Cats Don't Dance

[mistkitt]

Originally Posted: 08/01/16

~*~

Ladybug stood on the roof of a building, bathed in the light of the moon. “I’ve got a bad boy and that’s alright with me,” she sang to herself. Down below, an entire wedding party filled the street, dancing in sync, their faces pulled back into terrified smiles. “His dirty laundry is nothing that I can’t keep clean…” She heard the scrape of steel-toed boots against ceramic tiles. “And when he needs an alibi, he can use me all night…” A warm pair of lips pressed into her neck. “Ooh, what a surprise, chaton!”

“Please, like I could ever surprise you,” Adrien murmured into her shoulder. “What’s going on down there?”

“Our akuma victim is a disgruntled choreographer. Didn’t you notice half the city dancing on your way here?”

“I thought everyone was just in a really good mood.”

Ladybug turned to face him. He wore his typical leather jacket, ripped jeans, biker gloves, and steel-toed boots. Hidden somewhere in that jacket was the staff he’d special ordered for saving the day alongside her. She slipped her hands into it to leech some of his body heat. “I need a distraction,” she said. “Will you be my lucky charm?”

“Aren’t I always?” Adrien fixed her with a goofy smile.

She rolled her eyes and pushed him away from her. “Get down there. And be careful.”

“As you wish, My Lady.” He kissed her hand before heading off to the fire escape. Ladybug turned back to watch the scene unfold. 

She worried about Adrien. That much hadn’t changed in the two years they’d been working together. He had all the recklessness of a teenager who thought he’d never get hurt, but none of the superpowers. She wished she could laugh off the close calls like he did. She wished she could share his unrelenting faith that she would never let him down.

But she was only human underneath the mask.

“You there,” the akuma victim cried, “why are you off beat?”

Ladybug followed his pointing finger. Adrien had planted himself in the crowd and started mimicking the other dances, but of course he couldn’t keep up with their frenetic pace. He stopped dancing and ran a sheepish hand through his hair. “Sorry, looks like I practiced the wrong song!” he said, then dove out of the way of a suspicious purple beam. The akuma victim pointed a cane at him and fired another beam, missing by a hair.  

Showtime. Ladybug swung off the roof and snatched the cane out of the choreographer’s hand. One twist of her wrists snapped the cane in two. She caught the telltale purple butterfly in her compact, waited for the purifying light to fade, then let it go.

The wedding party stopped dancing with grateful sighs. The choreographer fell to his knees, warped akuma costume fading away and leaving behind a very confused middle-aged man.

Ladybug made sure everyone was okay—and declined to stay and have some champagne—before she excused herself from the scene. She found Adrien waiting for her in a nearby alley, leaning on his motorcycle. “I had no idea you were such a terrible dancer,” she said.

“Didn’t you hear? Cats don’t dance.” Adrien wrapped his arms around her waist. “Up for patrol?”

Ladybug sighed. “My roommate will probably want to talk about this akuma attack in detail. She’ll be suspicious if I’m not home.” His disappointed whine made her laugh. “Tomorrow,” she promised. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him, effectively wiping the frown off his face.

“I don’t suppose I can drive you home?” Adrien said against her lips.

Ladybug pulled back and tapped his nose. “Nope.” She ducked out of his arms and ran off giggling into the night. “Get some sleep, hot stuff!”