Chapter One – Penny for Your Thoughts

Becoming the guardian and losing Master Fu took more of a toll on Marinette then she was willing to admit. Suddenly, it was as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Or at least the weight of Paris' and the kwamis' existence.

Just dealing with being the guardian would be hard enough, but ever since Bunnix had taken her to defeat Cat Blanc, she'd been having recurring nightmares almost every night, all of which ended with either Ladybug or Marinette (sometimes she had to fight him as her civilian self, in which case rather than screaming 'Marinette', he'd be screaming 'Ladybug' instead) watching Cat Blanc destroy the entire universe, and ultimately the two of them.

The only good thing is that she always wakes up just as he yells 'Cataclysm'.

Then there's the fact that she's grieving the loss of Master Fu; her mentor and friend. He may not have been her actual grandfather, but there were many times when she felt the title fit him perfectly. And she failed him. She failed him so, so badly.

She knows it's her fault he's gone. She's the one who let Tikki go to the miracle box to try and figure out where Nooroo is, making Hawk Moth aware that there's a guardian of the kwamis', and the general location of where he is (. . . was). She's the reason why Marianne Lenoir was akumatised, which led to Hawk Moth knowing Master Fu's alias. She's the reason Hawk Moth was able to steal the miracle box from Master Fu, because she didn't detransform when she went to see him, which just fucked everything up.

No matter what Tikki or Wayzz or any of the other kwamis or Cat Noir says, it is her fault. Who else's fault could it possibly be?

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Marinette jumps and accidentally slashes a line across her page with her pen, essentially crossing out her physics homework. Ugh, if only it was that easy to make it disappear, she says to herself, turning her desk chair around to regard the superhero currently lounging on her chaise. She doesn't quite know why – he claims it to be his wanting to be her friend, and his 'kitty senses' telling him that she's been lonelier as of late – but he's been stopping by a couple of nights a week for the past month or so, either simply to have a five minute conversation, or to do what he's doing now.

"You don't need a penny for them: physics is shit."

He raises an eyebrow at her, lips twitching in an effort not to grin. "You don't usually swear, princess."

She rolls her eyes and turns back to her homework. "You don't really know me." She says it as a mutter, but she knows he'll be able to hear it with his advanced hearing.

"I'm offended!" He exclaims, and she closes her eyes and focuses on her breathing so she doesn't yell at him. Or start crying. Sometimes, that cat–boy is just too infuriating. "I'd like to think I know you very well." He sneaks up behind her, invading her personal space. She senses more than feels his presence hovering over her shoulder. "Especially after all this time together."

She opens her eyes and turns in her seat to look up at him. He grins cockily. "Trust me," She says, smiling ruefully. "You don't know me very well."

She turns back to her homework and picks up her pen again, scribbling out the formula she started to write before her mind drifted off. I don't even know me very well, she says to herself, rewriting the formula and hoping it kickstarts her brain into helping her figure out the answer. Sadly, it does nothing of the sort.

"I know plenty about you!" Cat goes on, his voice becoming even more cheerful. She wonders what Master Fu would think of her chasing the tomcat out of her room with a broom. He leans back against her desk and crosses his arms. He raises a finger, the sharp claw glinting slightly due to the light coming from her desk lamp. "I know you like to design," Another finger goes up. "I know that you can bake." A third finger. "I know . . ." He trails off and the self–assured smirk slips off his face.

She almost smiles when she realises he's stuck. "Anyone who knows anything about me knows those two things."

His gaze flicks back to hers and he drops his hand, letting it rest on the edge of her desk next to his thigh. He bites his lip. "I . . . I know that you've been sadder lately." He says quietly. She huffs out a sigh and doodles a random flower on the corner of her paper. "I know that you haven't been hanging out with your friends as much, and that you've stopped designing so much–"

"Are you stalking me?" She means to say it with more anger, but it comes out dull and quiet. Emotionless; like she doesn't actually care.

"Of course not." He says quickly, reaching out as if to put a hand on her shoulder or her arm, but he hesitates and scratches the back of his neck instead. "I–I mean . . . kinda?" He bites his lip and tries to read he expression, but she just stares despondently at her flower doodle, doing her best to ignore his gaze. He clears his throat. "I'm your knight in shining leather; I'm just looking out for my princess." He smiles smugly, but when she finally meets his gaze, she sees there's more worry in his eyes than anything else.

"There's looking out and there's stalking." She tells him, but she softens it with a rare genuine smile.

His eyes light up and he leans towards her, anchoring his hands on the back of her chair, on either side of her head. He smirks. "That's what a stalker would say, purrincess."

She gives him a deadpanned look and pushes him away from her with a finger to his forehead. The action reminds him of Ladybug, but he pushes the thought away. "Why are you stalking me?"

He makes a face and takes the pen from her. "Let's not say 'stalking'." His eyes flick to hers before going back to the paper where he's started drawing a stick figure with a tail and triangle ears (it's probably a cat, but Cat can't draw to save his life). "Let's say I was simply . . . being your superhero Godcat."

She raises an eyebrow. "Godcat?"

"Well, I can't very well be your godmother or godfather; I'm much to young, and I'm not a woman." He smirks at her.

"And you're not a fairy?"

She smiles slightly and he feels his heart swell. Yes! I made her smile. One point to Cat! "Unfortunately not." He stands up and does an exaggerated model pose – the kind Chloé does. "Don't you think I could pull it off, though?"

She exhales through her nose, and although it's not quite a laugh, he'll take it. "You're a dork."

He grins and holds the pen out to her. She takes it from him. "I know."

She turns back to her homework and glares at the problem for another minute, still not sure if she's even using the correct formula or not. She sighs and shakes her head, deciding to just go with it. If she gets it wrong, she gets it wrong. Hell, it won't be the first time. She aware of Cat hovering over her shoulder and she can't help but tense up a little, only relaxing when he finally moves away to flop back onto her chaise.

She works her way through the rest of the problems, even managing to (maybe, possibly) get one (almost?) correct. Maybe. Leaning back in her chair, she rubs her eyes, managing to draw a little on her face with her still–open pen, before packing her school bag for the following day. Going off her track record, she'll wake up early, but be unable to actually get out of bed until her mother calls her down to breakfast, saying she'll be late otherwise.

"Okay Kitty, I have to . . ." She trails off and smiles to herself, gazing fondly at the sight of her partner curled into a ball on her chaise, fast asleep.

She shakes her head slightly and looks up at her bed. Tikki and Wayzz smile down at her, although Tikki's eyes are a little worried; she's not exactly a fan of Marinette allowing Cat Noir to come into her room in case he discovers something he shouldn't. Like the phonograph sitting – rather obviously – on her desk. Wayzz nudges his arm against Tikki's and, when she looks at him, he smiles as if to say 'don't worry'. She sighs and smiles kindly, before dragging him out of sight so Cat Noir won't see them when he climbs through the skylight.

"Cat?" Marinette asks, shaking his shoulder gently. He whines and curls into a tighter ball. She rolls her eyes fondly. "Kitty? You have to wake up."

"Don' wanna." He grumbles, voice thick with sleep.

"Well, you gotta." She runs her fingers lightly over his cheek, tickling him, and he swats at her blindly.

"No."

She sighs and sits on the edge of her chaise, letting her hand rest on his knee. She taps it insistently and hums one of Jagged Stone's songs loudly. He blinks his eyes open and frowns at her.

"You're annoying."

She shrugs and continues to hum until she gets to the end of the song, when she ceases both her humming and tapping. "You can't sleep here."

Cat grumbles something incoherently and pushes himself up so he's sitting. "What time is it?"

"About midnight."

His eyes widen and he gapes at her, before he pulls his staff from his back to check the time on there. 11:52. Shit. "Woops." He grins at her and stands up, stretching the rest of the sleep out of his body. "As much as this cat likes to pretend he's nocturnal, he has school tomorrow." He sweeps into a low bow and grabs her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it quickly before she can pull it from his grasp. "Sweet dreams, purrincess."

"Night, Cat."

He flashes her one more grin before bounding up the stairs and through the skylight. She shakes her head fondly and smiles to herself. It fades, however, when her eyes land on the phonograph and she sighs, the weight of the world settling on her shoulders, pushing her down, down, down until her head hits the chaise cushion.