Chapter Text
Sipping a portion of cognac hidden in a black water bottle, Marinette sighed. An impatient breath followed it. The blazing summer sun relentlessly simmered the air; wearing black jeans, a t-shirt, and a cap did not help keep sweat from beading on her neck. She observed the countless tourists go by from beneath her umbrella-shaded table.
That was the one good thing about the Clark Hot Dog–otherwise, the food was average to her fifteen-year-old self. Taking a bite of her mustard-bombed lunch, the relish relished in a swirl of her throat. Her foot tapped anxiously as another illegal swig of alcohol followed.
The faint sizzling of nearby asphalt drowned underneath the busy sounds of car engines and pedestrian chatter. Munching on her meal with one hand, the other leaning on the grated metal, she slowly scanned the crowds. After many more tense minutes, the dark sheen of a pair of sunglasses glaring back finally caught her eye.
Marinette readjusted her own pair of them. A familiar heaping of bark-colored hair, wearing the same outfit as Marinette minus the fingerless black gloves, strode up and plopped next to her. Casually, she extracted the wrapped food Marinette had saved for her from the bag on the table.
“Took you long enough, you popinjay.” Marinette slugged the girl’s shoulder hard.
She rolled her eyes, and then spoke after swallowing a bite. “Says the one with the ego.”
“Fine, fine.” Marinette held up her hands in surrender. “Does my perpetually-late Lila still adore me?”
Lila delivered a quick hot-dog-tasting peck to Marinette’s lips. “Happy?”
“Ye–”
A loud, slurping sip of soda interrupted her. “Sorry, you were saying?”
“I hate you as much as I love you.” Marinette smiled minutely.
Lila readjusted her contact lenses. “Which is why we’re still doing this. Correct?”
“Mmhm.” The bluenette toyed with her pigtails. “Midnight?”
“When thou’s slender form slips betwixt the shadows?” Lila set her meal down to boop her girlfriend’s nose.
Marinette blushed furiously. “Especially then.”
“Your designs are ready, nothing unexpected?” Lila lowered her voice to a hush.
A growl erupted from her throat, her teeth clenched. “It’s much sleeker than the designs of an old-fashioned mongrel.”
“His designs and namings are always just the WORST!” The bluenette shouted mid-bite, hands splayed.
Her girlfriend blurred the lines between angry thoughts and encapsulated the cuteness. “Well, until then, how about we enjoy ourselves?”
“Or,” Marinette shot her a glare, “We stick to preparing, and then we are allowed the privilege of self-indulgence. Remember our teachings.”
Lila’s brown eyes, hidden behind her contacts, lit in fury as she nodded in silent agreement. No further statements were needed. Any witnesses or recollections of them being here, if any, did not need further context. They finished their American-style meals in relative peace for the next few minutes.
The weight of the world seemed to press upon them. They fought for everyone’s right to a normal life. More often than not, it felt ironic. To fight as avians, but chained from flight. For Marinette, the last of the cognac helped relieve the stress. She hadn’t planned that, but she did have the skills to successfully improvise.
As if she’d jinxed it into being, a tremendous explosion of white light and sound blasted in the distance. Barely seconds later, the usual flash of a spotted red bug and jet-black cat whizzed over while everyone fled to shelter. Lila looked at Marinette, who yawned in faux boredom–the obvious aggravated magic abuse was calling their rescue services into action.
Hastily, the two finished up, threw their trash away, and bundled to a nearby alley. If all went well, this would be the last akuma–despite the superheroes’ inevitable objections. They’d been slacking on their duties, and it was far past time that irritating Fu returned the box.
“You just had to call it this time, didn’t you?”
“It’s not my fault karma is out to inconvenience me for wanting free time with you!”
Once they were well hidden, they summoned their power.
“Zishu, talons forth!”
The Miraculous of the Western Jackdaw flashed cyan, enveloping Marinette in dark gray spandex with feathery stripes of dark blue from toe to top. Long, broad wings stroked her arms and back as a cape. Beneath the hood of her mask, her hair flowing out, she smirked.
“Raava, beak pierce!”
The Miraculous of the Rook shone brown over Lila. A black-blue skin-tight blazer, accompanied by ankle-cuffed leggings, shone iridescent as though it were covered in feathers. Her hair was displayed proudly in a crest. A svelte, sandy domino mask disguised the upper part of her face.
Cracking her neck, she ran off with her partner hot on her heels.
One way or another, no matter how, they’d stop this nonsense at last.