sleep away from his eyes, gently lifted a sleepy Portos from his chest, and looked around. No sign of Chomp in the bed. Gabriel appreciated routine greatly, so immediately he started to worry. He went to the kitchen, the rest of the cats at his heels. He picked Chomp’s favorite food and banged her bowl loudly and repeatedly, but she didn’t come. He left the other cats wolfing down their breakfast and set to look for his first cat.

When he finally found her, in her basket, under his desk, the mystery of Chomp Élysée’s recent appetite and shape was revealed. Gabriel was now the proud owner of twelve cats. 

>^.^<  >^.^<  >^.^<  >^.^<

The kittens were the cutest thing Gabriel had ever seen, baby Adrien excluded. Chanel, Dior, Givenchy and Ricci—absolutely punless nods to his favorite designers—were four little balls of grey fluff. They had him wrapped around their tiny claws in a blink. 

Having them around was so much fun. He could watch them play for hours, with their wee fluffy tails and clumsy movements, sweet mewls and an appetite for life rivalling their mother’s drive for food. Gabriel began to reminisce on how he used to watch little Adrien the same way. He briefly wondered when his son and Marinette would produce a grandchild for him—not that he’d ask, mind you. They were still so young, barely starting their adult life. Besides, he had sworn he’d never be one of those parents, but still it would be delightful to hear baby steps and giggles echoing in the mansion’s cavernous hall. For now Gabriel settled for miniature paws and excited squeals of the four most adorable designer kittens ever.

Yet good things rarely last long. Just as Chanel and her siblings got bold enough to start exploring the mansion, with their mother’s tender supervision, Emilie announced her return. Not only that, she bore auspicious news of Adrien and Marinette’s engagement (yay! one step closer to that grandchild). The happy husband-and-wife-to-be were returning for their break at the same time as her, and Emilie already decreed a dinner with the Dupain-Chengs should be held at the mansion upon their arrival. 

Under normal circumstances Gabriel would be overjoyed to finally get his human family back. There was just one teeny tiny problem—he was eight cats over the limit his wife had set. He was almost sure he could persuade her to keep what he started to think of as probably the biggest cat herd in Paris, but the dinner party was something of an obstacle. Not the best way to introduce new and unauthorized members of their household. He needed a cunning plan.

That’s when Nooroo stepped in with his brilliant idea: Gabriel just had to transfer the surplus cats to the only place in the building no one would visit—his former lair. Before Hawkmoth had risen to power it had been a neglected sunroom, forever waiting on renovation, but now it would do nicely as the cats’ den with a special nursery section for his little treasures. 

Nathalie and Gorilla turned out to be very helpful in furnishing the ex-lair. With some broom work and a fresh coat of paint what was once an akuma hatchery became a feline paradise. Cat trees, scratching posts, tunnels, shelves, beds, baskets, fountains, toys—only the best for Gabriel’s kitties. The team effort allowed the cats to be moved a few days before Emilie’s arrival, giving their pets the necessary time to adjust to a new place. 

The plan worked like a charm. The cats were happy to explore their new playroom and they didn’t even feel inclined to leave the lair. They had everything they needed there. Gabriel had his favorite armchair installed in the sunroom as well, so that he could spend some time watching the cats, and maybe even take a comfortable nap during his lunch breaks.

>^.^<

The celebratory dinner was in full swing and Gabriel was nailing it. He had finally found a worthy match for his pun game in Tom Dupain. The resulting pun-off was definitely the highlight of the evening. The ladies were chuckling, the youngsters were groaning. The only present felines included Lady Noir, who meticulously inspected every corner of the dining room, and Croissant with Macaroon. The two cats decided to act as the guard of honor for Emilie, flanking her chair and chirping happily at their favorite human’s return. The looks on Marinette and Adrien’s faces were priceless.

Everything went smoothly until Lady Noir’s tail turned into bottle brush. Croissant and Macaroon exchanged worried looks. Then all three cats bolted for the door and disappeared. Gabriel seemed to be the only one to notice. He surely was the only one to understand where they’d gone. He excused himself from the company in order to check on the situation in the secret room.

He found all thirteen cats in the lair, all right. Thirteen tails bristled and lashed behind them. In front of them, on the window frame was a pigeon. And not even Mr. Pigeon, just one of those flying rats. It dawned on him that this was the reason for their odd behavior, and Gabriel snorted out a laugh at the ridiculous sight. Unfortunately, it startled the bird, and the stupid creature decided the safest plan of action would be to dive inside a cat lair.

Thirteen pairs of eyes followed the pigeon’s trail inside the dome; thirteen throats uttered a growl. Within seconds, the cats sprang into action, and all hell broke loose! The pigeon, sensing eminent danger, did the only sensible thing it could—it decided to hide in a nest. Only it wasn’t a nest, but the neatly trimmed hair of one Gabriel Agreste. The man yelped, the cats attacked. 

Gabriel went down under the onslaught, losing balance thanks to a vicious kitten which attacked his shoelace (as if it had anything to do with the pigeon taking refuge on his head). The bird apparently had enough brains to know when it was outnumbered, and finally flew outside, leaving the man and his cats in a disoriented heap of limbs, tails and claws. 

And then someone cleared their throat. 

Gabriel raised his eyes to the door. Everyone was there—the Dupain-Chengs, Adrien, Marinette, and Emilie. Tom and Sabine wore matching grins, while the kids were rather horrified. 

Emilie smoothed her dress and raised a brow—it meant an inevitable private conversation would soon follow. For now, however, his wife slid back into the perfect hostess routine. Well, almost.

‘And this, Sabine, used to be our sunroom, where my husband now keeps his hoard of cats,’ she said without batting an eyelash.

‘Awwww,’ Sabine coed, as Gabriel started the process of untangling himself from the said hoard by removing Dior from his jacket’s pocket.

Tom released a mischievous chuckle and stroked his mustache. He looked Gabriel straight in the eye and said, ‘I believe, dear Emilie, the proper name is a meowntain.’

The designer bristled at that; he had just been humiliated in front of his guests! His secret was out, but he saw a chance to save his face. He couldn’t allow for anyone to defeat him on his own turf!

‘I’ll have you know,’ he drawled, pulling himself up to his full height and brushing cat hairs from his clothes, ‘this is not a meowntain.’ He wrinkled his nose in disgust. 

‘This-, ‘ he proudly opened his hands and gestured to the feline paradise and his collection of pets, ‘-is haute cature.’

The adult sighed and rolled his eyes. "I can’t believe you call her that now."

"She’s mine and she’s a Lady after all," Adrien chuckled, taking her into his arms. He ran his fingers over her multi-colored black and reddish fur.

She slowly blinked at him, squinting her lime green eyes. The cheese aroma she had come to associate with the boy surrounded her, and she started purring her lungs out. He scratched her neck absentmindedly, revealing an elegant collar with a glittery name fixed in curvy letters.

Lady Noir, it read.

“Who’s the pretty kitty?" Adrien cooed with a smile. 

She tilted her head into his palm for more pets and enthusiastically kneaded his forearm. 

Gabriel pointed to the leather chair. Scratches marked its backrest in two parallel lines. In hindsight, not her smartest move, but she had been practising leaps and her aim still lacked precision.

"I thought I told you to trim her claws," the man scowled accusingly. 

Adrien rubbed his chin over Lady Noir’s head, right where the entirely dark left half met the reddish right half creating an illusion of a red and black mask that was split in the middle— the pattern that, according to the boy, had earned her the name. 

"It must have slipped my mind," he said.

Her ears twitched at a new sound. Was she the only one who could hear the snickers coming from Adrien’s shirt? 

xxx

Lady Noir hadn’t been used to luxury prior to being adopted. The Agreste mansion was definitely a place where a cat could spread her wings. Metaphorically of course. Cats do not have wings, although… among the inhabitants of the house, there was one that could fly regardless.

She wasn’t certain if Plagg really should be referred to as a cat, but he was the closest thing to the idea of a cat: the master of lazing about, with a knack for causing trouble; curious, gluttonous, cheeky and mischievous. In short, he was her idol, and guide to all things feline. Just like her, he had his own ways, but inside he was just a big softie with a heart of gold—or possibly cheese, as he basically inhaled the stuff in enormous quantities. Lady Noir tried his camembert thing once. The experience could be summed up in a single word: Yuck! Plagg was outraged when she took several baths to get rid of the foul smell afterwards.

Although Plagg’s interests seemed to be limited to dairy products, he never failed to remind Adrien to restock on her treats when asking for more camembert for himself. She could go through her stash of snacks almost as quickly as Plagg went through a block of cheddar. It wasn’t hard to do, considering she stayed in the boy’s room most of the time.

Lady Noir prided herself on being a very observant cat, and recognized immediately that Adrien needed her company the most. Besides, she knew she’d been brought into the house explicitly to become his cat. Which, in Feline, meant that the blond boy belonged to her now so she supposed it was her duty to meet his needs the way he’d been meeting hers.

He didn’t need much. Just a little bit of distraction when he was tiredly bending over his textbooks, or a kneading session when he was exhausted after one practise or another. Some nuzzles and nibbles to wake him up. Lady Noir also made sure to keep him company at night. Together with Plagg, they made sure no nightmare could reach him—purring was the key to their success.

She was the model of contentment, and only got miffed when they left her and went outside through the window. Adrien seemed to really enjoy those outings, when he put on a black suit that made him look a bit like a cat. Lady Noir loved to play with the long tail or swat at the golden bell, but those were rare occasions. Usually Plagg vanished somewhere when the boy changed into his black cat-like gear. He always left in a rush only to come back much later, tired but happy, and smelling like luck for some reason. The flying cat then appeared again as if nothing happened and demanded his cheese.

Lady Noir would gladly go out with them, were she invited. Unfortunately, there was little entertainment to be found in the huge empty house when Adrien left for school or his cat job. Boredom eventually drove her to explore it once she was done with the boy’s room.

xxx

It would have been nice to have company when Adrien was out, but Plagg always went where her boy did. His father became the next obvious choice, as the only other permanent resident. Unlike the boy, he didn’t smell of cheese, but of butterflies and passion fruit, which intrigued her to no end, as he never left the house and was rarely seen out of his room. 

They hadn’t started their acquaintance on friendly terms, which admittedly was partly her fault. She decided to make amends in a typically feline way—by bringing him offerings. And what better gift could a cat bring to a person who smelled of butterflies? The house was full of them if one knew where to look. And she was a very clever kitty. No butterfly could hide away from her for long. She caught them expertly and brought them to Gabriel’s desk whenever she could. He must have liked them, because they disappeared very quickly. 

xxx

And then one day when she came to his room with fresh prey in her mouth, there was a new smell around. It was damp, cold and heavy—metallic, with a hint of algae, old stone, and moss. A little bit of sniffing allowed her to find the hidden door and after some paw work she was able to push it enough for a slim cat to slip inside a dark corridor. 

Maybe she’d find some mice or rats in here? It was ages since she got any decent prey and maybe Gabriel would prefer a fresh, fat rat over those flimsy butterflies? She knew she would. 

But she found no rats as she explored, just another huge chamber, with faint light seeping through a ceiling window on the other end. It shone over a strange tall tube. Lady Noir knew tubes. There were plenty of them in the house in various sizes and they made for very nice scratching posts. Much better than those generic things from the pet shop. No self respecting cat would scratch those when they had a perfectly good tube, chair, or drape right under their noses. 

Lady Noir arched her back, wiggled her tail and reached for her newest scratching post. There was a metallic clank and the tube hummed softly. Then the upper part of it rose up revealing its contents.

She sniffed once, twice. The air smelled a bit like Adrien, minus the cheese overtones. She looked around and hopped onto the tube. There was a woman, tall and blonde, asleep inside. What a novel idea! This was the perfect place for a nap, sun beam and all. It looked like Lady Noir finally had found a nap buddy for her long days!

Up close she could tell there was something off with the woman’s scent. Something she couldn’t quite put her claw on that felt like weakness or illness. But Lady Noir wasn’t afraid; she prided herself on being an excellent feline doctor. After all, whenever Adrien was sick she stayed with him, drawing the bad vibes away. 

Happy with her newly discovered friend, she curled up on the woman’s belly and dozed off. 

xxx

Plagg wasn’t happy when he saw Lady Noir after her first basement nap. He hissed at her and grumbled something about dark magic. Admittedly she did feel rather strange, but she blamed it on the salmon pâte that must have been a bit on a stale side. However, the flying cat would have none of that. He dragged her into the upper level of Adrien’s room and licked her clean—she was definitely feeling out of it if he was allowed to do that. 

She did feel better afterwards, right up to the point when it turned out Plagg was no gentleman at all. He coughed a hairball right in front of her, the weirdest hairball she’d ever seen. Part of it consisted of her own hair and Plagg’s saliva, but there were also purple strings present: streaks of something Plagg called “bad energy" tangled with the rest of the hairball. He said it had ‘no place in our home’, so he put his paw to it and whispered something under his breath. The thing turned to ash with a quiet buzz. The room seemed brighter after that. 

Lady Noir thought that would be the end of it, but the sprite proceeded to talk her ears off about “bad energy", forbidding her to go near its source again. So of course the first thing she did when Adrien and Plagg left for school the next day was go back to her nap buddy. 

Every time the flying cat returned home to find her “feeling off", he would holler, lick and cleanse her fur, and then turn the “bad energy" into ash.

“I swear, Spots," he grumbled, stuffing himself with camembert to get rid of the bad taste, “I don’t know what you do to get all tangled in that mess."

She could only shrug to his complaints. After all, the napping lady was her secret and one did not betray their buddies.

xxx

Lady Noir kept going back to the basement, but since the only entrance led through Gabriel’s room, she had to sneak her way around him. Sometimes he would visit the sleeping woman, although most times he sat at his desk and worked, casting longing looks to the enormous painting that covered the whole wall from floor to ceiling. Lady Noir knew very little about art, but she thought the person in that painting looked a bit like what her nap buddy would have looked like, if she was younger and awake.

It usually took hours for Lady Noir to get an opportunity to sneak to the underground level of the mansion, so inevitably she started to keep the man company as well. He turned out to be as sad and lonely as his son, but he seemed more desperate and anxious than the boy. There was always an aura of deep grief and heartache around him. No self respecting cat would allow it. That’s how Lady Noir decided to include Gabriel in her daily routine. Between the sleeping lady and Adrien she still had plenty of time, which she could put to good use, if only the man would allow it.

Since the butterfly strategy hadn’t worked, she had to come up with a new plan to get his attention. Laying on his tablet seemed to annoy him. Stretching on his sketches irked him. Pushing his pencils off the desk usually got a growl out of him. 

A few times he grumbled under his breath, but Adrien wasn’t home to take her away. So after a while, the man accepted her presence; however, he moved her away from his things, which allowed for her to lounge on the unoccupied part of his desk. 

One day she must have dozed off, because when she woke up he was nowhere to be seen. Yet, as his scent lingered in the air, he couldn’t have actually left. Her nose led her to the painting and then to a spot on the floor. She thumped it with her paw and was rewarded with a deep echo as if the space below was empty. Another hidden passage?

She sat beside it and meowed experimentally.

There was a hollow clank, then part of the floor moved and revealed a smooth silver head with eyes hidden behind a mask. The man who appeared in the passage smelled like Gabriel but he didn’t look like him. He was wearing a single-color suit—not Gabriel’s usual clothes. He cast her an exasperated look and sighed deeply. 

“Stop it," he said and returned to the tunnel.

Of course she didn’t stop. As soon as the trap door closed behind him, she let out a wail of sorrow only a cat is capable of. 

“I’m serious. Cut it out!" Gabriel’s voice, albeit muffled, replied from under the floor.

“Meeeeooooooowrrrr," she lamented.

“Oh, for the love of—" 

The silver head emerged from the passage again. Cold blue eyes pierced her. The man’s lips, the only thing visible from under his silver mask, were pressed into a thin line.

“Meow?" She mewled tilting her head. Her tail curled attentively into a question mark.

“Fine," he rolled his eyes. “But you had better behave."

A dark glove caught her scruff, and the next thing she knew she was sliding through a tunnel in the man’s arms. 

There was a large chamber on the other end, similar to what she had found in the basement, but this place must have been somewhere high up, judging by the plethora of light from the round window. And there were butterflies. Every flat surface was covered in them. She had never seen so many before.

She wondered if she could catch a few for Gabriel, but the man raised a warning finger.

“Don’t even think about it," he said, depositing her on the ground.

He tapped his foot and the butterflies took flight. She halfheartedly swatted at them, but where was the challenge when there were so many? She lost interest in an instant and decided to explore the chamber, leaving the silver-headed man to his own devices.

He called her when he returned to the trap door; it was then that she discovered Plagg wasn’t the only flying creature in the house. The man murmured something under his breath and suddenly he was no longer wearing a silver mask or a strange suit. Gabriel stood in his place and a violet sprite hovered next to him.

“Nooroo," the man said, “This is Lady Noir, Adrien’s cat."

xxx

Nooroo was a good friend. He was appointed with the task of keeping her busy when Gabriel needed to focus on his work. She chased after the sprite, eliciting quiet chuckles from Adrien’s father, when he thought they couldn’t hear him. They played their own version of hide and seek, with the cat tracking the violet creature’s hideouts all over the room. He drew her away from Gabriel’s sketches and his tablet. In reward, he usually got a generous helping of passion fruit that the man kept hidden in his desk. After some time, she discovered that one of the drawers got filled with her favorite snacks so that, after a wild run over the room, she could feast alongside Nooroo. A few times she caught Gabriel gazing at them, while a shadow of a smile danced on his lips.

He kept disappearing into the tunnel, though. At first Lady Noir sat next to the trap door and meowed incessantly, but he rarely returned for her. Once, she spied that, before entering the passage, he pressed parts of the enormous painting. Oh! Well, cats could also press things when they felt like it. After a few days of practice and careful aiming,  she managed to figure out how to leap from the desk to land on the canvas in a way that would allow her to open the trap door.

She proudly strutted into his secret room. Emboldened by her trick, she viciously attacked his shoelaces to draw his attention away from the window and to cut off his monologuing. 

To say that Gabriel was surprised when she showed up in his chamber wouldn’t say half of it.  He yelped, and jumped half a meter in the air. Lady Noir was sure that if he had a tail, or any hair on that smooth silver head, it would have bristled like an angry hedgehog. 

The second time she followed him, she decided on a less threatening approach and just rubbed her head into his calves. Her purr of contentment echoed in the cavernous space, amplified by the dome.

After the third time she managed to sneak into the chamber Gabriel gave up and just took her with him, allowing her to lounge in the sun beam from the window, while he did whatever he came to do there. As far as she could tell it mostly consisted of talking, grumbling, hissing, gritting his teeth and stomping angrily. Sometimes waving a fist was involved. One name stuck in her memory, mostly because he mentioned it a lot.

Ladybug.

xxx

Funny thing, Adrien sometimes had a guest who used the window. A guest who smelled like luck—the faint scent the boy sometimes brought with him when he returned from his cat escapades. A guest whose name was Ladybug. 

What was even funnier was the fact that the girl visited him other times, under a different name, in a more regular outfit and used the door. Although she still smelled like luck, in this form she was referred to as Marinette, while another flying creature, a red bug, hid in her purse.

Lady Noir was a young cat and she hadn’t had much experience before she got to the mansion, but it seemed that every human she met was accompanied by a flying friend. She wondered why humans needed them?

It took a while before she discovered that Adrien had no idea that Marinette and Ladybug were the same person. She couldn’t believe it! She knew human senses were weaker than cats’, but the boy would have to be basically noseless not to recognize that scent. She tried everything a cat could think of to show him the error of his ways. She allowed the girl to pet her, hoping Adrien would recognize how familiar Maribug was with his cat and how she always stroked her in the exact same way. She brought the girl a figurine of Adrien in his cat form, wishing he’d understand that the scent he wore came from the girl. A few times, in an act of desperation, she even tried to drag Plagg out of his hiding spot under the sofa; but the sprite refused to show up, even though Marinette had her own bug who could have been Plagg’s sister.

Afterwards she received another one of Plagg’s lectures, but instead of scolding her for the upteenth time about getting the “bad energy" all over herself again, he ranted about how his existence must be kept secret from other humans. She really didn’t see the point, if every other person seemed to have a—what did he call himself? A kwamice. 

xxx

Ladybug in both of her forms seemed to be very fond of Adrien, which didn’t escape Lady Noir’s attention. It soon dawned on the cat that the boy’s feelings for the girl were also stronger than those for a “friend”, as he sometimes called Marinette. She made him happy, and it didn’t even take Lady Noir’s genius to see that. The cat figured a girlfriend—a romantic partner—was exactly what Adrien needed. She doubled her efforts at enlightening him about there being only one person who smelled of luck. Plagg only rolled his eyes at her antics.

“You might as well give up now, Spots," he told her. “I’ve been dropping hints much longer than you, and the kid isn’t really that dense. It’s just the magic of the Miraculous. It won’t allow for him to see that they are the same person unless she shows him herself."

Lady Noir refused to give up. In a typically stubborn feline fashion, she decided she would let Adrien know even if it was the last thing she would do. Painstakingly, she tracked down each and every item in Adrien’s possession that bore the girl’s scent. They were hidden all over his room. Carefully, she moved them to the little red figurine that looked like Ladybug— for good measure, she threw in some pictures Adrien had stacked in one of his trophies. She kept telling herself her plan had to work. After all it was consistent with what Plagg had said—“she” had to show him herself, and the various items he’d collected from her would show who she was. But, Lady Noir reasoned, no one said anything about what would be shown and by whom.

Finally the day came when her display was ready. The bracelet Adrien usually kept on himself was her last loot. The pink piece of paper he had hidden in his desk, the notes he sometimes browsed through, the blue scarf he liked so much—everything she could find was already there.

Satisfied with her work, she dragged Adrien to her collection, rubbing her head against his calves. 

“Really, Spots?" Plagg chuckled from his bin. “You needn't bother."

“Meow," she headbutted the Ladybug figurine. “Mrow," she grabbed the cat boy doll and move it closer. “Purrrr," she took the bracelet in her teeth and laid it on top. Then she sniffed the papers and the scarf ostensibly. 

Adrien gazed politely at her theatrics. He reached for the scarf. She sniffed again. Plagg cackled in the distance.

Sniff. Adrien took a deep breath smelling the scarf. Sniff-sniff, he sniffed the notes. Lady Noir put her nose to the cat boy figurine again.

“That scent…’ Adrien murmured. He closed his eyes, taking each and every item and reverently putting it to his nose. “That scent…" he echoed. The bracelet fell out of his hand. “She’s… that’s… it can’t be, can it?" he mumbled. “Plagg?"

The sprite flew out if his bin and looked over the scattered items and to Adrien. The boy’s eyes were blown wide, his lips opened as he stared at the Ladybug figurine.

“No way," the flying cat drawled. “You have got to be kidding me."

xxx 

After her success, Lady Noir could devote more time to Gabriel’s wellbeing. She decided to spend the day on his desk. She didn’t even notice when a finger started rubbing at the perfect spot between her ears. She cracked one lime green eye open. Adrien’s father was sketching, deep in thought, while absentmindedly scratching her head. His hand slipped under her chin and then moved to the side of her muzzle and to her back. 

Lady Noir purred, nuzzling into his palm. She put her paw over his wrist and clawed gently. Then she dared to nibble on his thumb.

Surprised, Gabriel whipped his head to her, his hand frozen mid-scratch. He stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. She slowly let go of his hand, but he just smiled. Emboldened she rose from the desk and strutted to him. 

“Who’s the pretty kitty?" he cooed lowering his head. 

She headbutted him without thinking twice.

“You are," he hummed, as she proceeded to rub her whiskered cheek against his chin. “You’re the prettiest kitty!"

Slowly, he reached for her and scooped her into his arms. His fingers slid into her fur, scratching and tending. The man’s jacket was quickly covered in a thick layer of additional hair, but he didn’t seem to mind, engrossed in the caress.

Nooroo’s head popped from behind Gabriel’s shoulder and he winked at her. 

“The prettiest, softest kitty," the man babbled. And for the first time his smile reached his eyes.

xxx

The next day she found a toy mouse on Gabriel’s desk in the spot she had claimed as her own. She also smelled a new brand of snacks somewhere near. 

Later, Adrien’s father didn’t go into his butterfly chamber, choosing to take Lady Noir to the sleeping woman instead. He held the cat the whole time, his fingers buried deep in her fur, as he gazed at the glass tube, commenting on how the woman’s skin seemed to have regained some color. Nooroo pursed his lips and cast an anxious look to the woman as if considering something. When they returned to Gabriel’s room, the sprite made sure the door to the passage stayed opened enough for an industrious paw to fit into the crack, making Lady Noir’s visit to her nap buddy much easier.

That day Plagg wasn’t happy. Nor on the days after that. Not even when she brought him the toy mouse.

xxx

Lady Noir quickly got used to Gabriel petting her while he was working. It was now easier to sneak out for a basement nap as the man took on a habit of having lunch with Adrien when he returned home during the day—sometimes in Marinette’s company. Usually Nooroo came with a heads up when the meal was nearing its end, so that she could leave the sleeping lady and return to her spot on the desk. Gabriel couldn’t design without her, claiming she was his new inspiration. And he definitely was on a designing spree these past few days. According to Nooroo this was the first such successful spree since the sprite arrived at the mansion. However, that day Nooroo didn’t come. 

Lady Noir woke up to a finger rubbing behind her ear and another gently stroking her back. The touch wasn’t familiar. 

“Who’s the pretty kitty?" A feminine voice whispered, hoarse and scratchy, as if it hadn’t been used in a while.  

Intrigued, Lady Noir risked a peek at the person petting her. Bright, green eyes looked back at her with kindness and confusion. Eyes so similar to the ones she saw in the painting in Gabriel’s room, so similar to Adrien’s eyes. The sleeping lady had woken up after all those long days and delightful naps! Lady Noir purred in contentment. Another pair of hands to pet her was good news.

Her nap buddy hummed, letting her fingers wander over the cat’s back. “Mmmmm, this is so nice."

Lady Noir couldn’t agree more. All that was missing now was—

A thud sounded in the spacious chamber. Gabriel stood at the entrance, the bouquet he brought scattered on the floor.

“Emilie?" He rasped. “You’re… you… how do you feel?" In just three steps he was at the woman’s side. To Lady Noir’s indignation he took away one of the hands caressing the cat’s back and pressed it to his lips; a single tear rolled down his cheek.

“Well rested," Emilie sighed, her lips stretched in a soft smile. She sniffed experimentally. “And surprisingly not allergic to cats anymore."

Lady Noir’s ears twitched. Nooroo giggled somewhere nearby. Upstairs, a door opened and closed. She heard the faint echo of Adrien and Marinette’s steps as they ran to his room, laughing. Gabriel still held Emilie’s hand, but his breathing sounded shaky. The cat yawned looking between two humans, who stared at each other as if this was their first meeting in a long time. She stood up and squeezed herself between them just in case they’d forgotten she was there as well. A tail in Gabriel’s face and a gentle rub of her head to Emilie’s chin should do the trick. 

“Meowr,” she chirped.

Gabriel chuckled, even though his voice seemed tight. “Who’s the clever kitty?” he cooed scratching behind her ear.

Lady Noir sat attentively, her tail lashing behind her. She definitely was the cleverest kitty. She purred, pleased with herself and the fact that her nap buddy would now be able to pet her as well. Something told her that she would not be the only one getting the much needed attention and affection from Emilie. Just one look to the woman’s smiling face and Gabriel was already putty in her hands. 

There was love here, and where there was love, there was happiness. She could feel it in Gabriel’s heartbeat, she could see it in Emilie’s blush. The aura of grief and melancholy was slowly melting away, replaced with tentative hope and the promise of a happier tomorrow. Things were definitely going to be better around here, and that was perfectly fine with her.

 The End