Baby, It's Cold Outside

[vanchinini]

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Fandom: Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Félix Fathom
Characters: Félix Fathom, Juleka Couffaine, Luka Couffaine, Rose Lavillant
Summary: Félix could only imagine the headlines. Son of Lady Graham de Vanily swept away from the streets of Paris in broad daylight by a mad degenerate. Suspect appears to have dyed blue hair, an ancient pair of converses and a bundle of blankets used to trap his clueless victims.

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Not once did Félix recall his two ball pythons—with whom he shared the healthiest relationship he's ever had—wrapping around him like a delectable branch. Caine and Able were perceptive enough to differentiate the frozen corpse of a mouse from a creature resembling a human being. Apparently, Luka Couffaine was, too, but chose not to.

Félix counted fifteen minutes with his eyes closed before deciding to stare at the ceiling, a surface lined with planks as colorful as a macaw's plumage. A single stripe of blue paint stood out in the corner of his eye, the only bare spot on a wall covered top to bottom in framed posters and shirts, half of them marked with authentic signatures. Félix's lip twitched at the sight of an abnormality. Patti Smith leaned five degrees to the right. If someone hadn't rendered him immobile, he thought, he would've fixed it.

Félix wiggled in place. The stiffness under his back confirmed it— he'd been swept away from his bougie café by the Agreste Mansion, left on the Liberty, laid down on Luka's mattress and wrapped up in three tight layers of blankets.

He had to give Luka credit where it was due, his cotton cocoon was impenetrable. Félix's limbs were glued to his body. He evolved to the status of a human worm. All he needed was food and a habitat, and the Liberty could introduce a ticket booth at the gangplank. Here ye, here ye, the unearthed earthly being the likes of which you've never seen.

Ms. Anarka would sink her teeth into the opportunity without question.

"Welcome back, leech."

Félix rolled his body to the side. Peaking from her crevice of magazines and shoe boxes was Juleka. She was just thin enough to fit inside the drawer under her bed and send him a fish-eyed look. Félix was happy to reciprocate.

"I’d like to speak to my lawyer," he said. "If now is the time you chose to enact retribution, I have complaints— and suggestions."

"Save it. None of this has anything to do with me."

Juleka's eyes skittishly zipped to the hollow doorway and back. She didn't have to lower her voice any more than she already had, but she had. The distance between Luka's and Juleka's sides of the room was too big, and her murmurs faded quickly.

"What?" he hissed.

"I said," she hissed back. "It’s Luka. He’s losing his marbles again."

Félix pursed his lips. 'Losing his marbles' was an inadequate explanation. Luka lost his marbles over Rose accidentally cracking the glass over his Sex Pistols print. Last week, Luka lost his marbles over a baby-smooth violin body that soared from the router table across the workshop and slammed into a saw because he didn't hold it tight enough. He screamed like he was dying. By the time Félix burst in, he was down on his knees, cradling the body and whimpering "mon bébé," like a reenactment of the Pietà. It earned him a good, hard smack to the back of his head. If it could, Félix's Amok would've exploded from worry.

There are varying degrees of Luka losing his marbles, skewed as it may be. Blankets had nothing to do with it.

"How, exactly?" 

"Remember his superhero stint? That." Juleka stuck an arm out to sweep her long curtain of hair off her back. "The jewelry superheroes use don’t come with warning labels. They just put them on and don’t ask questions. Luka’s thingamajig was a Snake, so some of the snakiness—"

"Ophidian traits.”

"Gesundheit. Some of it stuck, and it won’t unstuck. It’s been months since the last time he got exposed. Every time it gets chilly— not even cold, chilly— he’s acting like everyone is at risk of dying from hypothermia."

"Technically, you are." Félix clipped in, unperturbed. The situation wasn’t dire enough to warrant concern. Juleka trapsing around on deck in sandals during winter was. 

Juleka rolled her eyes. "Beside the point. He doesn't eat, barely drinks, thinks we're living in the North Pole, and now we're his victims."

No drinking or sleeping. Now, there was a cause for concern. 

A wayward creak drew his and Juleka’s attention. The low whine of a misstep on a plank Félix recalled was in the dining area. A thump; an object falling to the ground, no, pushed to the ground. Rushed footsteps ghosted the ship, following the hurried swishes of something dragging itself across the floor.

A signal wasn't necessary. Félix understood they had to keep quiet.

"It could be brumation," he pondered, more to himself. "The description fits. If his metabolism is still functioning as it should, it would be astounding. The body can only last so long without water. I wonder if the Snake Miraculous' magic clings to him—"

"My brother is not an experiment."

"It is a theory," he quipped in the same intonation of 'You people are all buzzkills.' Any experiments he conducted followed at least five out of seven principles of ethical research (the missing two were a sham, anyway) with consent always and entirely included. He had the Ping-Pong Incident to refer to. Luka's instincts were consensually tested, and confirmed with a mild bump to the forehead. No harm done. Never.

Félix rotated back, then lifted his torso. He had to crawl across the bed worm-style. If he gets close enough to the edge, he might be able to peer into the doorway or even escape. He could come to Luka himself and strike him with his knowledge of the Dark Arts by surprise, as his sister would have it.

"Juleka!"

A scream. Thumps followed Rose’s cry, as if she were shadowed by the yeti and not a teenager.

Did Luka turn part-reptile?

The sounds were beginning to make sense. Rose's blonde head flew in, her face squished against the planks as she dragged herself like a determined caterpillar. She was wrapped up in the same way Félix was.

"Hide," she squealed. "Hide!"

Juleka's eyes went wide. Her head disappeared into the drawer just before the stomping of bare heels reached their compromised haven. Rose slumped down with a squeak. Her body slid backwards, pulled by an invisible force. Her shrill scream burst out like a car siren, then faded away.

That was definitely a cause for concern. He’d seen enough.

When the coast was clear, Juleka popped out, scowling. "I don't care what it is," she fumed. "You have to work your magic before he gets me, too. Use your evil hexes, or something."

"It’s called the art of persuasion.” Although, the ring of ‘evil hexes’ was growing on him very quickly.

They didn't have enough time left to plan. Félix immediately heard the march of a cold-blooded creature armed with blankets. If someone had to wrangle the menagerie, he might as well put his talents to good use. Luka stepped inside, and found nothing but Félix and an empty room.

"My savior has arrived," Félix wheedled, catching his attention.

From the position of a human worm, Luka stood rather imposingly at one meter and eighty. He bent over to look him in the eyes, his face needlessly grave.

Lowly, as seriously as he could manage, he asked him, "Are you warm?"

"Pardon?"

Luka scanned him, although Félix could barely tell with how heavily lidded his eyes were. "I should get more. You need more."

"No!" Félix protested. He cleared his throat. "No. I have enough."

A stare swept over him. Then, his partner lowered himself to the floor to rest his head on the edge of the bed. A wistful sigh blew out of his broad, exhausted body.

"Why are they all running?" he lamented. "I’m trying to get everyone ready before Christmas."

Christmas? What in the world was he— "Don’t tell me this was a misguided attempt at avoiding the naughty list."

"Don’t have to. I’m already Santa's favorite." Luka's head straightened, his chin resting on the sheets. "He likes me so much, he said he was going to get me a 'very special carton of milk, and it would take him a very long time', but he’s doing it just for me." He'd done a portion of his speech in a stereotypical, bloated voice of a commercialized Santa Clause with a hand puppet, then gave up halfway. His entire being ached to drip away like a melting icicle.

"He had you with the oldest trick in the book. Poor thing," Félix told him sympathetically. He'd flick him on the temple if his hands weren't stuck. "I heard you weren't eating."

"I forgot."

"And how will you maintain that astonishing frame, hm? Muscles don't grow on trees."

Luka snorted. "I heard you got spares."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Come over here and find out."

At his command, Luka’s body flopped down on the bed with a bounce. He grabbed the edge of his own blanket and started rotating in place, efficiently rolling himself up like a sushi roll. By the end of his maneuver, his face was covered halfway. It also drew him closer to Félix, so they laid on his small bed facing each other, nearly pressed nose-to-nose. They were close enough for Félix to see the faded smear of his wiped eyeliner.

"Better?" he whispered.

Luka exhaled, his breath tickling Félix’s cheek. His eyes fluttered an inch open, dreary and dark. He nodded, and in doing so, bumped their heads together.

Félix drew back, hiding his reddened face in his cocoon. "Why don't you stay here?"

"Gotta get to Jule," Luka mumbled. "She'll freeze to death. It's so cold."

Somewhere over his shoulder, his sister paused her crawl. She was close enough to touch the door frame. 

"Juleka will be fine on her own," Félix reasoned. London was worse, so lower temperatures didn't bother him, but he could pretend for the greater good. "My temperature regulation is terrible. If you leave for a moment, I might die."

"No, you won't."

"Yes, I will. Would you truly leave me here to freeze my toes off while you chase your sister?"

Luka hummed, presented with a conundrum that took up too much of his weakened brain power to form words. "Maybe. No."

Mission accomplished. Juleka’s feet went through the doorway.

Félix exhaled. He’ll remind her she owed him some other time. "Then, do your job."

His answer was a low, "Mm-hm," that melted somewhere under all the cotton. All that was left were Luka’s long, dyed bangs, and his big, stupid, flushed nose. That, too, was something Caine and Able didn't have.

Félix stretched his neck forward to brush his lips over his hair. Convincing Luka to eat was a different mission reserved for a different time. At the moment, he had a viper to keep warm.