Don't make this about us

They’d known each other for more than five thousand years. First it had been onions, then fermented fish heads, and now Camembert. He could always be counted on to turn up for a pungent snack. And sure enough...

“Tikki, you’re a saint!” A little black spirit, no bigger than she was, appeared next to her seemingly out of thin air. “Oh la la, this is an excellent variety, wherever did you come across it?” Tiny paws reached greedily for the tidbit of cheese in the tin.

“Ah ah.” Tikki snapped the tin shut. “Plagg. We have business first.”

Plagg bared a pair of needle-thin fangs, and his glowing eyes narrowed. “I should have known this wasn’t a social call. But very well.” He settled himself daintily on a fountain spire. “Good evening, Tikki. It’s been… too long.”