#kittyfic

When Madeline returns to the apartment soaked to the bone but smiling deviously, Edgar knew something was awry.

“Maddie!” he chirps excitedly. “Why are you all wet?”

Madeline balks for a second, as if the question had stumped her. Good! Edgar thinks proudly. I’m the smartest one in this apartment, and everyone now knows it!

When she finally composes herself, she huddles over to Edgar secretively. To his dismay, drops of water spatter onto the desk he is perched on, but Madeline is careful enough to make sure no water drops touch Edgar himself. “I’ve got a little secret to keep between you and me--for now, that is,” she whispers.

“Oh! I love secrets!” Edgar exclaims. “Especially when they’re kept from Moles.”

Madeline makes a shushing gesture to him. “We can’t let Miles know about this until it’s too late to back out. This is happening whether he wants it or not.”

“Correct,” he affirms. “We beat him two-to-one.”

“That’s right,” Madeline agrees with a mischievous smile. “Do you want to see it?” She moves to reach under her coat.

Edgar grows flustered. Is she really about to--? “Oh,” he says flatly.

She doesn’t do what he expects her to. She fetches a little wrapped-up blanket from her side. It wriggles feebly in her hands.

“You found a baby?!” He’s in disbelief. This is uncalled for. Unnecessary. Madeline and Moles are supposed to pay attention to him, not some loud and messy child. “Maddie, I don’t like that.”

“It’s not a human baby,” she quickly corrects him, “so calm down. It’s a different species of baby, I guess.”

Edgar is still wary. Anything that would distract his two favorite people from himself is competition. “What is it?”

Madeline unfolds the blanket carefully, revealing two triangle-shaped ears. “That’s not a human baby,” he parrots her earlier comment. If it’s not a baby-baby, then what is it? What could it possibly be?

She folds down more of the blanket. Now, he can see glistening blue eyes, a tiny nose, and whiskers. Black fur is plastered to its skin from being in the rain, but ruffled in areas where Maddie had obviously tried to dry it off.

“Oh.” Edgar blurts before catching on. “Ohh,” he says after. “A cat baby?”

“They’re called kittens. But yes, this is a baby cat.”

“Our baby cat?” Edgar presses excitedly.

“For now, only you and I can know about it. Miles doesn’t need to find out until later. Again, keep this quiet and between us. Got it?”

“Affirmative,” he says in a stern voice, mimicking someone of higher power.

“Excellent!” Maddie cheers loudly before catching herself. When Moles’ footsteps approach, she quickly tucks the bundled-up kitten back under her coat and wraps her arms around herself tightly, giving the impression that she was freezing cold.

“Madeline?” Moles pokes his head into the room around the door jamb. “Welcome back,” he greets warmly, stepping into the room. “Where have you been?”

She darts her eyes away from his. “At the store,” she offers weakly.

Moles starts to frown. “Getting what? We still have plenty of groceries. Did we need something I wasn’t aware of?”

“Important things, Moles,” Edgar emphasizes. “You wouldn’t understand.”

The man gives the computer monitor an annoyed glare. “Uh huh. Still, you should take that coat off,” Moles says, turning to Madeline. “ It’s soaking wet and it’s only gonna make you colder. Here,” he reaches an arm out toward her. “Let me take it?”

“Oh! I--uh, I have dry clothes out in the car. I must have forgotten them.” She backs away towards the door. “I’ll be right back while I fetch them.”

Moles looks confused. “But--”

Madeline shares a frantic look with Edgar. Immediately, he comes up with a distraction.

“Moles!” he yells. A pixelated image of a cat sits on his screen. “What is a cat?”

“‘A cat’?” Moles repeats, confused. “Well, it’s, ah--they can be pets. They can also be wild, too. There are different sizes.”

While Moles rambles, Madeline winks to Edgar and slips into the backroom.

“What does a cat sound like?”

“They--hey, look it up for yourself,” Moles grumbles. “You have the whole Internet at your disclosure.” He turns to follow Madeline.

“Moles!” he yells again. “You can’t go in there.”

“And why not?”

“Because I said so,” Edgar says stubbornly. 

“Since when do I take orders from you?” Moles turns back to him, hands on his hips. 

Edgar pauses. “Since right now.” Boy, is he good at this or what?

“Hm.” Moles frowns. “I don’t think so.” Again, he turns to follow Madeline.

Quickly, Edgar fidgets with the digital locks on the front door. When Moles tries to open it, it clunks in place. He hears Moles sigh. “Edgar.”

“Yes, Moles?”

“Unlock the door.”

“I can’t.”

“Unlock the door, please.”

“It’s broken.” He senses Madeline sneaking around to the back door of the apartment. “I don’t know who broke it.”

Moles walks back into the room and gives the computer a bland, flat stare. “I have an idea who did.” He goes to rummage through the drawers of the desk for a key.

By now, Madeline’s snuck inside. He covers up the click of the back door closing by unlocking the front door. “Oh,” Edgar feigns surprise. “It’s fixed! You should go try it, Moles.”

Moles glares at him angrily, but it’s a look Edgar has seen many times before. It holds no real bite. If anything, the glare means Moles is resigning to do something else because Edgar’s got him so worked up.

Another point for Edgar.

As Moles stomps his way back to his studio, Edgar can tell Madeline’s made it to the cleaning room. She works quickly, peeling off her soaked coat before grabbing a towel and ruffling the little cat dry. Maddie leaves it in the cleaning room while she slinks out to hang her coat on the rack. The door doesn’t quite shut all the way, and Edgar hopes the kitten is smart enough to stay inside the room.

Madeline is caught mid-way to the coat rack by Moles. “Madeline?” he asks, confused. “What’s going on?” He’s trying to use his Stern Voice, but Moles can never sound truly stern and frustrated, so the attempt fails.

“Miles!” Maddie gasps.

“Mew!” says the kitten, now in the hallway.

“What?” Moles says. “Who--?”

“Miles, I can explain,” Maddie is already urgently putting herself between her befuddled partner and the kitten.

“Mrow,” Edgar says before she can finish. “See, Moles, it was just me practicing sounds. Nothing to worry about. I was pretty convincing, though, wasn’t I?”

Moles looks truly lost. “I thought I heard something from the hall,” he manages to stutter out, trying to peer over Maddie’s shoulder. “What in the world is going on with you two?”

The kitten mews again.

Edgar tries to copy the sound loudly, cutting it off.

“Am I hearing a cat?” Moles wonders out loud.

“Yes, you are,” Maddie blocks his view of the hall. “Edgar has been practicing his sounds, as he said.”

“Why does it feel like you two are hiding something from me?” Moles laments. “We’re partners. We aren’t supposed to hide things from each other.”

“W-we aren’t hiding anything from you, dear Miles,” Madeline assures in a sweet voice. “Moreso of…hiding you from it.” She smiles.

“I’m hiding something,” Edgar says proudly. “You’ll never know what it is.”

“Mrew!” says the kitten, now wandering between Madeline’s ankles. 

Moles’ face screws up for a second. “Is that--?”

“It may be,” Madeline interrupts. “I can explain.”

“Uh oh,” Edgar mutters lowly.

“My lovely Madeline and Edgar,” Moles says after taking a deep breath, “I ask once again: what are you hiding from me?”

Edgar sees the little black kitten teeter out into Moles’ studio while the three of them stumble over words. 

“You…found a kitten,” Moles says, surprised.

“Yes, I did,” Madeline pointedly says. “And before you say anything, I’m going to at least give it some food and water before taking it to the shelter.”

Edgar’s mood dampens. He thought Maddie would want to keep the kitten. He assumes it’s cute, judging by the way Moles’ face softens as he watches it waddle around. He desperately wants it to stay. “It’s not staying with us?”

“‘Staying’?” Moles repeats. “You think I’d let an animal from the streets stay in my apartment?”

Maddie is quiet. Edgar doesn’t like it; it’s the kind of quiet where something bad is expected to happen. He shows a >:( on his screen.

“Let me finish, Edgar,” Moles says, holding a hang out to him in the ‘just a second’ gesture. “You found it wandering?”

“Yes,” Maddie says firmly. “No other cats, be it kittens or potential mothers, were near it.” She watches as the kitten focuses on playing with one of the cords that connect Edgar to his hardware. Maddie moves to shoo it away.

While it feels strange, the kitten is either too little or too polite to actually do any harm to his wiring. “It’s alright, Maddie,” he cuts her off before she reaches it. “It’s not hurting me.”

“So, I see. I’ve been teamed-up on,” Moles says after a pause. “You two thought you’d hide it from me, didn’t you?” While his words sound accusing, Moles is smiling at his two partners.

“We weren’t going to keep it hidden from you--” Maddie starts.

“I was,” Edgar says matter-of-factly. 

“--it’s just such a little thing. I couldn’t leave it, you know how I am.” Madeline brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Miles, I understand if you don’t want to keep it here, but let’s at least give it one good night of sleeping somewhere warm and safe, okay?”

“Why are you so hellbent that I’m not going to let it stay?” Moles quips.

Maddie’s face immediately lights up. “You mean--?”

“Of course,” Moles laughs. “Once we make sure it doesn’t belong to anyone and get it vetted up, we can keep it.”

Madeline launches at Moles and gives him a big hug. “Oh, thank you! I didn’t think you’d want another trouble-maker around, you know?”

Adrien's first best friend is Chloé Bourgeois. She's the daughter of an promising government official then too, and he's still struggling with the reality of his mother's disappearance. They meet while their fathers are visiting, and with his back against the heavy double doors of his father's study, he steals glances at the girl sitting in the plush chair at the end of the hallway.

She marches over and demands to know why he's staring, and after he says he likes her hairpins she gives them to him, claiming she was only wearing them because her nanny put them in. They are red bobbypins with ladybugs on the ends, and Adrien keeps them both in his desk drawer.

She's kind, with her blue eyes and yellow sundresses. She talks about going to a public school after every week of homeschooling, and Adrien ponders the idea in between quiet dinners with his father and sessions with his private tutor.

The years pass, and she drags him from one place to the next by the hand or wrist or even by the front of his shirt. He follows, and they both age together, as Adrien's eyes darken and Chloé collects bad habits like tally marks.

The last place he follows her to is his new school. Seeing her around others sours his view of her, and as much as he struggles to cling to the girl he knew, she slips out of his fingers like sand. She finds Sabrina, and he finds Nino, and time starts to fly.

His first broken bone is from a fall as Chat Noir, and it's nothing more than a broken wrist. Catlike reflexes aren't always foolhardy, and breaking a fall from the top of a streetlamp can result in a few shattered joints.

Nathalie drives him to the hospital, and with his head against the window, Adrien listens to his father's tired voice over the car intercom.

His first kiss is another model named Lana. She's beautiful, light brown hair with blond streaks and wide, moss green eyes, but she doesn't mean a thing to him after the photoshoot. He regrets that kiss more than anything, but several other models follow her, and by the third he stops touching his lips afterward.

His first fight with his father is sparks and dangerously low voices. His fencing tournament is the next day, but a meeting in Tokyo is beckoning, and if there's one thing Adrien knows about his father, it's that meetings take priority over him.

Photoshoots, interviews, drafting sessions, runway shows, and parties also take priority, but he's known that for a long time too.

He asks why. Why was he so insignificant among everything else? Why was he pushed and prodded and kicked when nothing he did mattered anyway? His father gives him the answers, but they cut and sting more than Adrien anticipates.

Money and power are the priority. You'll understand someday.

But he doesn't. He doesn't understand and he knows he never will.  

He loses a little bit of himself during that argument, and at the top of the stairs, Gabriel Agreste is hard faced and unimpressed. He always is. By the end Adrien is biting back more harsh words and tears, and Nathalie guides him back to his room. He expects her to chew him out, reprimand him, embarrass him in ways his father cannot, but she's quiet the entire walk there.

She drops a small, short kiss against his hairline before she takes her leave, and as he watches her go, he blinks and lets the tears mark hot trails down his cheeks.

His first love is Ladybug.

She's everything he wants to be, brave and witty and confident. She warms up to him slowly, and by the end of their first year working together, they've worked their way up to winks and harmless flirting. It's all jokes and quips to her, but to him it's everything. She's the cool water on his face at the end of the day and the warm embrace of a pillow, only in the form of a person.

On their one year anniversary of being partners, she hugs him tight and holds him there, fingers weaving into his mop of blond hair. He's almost taken aback- she'd never been so open with contact before and here she was, initiating it-but he hugs back anyway, holding her close and setting his chin atop her head. She smells like freshly baked bread and flowery soap.

He falls asleep that night with his arm over his eyes, and tries for hours to conjure the feeling of her fingers in his hair again.

His second love is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, but she feels just as real and achingly familiar as the first.

At first it's a flimsy, faraway love. Dreamy and unsubstantial like gossamer, but he watches her idly and the love turns into spiderwebs, catching him and stringing him up every waking moment he sees her.

He loves every stitch on her dresses and every absentminded design she throws away.

On one occasion, she accidentally leaves one on her desk, and Adrien swipes it as he passes. He gets a glimpse of it as he rushes to give it back, and for the rest of the day, her blush and the graphite lines of the dress greet him every time he shuts his eyes.  

She's wearing the dress the next day, and from he and Nino's table outside, he watches her showcase it to Rose and Alya. The circle skirt folds and flutters as she twirls for them, and Adrien feel his chest tighten. His heartbeat thrums a frantic rhythm against his ribcage, and after a hasty retreat, he spends the rest of lunch trying to calm his pulse behind the music room.

He knows he's in love with two different girls, but something winds them up and sews them together in the back of his mind.

The first time he kisses a girl on his own behalf, he's terrified.

He's almost lost her, his partner, and with shaking hands, he grips her upper arms and buries his masked face into her shoulder. She hugs him back, slipping her arms underneath his, and laughs weakly into his chest, reminding him she was fine.

He knows that, she's tangible and warm and alive under his hands, but the few moments of terror had kickstarted his heart into a terrible doubletime, and he can't seem to coax it back down. Chat can't find it in himself to pull away for a few long moments, but when he does, he hovers over her, studying her eyes until he can find words to give her.

It comes out more as a plea than a question, and it slips from his lips quietly, lingering in their air between them.

Can I kiss you?

The flicker of shock that colors her face is gone quickly, and she nods once, a slight, almost indistinguishable bob of her head. If he's getting this because she wants it or because she pities him, he doesn't know, but he's the alleycat, and he takes what he can get.

His hands don't move from her upper arms as he leans in, and although it's just a brush of his lips against hers, it heats his face and sends tingles down to his fingertips. When he pulls away he can see she's flushed too, but the satisfaction doesn't stick as well as he'd like. He wants to do it again. He wants to hold her face and card his fingers through her hair, and he wants to litter her face with kisses. He wants to do it right.

He doesn't though, and he lets his hands slip back down to his sides as he moves back. His breath is gone, and he can't seem to find it in himself to start breathing again until her eyes flicker open. She blinks slowly, as if taking it all in, and Chat feels his stomach do somersaults.

She touches his hand as she brings out her yo-yo, and he mumbles his parting words to her in a hushed exhale. Ladybug smiles at him, brilliant behind her flush, and even after she's gone, the exchange buzzes in his head like an angry hornet.

I love you.

I know. 

Dylan's head whipped around just in time for the dish rag to wrap around his face and earning a scream. Dylan absently but patiently paused the game and pulled the rag off of his face to see Levi standing in the kitchen with her arms crossed over her chest, looking at him expectantly.

"Wha?" Dylan asked nervous that he had missed something important. Levi sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose before pulling the last of the French toast off the griddle. 

"Dyl Pickle," she started again, "I'm in a pickle." Dylan frowned as she made him a plate of French toast and bacon and walked over to plop down beside him on the couch. She absently handed him the plate, looking at the television screen as the game stood stark still in the very large rectangle. Both Tyler and Dylan were successful and popular actors now, so their apartment was full of nice things. Levi didn't have much but she contributed to bills and the like and was close with Dylan, and Tyler by this point, so they loved having her as much as she loved having them.

Dylan tore a bite out of his French toast and looked at Levi as he munched on his mouthful of bread.

"What kind of pickle." he asked and Levi crinkled her nose as she looked at him, licking his lips and his cheeks all puffed out.

"Okay, ew," she said gesturing to his expression, "Don't- don't talk with your mouth full, you'll choke, die, and then I have to wear a dress to your funeral."

Dylan gave her a confused look to which she rolled her blue eyes and informed him, "I promised you I'd wear a dress to prom and to your funeral, no more, no less."

"You didn't go to prom," Dylan reminded and Levi shrugged her shoulders.

"Tony broke up with me that week and you were taking Sarah so I- I just didn't feel like going," she gave her head a violent shake, "Besides the point! I'm in a pickle!" Dylan nodded and continued eating but only after her gestured for Levi to continue. "So there's this guy," she started and Dylan stopped everything, he's pretty sure even his heart stopped for a split second at those words. He looked at Levi with a serious expression.

Dating was hard for Levi and she rarely showed interest in men, besides her precious Captain America and some teasing days Stiles, so whatever she was about to say had to be important. He nodded for her to go on and gave her his full attention.

"But I kind of really can't stand him," she added and Dylan barely supressed the sigh of relief that threatened to escape. He hated the idea of Levi dating, he wasn't sure why, he just didn't think anyone was worthy of her. No one was good enough for her or would treat her the way he wanted her to be treated. No one knew her like he did.

"So what's the pickle?"

"He asked me out, but get this, we all got pizza at his place because it was D&D day and he looks at me, the pizza on my plate and then, as fearful as he can, 'Should you be eating this?'" She made a face and held a hand up like she was waiting for the Gods to supply her an answer. Dylan snorted. "Like what the hell, dude? You want in my pants but only if they're a size five?" she asked in annoyance and Dylan took another bite of his French toast.

"So, what'd you do?" he asked and she didn't scold him for talking with a mouth full that time, instead she winced and hissed slightly, avoiding his eye as she nodded side to side. 

"I kicked him in the shin." Dylan looked at her a moment and then laughed, eyes twinkling and mouth wide open as he tilted his head back and really laughed. "Not funny Dyl, that was Anna's brother! I'm not allowed over anymore!" she added smiling though at hearing Dylan's contagious laugh. Dylan laughed harder, picturing little Anna giving Levi the boot because she kicked Ana's brother in the shin for being a dick. He could just picture the 5'2'' young woman shoving 5'8'' Levi out the door and locking it behind her. 

Levi smacked Dylan's chest as he laughed and she stole the plate from his lap which instantly earned his attention.

"You're going to be a dick, you don't get food," she tease sticking her tongue out and heading back to the kitchen.

I want to remember things like that, instead of him weak on that hospital bed as his life slipped away. I don't want to remember the drugs or the chemo, or seeing his hair fall out and his eyes, so bright when around me, grow dull. I don't want to remember that. Nor do I want to remember coming into his hospital room that day to visit him, and finding a hoard of doctors crowded around his bed while his brother held his hand and cried like a baby. I'd never seen Al cry before that day. Not once. I forced myself to go to the funeral and nearly killed myself with grief. I don't want to remember the months afterward, spent in in self imposed isolation. A haze of tears and half-waking and self loathing. I didn't eat, I barely slept. Nothing seemed to matter to me anymore. Life, which had once been so bright for me, held nothing anymore. Alfred and my parents tried to reason with me, tried to get me to come out of the Hell I'd made, but I didn't listen. I went to his grave almost religiously, every week at the exact same time. I'd still talk to him, half hoping he'd answer me. He never did. Of course that's only to be expected. 

I hadn't looked in the mirror for weeks by that point. I hadn't properly seen myself for a really long time. When I washed my face, I finally got a look at myself. I almost couldn't believe it. I was staring at a ghost. The dull and tired eyes, the aloof expression. It was too much. I quickly turned away from mirror, tears pricking at my eyes.