The Algorithm

Chapter seventeen - The Noir Twins

She set a log on the fireplace and let the heat press against her back as she sat opposite to it, the faint scent of wood smoke filled the room before the soot and smog was sucked into the fan and released into the open air of the pine forest overhead. The buzzing fan would help disguise the smoke and keep attention away from the hidden base. But against the flickering flame and whirring fan, she heard faint footsteps in the distance.

She assumed it was just the janitors doing their night shifts, they had seen her resting at the bar some night but never paid her any notice. She was an adult and her being at the bar was none of their business so they kept their noses out of it. As the footsteps grew closer, Marinette noticed it was missing the accompanying sound of squeaky wheels as the janitors pushed their carts of cleaning supplies.

She grew suspicious, no one else was ever awake this late. Her mind raced with the possibility of an intruder but her fears were put to rest when she soon saw a blonde pass by. He stopped and stared at her, eyeing the glass in her hand.

"Relax blondie," She said, immediately realizing his suspicion. "It's just tea." He seemed relieved by her answer but still uneasy. The dark clear liquid resembled rum and it didn't help that the only cup Marinette was able to find was a textured whiskey glass.

Adrien walked over to the fireplace, accepting the warmth that came from the burning embers. "What are you doing up this late? And what are you doing at the bar?" He asked her, still not entirely convinced by her previous answer. Marinette knew he would never let it go unless she answered his questions, as futile as they may be.

"Couldn't sleep, and I like it here." She stated. She loved the way the twisting fire would cast shadows on the reflective bottles that sat on the shelves, causing light to dance in the decorated glass. Some of the bottles were green, blue, brown, or purple making colors spin around the walls. The flickering flame and quiet fan also did a great deal to drown out the silence with its crackling and spinning blades.

"And why can't you sleep?" He asked in a gentle tone but Marinette still got the feeling she was being interrogated.

"I think the better question," She began turning on her stool to face him. "What are you doing up this late?" Adrien didn't seem fazed by the tables to be turned like this.

"I sometimes walk around when I can't sleep." He answered truthfully.

"Why can't you sleep?" Marinette questioned. He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, assessing her behavior. She didn't seem intoxicated but maybe he had caught her while she was still working on her first few drinks, just before the alcohol clouded her mind.

"I just can't stop thinking about that mission." He finally said, his head dropping as he crouched beside the fire, watching the flames dance on the burning oak log.

"You were shot," Marinette stated. "It's only been a few weeks, it will take some time to move on from something like that." He shook his head.

"It's not that. I watched one of the women who went with you die... Is it always like that?" Adrien asked, turning his head away from the flickering embers to look her in the eye. Marinette traced her finger around the rim of her glass.

"Sometimes." She answered.

"Do you ever get used to it?" He asked.

Marinette knew what he wanted to hear but it wasn't the truth so she decided to put it delicately. "Not really," She stated. "Your instincts become sharper and it makes it easier to focus on the task at hand. You kind of block out everything else that isn't important." Adrien seemed disappointed in her answer but knew she was being honest about it.