Check Mate

Chapter 19

Marinette shifted in her seat, trying to search through her notes to find the right combination of chemicals for the lab they were doing.

She couldn't even remember what the goal of the lab was because the feeling of eyes burning a hole into the side of her head was enough to scatter her thoughts to the wind.

She reached out to grab a vial of... something, preparing to pour it into the beaker of liquid chemicals that was sitting over a Bunsen burner, eyes following her every movement.

She snapped and lowered her voice, "Will you stop staring? It's freaking me out!" She hissed at Claude, who had been staring at her like she'd grown horns for three days now.

Three days!

"Right! Sorry Nettie. It's just.. you're... you know. You. It's insane! How do you expect me to just accept that?" He whispered back, his voice barely containing the much needed freak out that he was dying to have with someone now that the shock had worn off.

"This is exactly why I wanted to wait till spring break to tell you guys. But nooooo, you just had to lecture me about sleep for the thirty millionth time when I had something far more important to do." She snipped, dumping the vial carelessly into the beaker. She'd been freaked out by his freaking out all week and it was effectively freaking out the rest of the group who didn't understand why they were freaking out, when it was very simply and straightforward.

He was freaked out, which was freaking her out.

A lot of freaking out was going on.

Which is why she wanted to wait and save all this freaking out for spring break!

She could only hope the people Chat had told were taking it better than Claude was.

"Oh, I am ever so sorry for being a good friend and worrying about your health." He retorted hotly, crossing his arms and scowling at her, "How was I supposed to know why you seemingly refuse to sleep?"

She turned away from the beaker, which had begun to start turning a strange shade of orange, not that she noticed, and grabbed the dry ice with the tongs and put it in the beaker while Claude grabbed the sodium.

"You weren't supposed to know until spring break! My god, you're just as bad as Allan!" She huffed stubbornly, glaring at him through her goggles.

He let out a strange strangled sound of outrage, dropping the sodium he held, "You take that back!"

"Make me. Go on, try it. I dare you. See how well that turns out for you." She taunted with a smug smirk on her face, knowing that he knew he didn't stand a chance.

"Why you little- wait is it supposed to be doing that?" Their argument was forgotten when she turned her attention to the beaker that was bubbling , bits of dry ice bobbing in it and hissing at the contact with the warm liquid, spilling curtains of orange fog over the edges.

They both leaned in to look at it, and she tilted her head curiously, "I don't know, did you add the sodium yet?"

"No, but that doesn't explain the color." Claude sassed back as he dropped the sodium into the beaker.

She was about to snap back, saying she didn't know how to explain it either, but the decently sized beaker exploded.

They were both coughing, waving their arms to dispel the thick orange fog around them, their goggles had thankfully kept their eyes safe from harm, even though they were splattered with orange stickiness.

Once the smoke cleared up and saw Claude, she snickered, feeling smug. "Nice face. Orange suits you."

He glared at her, their orange chemical disaster sticking to his face, hair, and lab coat. The glare quickly morphed into amusement, "I can't say the same for you. Orange is not your color."