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When Chloé is nine years old, Emilie Agreste, the mother of Chloé’s best friend, Adrien, falls ill. Chloé visits the Agrestes with gifts from her Daddy and Mommy, baskets full of Emilie's favorite treats, homemade get-well-soon cards Chloé spends hours making, that sort of thing. Chloé even gets to chat with Emilie for a few minutes each time before Mister Gabriel, auntie Emilie's husband and Adrien's father, escorts her out of the woman's room, a firm yet gentle hand on Chloé's back.
Chloé does her best to cheer Adrien up, telling him all about her school because Adrien is homeschooled. She tells him about her wonderful classmates, her kind teachers, and even some assignments that aren't all that boring. She thinks it helps. He always asks her to stay longer.
When Auntie Emilie's condition worsens, Chloé's Daddy finally allows Chloé to stay some nights. Adrien sleeps better when he is curled up against Chloé and being embraced by her. Even better if she lightly scratches his scalp and hums.
When Chloé is eleven years old, she speaks with Emilie one last time. The woman holds her hand, opaque green eyes that once were a vibrant green lock with Chloé's sky-blue eyes, and a thin smile grows on the dying woman's lips. Chloé wants to run away but she stays.
“Could you do me a favor, sweet child?”
Chloé nods.
“Anything, Auntie.”
Emilie's smile grows the tiniest of bits.
“Take care of my baby, mh? I know you care about him… Please never stop. Please.”
Chloé's chest hurts. Tears swell up in her eyes. She blinks rapidly, trying to make them scarce. She nods.
“I promise,” she sniffs. “I'll never stop.”
“Thank you,” Emilie exhales, squeezing Chloé's small hand. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Three weeks later, Chloé attends Emilie Agreste's funeral. Adrien is inconsolable. Chloé holds him close while he bawls his eyes out, all while silently crying as well.
That's the last time she hears him speak out loud for years to come.
At age thirteen, Chloé begs her father to help her convince Gabriel Agreste to allow Adrien to attend Lycée François Dupont.
At age fourteen, Chloé calmly explains the benefits that Adrien attending the same school as her would bring to the table, and André Bourgeois finally agrees.
A week and a half after Adrien starts attending Francois Dupont, along with Chloé, during a trip to visit the Louvre, two supervillains wreak havoc in Paris for the first time.
In her pursuit to find her best friend, Chloé is nearly crushed by a flying car.
“You!” One of the supervillains, a guy whose voice sounds distorted, who is dressed in all black leather with wild green hair, violet eyes, and a tail, scolds her while carrying her. “Does your life mean so little to you?!”
“My friend!” Chloé pleads, trying and failing to free herself from the supervillain's strong hold. “I need to find him!”
For a split second, Chloé can swear she sees guilt in the supervillain's eyes. The second passes, however, and all she sees in the supervillain's purple eyes is contempt. It would have shaken Chloé if she weren't so used to it by the one man she's lived with her whole life, every time she's made a mistake.
“Screw your friend!” He hisses, yet he stops in front of an alley where he lets Chloé go. “And don't even think of going back there! She won't hesitate to hurt you or anyone who stands in her way!”
Stupidly, Chloé grabs the supervillain's tail before he goes away.
“My friend!” She insists stubbornly. She doesn't care what happens to her. If need be, her father can and will make another her, but Adrien… “I will help you with whatever you are trying to do, but please make sure nothing bad happens to him!” Still holding the tail with one hand, Chloé hurries to get a hold of her student I.D. and shows it to the supervillain. “S-See? I'm a Bourgeois! I'm the mayor's daughter! I can be of help, I'm sure!”
He stares at her.
“Does that friend of yours mean so much that you would willingly help me?”
“Yes!”
He frowns. Chloé holds her breath.
“What if I asked you to kill someone? Would you do it?”
“I would!” Chloé assures, dread and hope mixing inside of her chest in a tight, disgusting knot. “Anything!”
“For some guy?”
Chloé sucks in a breath.
“He's my best friend,” Chloé says, enraged by the implication Adrien could ever be just 'some guy.' “I promised someone special I would protect him.”
He opens his mouth right when a swarm of white butterflies passes above their heads.
“Damnit!” He growls and shoves his tail back from Chloé's grip. “Forget it, princess!”
“No! Wait!” But it is too late. He's gone.
As fast as she can, Chloé runs back to the Louvre, where she finds Mrs Bustier, her classmates, and, most importantly, Adrien, safe and sound.
Chloé hugs him and refuses to let go.
“Shadow Bug and Claw Noir,” Chloé reads out loud, alone in her room.
The articles are everywhere. Blurry photos and videos of the supervillains and a taller figure dressed in soft purple and white, a fight, and the same swarm of white butterflies she got to see hours prior.
“Claw Noir,” Chloé repeats, zooming in on the less awful photo she finds of him and frowns. “I won't forgive you. Neither of you.”
The incoming weeks post-attack are exhausting. As the daughter of the mayor, Chloé has the duty of inspiring the youth, meaning, she does not stop moving from building to building checking the reparations, and thanking the workers for their hard labor; she organizes small (they never do end up being small) gatherings with the available kids and their parents to help put their minds at ease about the oh-so-scary supervillains that have come out of nowhere and nobody knows what they want or when would they appear again; she barely has time to sleep, making sure her homework is properly taken care of… But that's okay. It's what she was made for, after all. Listen, plan, do. Help. Assist. Project an image of perfection, no matter what it takes. What are a few fewer hours of sleep compared to the well-being of the citizens of Paris? After all, she owes them all that she owns -no, she owns nothing. Of course not. She is not really a person. Never has been, never would be.- She owes the people of Paris everything she is blessed enough to be, for now. They chose her father–her maker– as the mayor. A lot of them follow her mother, Audrey, in her journeys around the world, clothing the less fortunate, so busy she barely has the time of day to text -let alone call- Chloé. Yes, yes, everything is okay. Of course, it's okay. How could it not be okay?
“Huh? What do you mean your father won't send you to school anymore?” Gobsmacked, Chloé shakes her head. “Why…? They haven't appeared again! And even if they did… The police… The police and that superhero will handle them!”
Adrien stares at her. He has that look in his eyes that says: “You know that is not true.”
Chloé’s hands close in tight fists at either side of her body. She knows he's right. The superhero hasn't appeared again either. But… But…!
“I'll ride with you,” she proposes. “If we go to school together, your security will triple down. I told you I've met Claw Noir, remember?” Adrien nods. “There you go! He definitely didn't like me, but he told me loud and clear that as long as we didn't cross him or Shady Bug, no harm would come upon us! It's as easy as that!”
Adrien sighs. Chloé bites the inside of her cheek. The left one. The right one already hurts. She doesn't need to break the skin and bleed again. She hates the taste of blood –if she can call it blood in the first place.
“Right… Easy is not the right word. But you get what I'm saying! I'm sure your father will listen…” she trails off, her lower lip trembles, but she recovers quickly, forcing a small smile. “Don't you worry, Adrikins. Lycée or no lycée, I'm always here for you. Always will be. Wanna cuddle?”
Adrien nods. Grinning, Chloé extends her arms, ready to hug her best friend with all her might.
Somehow, she manages to convince Gabriel Agreste. Adrien can't seem to believe her at first, and, honestly, neither does Chloé, but she has succeeded. Just like it has always meant to be. She thanks her father silently and holds Adrien’s hand tightly on their joined way to school.
Shadybug and Claw Noir attack a second time three days later. Chloé watches the clouds of smoke rise in the distance from her spot at the front row of her class and stands up in a hurry.
“I'm going to look for Adrien!” She shouts, running out of the classroom to the bathroom. ”And Nino!”
She only finds Nino, who looks more upset than scared.
“I don't know where he is, but he surely is a jerk! Why are you friends with him, anyway?”
“What do you mean you don't know where he is?! You two came to the bathroom together, didn't you?!”
Nino huffs and explains that yes, they did, and that he tried to be friendly and struck up a conversation about his favorite movie, stretching an invitation to which Adrien had ignored him, as if he wasn't there at all before walking out of the bathroom, never looking back.
Before Chloé can say anything else, Sabrina catches up to them, linking her arms to theirs and dragging them back to the classroom as per the drills that Chloé herself had encouraged the day after the first attack.
Mrs Bustier goes pale at the lack of two of her students: Adrien and Marinette.
“I'll go look for them!” Chloé volunteers.
“I'll go with her!” Alya seconds.
An explosion that sounds a lot closer and makes the ground shake violently has Mrs Bustier shaking her head vehemently.
The second Chloé watches the swarm of white butterflies in the sky, she frees herself from Sabrina's and Juleka's grip and runs towards the door once again. She opens it, finding a tired-looking Adrien that she hugs and doesn't let go until Gabriel Agreste himself stands in front of her.
The man's kind eyes make something deep inside Chloé tremble with guilt.
Reluctantly, she lets Adrien go, but Adrien doesn't. He strengthens his hold around Chloé and buries his face in the crook of her neck.
“He… isn't ready,” Chloé mumbles. Gabriel nods. She wants to say “Leave it to me,” but she has lost him twice already.
Maybe it would be for the best for him to stay at home, after all.
Useless, a voice inside her mind that sounds like a mix of her parents' chastises her.
Chloé hugs Adrien once more, crumpling the expensive fabric of his jacket with the force of her grip.
That Friday, it becomes official. Adrien sends her a text announcing he will not go back to Francois Dupont until Shadybug and Claw Noir no longer pose a threat to Paris as a whole.
Frustrated, Chloé asks her father for permission to go for a run. Once it is granted to her, she changes into her sports clothes and leaves the Grand Paris Hotel, her cell phone abandoned on her nightstand next to the yellow teddy bear Adrien gifted her the next day her mother left for New York, Mister Cuddly.
Chloé remembers she never answered Adrien's message right as she finishes her fourth lap around the park. Sweat drips from her forehead down her cheeks and pools in her chin, drops falling to the grass as she walks towards the bench where her personal towel and water bottle await her.
“My, my,” a distorted voice Chloé has only heard once before, says at her back. “The daughter of the mayor all alone? While the two number-one public enemies are still on the loose? Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
“What do you want?” Chloé asks, turning slowly on her heels. “If you changed your mind, then I'm very sorry to inform you it was a one-time deal and you blew it. No second chances.”
Claw Noir studies her. He plays with his baton, shifting it from one hand to the other.
“The way you're talking to me is pissing me off.” He squints at her. “Stop it.”
Chloé barks out a laugh.
“No, I won't! You are the one who came to interrupt me. Why should I be nice to you? You're a bad guy!”
Claw Noir shrugs.
“A bad guy that saved your life, don't you forget it, princess.”
Chloé rolls her eyes.
“I didn't ask you to save me. Perhaps I would thank you if you hadn't refused to help me look for my friend!”
Claw Noir clicks his tongue.
“Again with the friend thing! Just ask him to date you so he can reject you, and you can stop pretending you truly care about him!”
“What are you talking about?!” Chloé screeches, horrified. “I do care about him! He's my best friend! I would never ask him to date me. Don't you have friends?” Suddenly, she gasps. “Wait… Is that the reason you are doing all of this…? You pretended to be someone's friend with ulterior motives, and when they rejected you, you became evil?!”
“Of course not!” Unexpectedly, Claw Noir is right in front of Chloé, leaning way too close, so much so that their noses almost bump. “What kind of stupid reason is that?! I want to bring someone back from…!” Widening his violet eyes, Claw Noir takes several steps back, blushing furiously.
Chloé blinks, a hand on her chest atop her beating heart.
“I… I-I'm sor-” Claw Noir shakes his head. “Forget it! You heard nothing!”
Suddenly, Chloé’s legs give in, causing Claw Noir to jump like a cat, green hair standing on point.
“A…Are you okay…?”
Chloé shakes her head. She grits her teeth, takes a deep breath, and looks directly into Claw Noir's eyes.
“Come here, rascal.”
“Rascal?” Claw Noir gasps, offended.
“Just come here, please!”
Frowning, Claw Noir approaches Chloé again, slowly and carefully.
The moment he reaches for her, she takes his hand and yanks him closer. Not with enough force to get him to fall alongside her, but with enough force to have him crouch down so their faces are once again inches apart.
“Hey!” Claw Noir complains but Chloé goes one step further, holding his face between her hands and staring intently at his eyes. “H-Hey…”
“Who?” whispers Chloé.
“Who what?” Claw Noir gulps.
“Who do you want to bring back?”
Claw Noir freezes. Panicked, he pushes Chloé away, but she refuses to let him go.
“Release me!”
“Answer me first!”
“Why should I?!”
“Because…!”
Chloé's answer is cut off by the sound of police sirens approaching.
“Damnit!” Claw Noir curses. In a quick move, he holds Chloé by the waist with one arm while activating his baton with his free hand.
They land safely on top of the closest rooftop, yet Claw Noir takes a moment before letting Chloé go to lean closer to her ear and whisper.
“Careful. Next time you might not be so lucky, princess.”
Chloé takes a couple of steps back, a hand covering her ear and frowns at him.
“Don't call me that.”
Grinning, Claw Noir winks at her.
“Don't count on it, princess!”
And he is gone, leaving Chloé to figure out how to climb down the roof safely on her own.
The second she sets foot in the Grand Paris Hotel, she gets grounded. Her father scolds her for minutes on end, accusing her of putting in danger his incoming re-election with ‘theatrical nonsense’ and ‘bland attempts of rebellion ’. It's insulting and blatantly untrue. The one mistake she made was forgetting her cell phone in her room, and even that was not premeditated.
“I should just find a replacement,” André sighs tiredly.
Chloé's whole body reacts by tensing up, her mind clouding with panic.
“I'm sorry,” she says, bowing her head. “I'm deeply ashamed of my actions, Father. Please. I'll do better. You know I can do better.”
Please don't get rid of me. Please don't replace me. Please.
André hums. Chloé flinches when a heavy hand lands atop her head.
“You're right, Chloé. You can do better, and you will.” The hand goes away. Chloé takes a deep breath. “You're still grounded until I say otherwise. Go to your room. No dinner for you.”
It lasts a month. There are three other attacks while Chloé rots away in her bedroom, but at least she knows Adrien is safe between the walls of his mansion.
As soon as she's free to go outside again, her first stop is the Agreste mansion.
“Adrikins!” She hugs her best friend the moment he opens the door of his bedroom. When she sees his face, however, her smile falters. “What's happened to you? You're using makeup…” before she can touch his face, Adrien steps away. “Ah! I'm sorry!”
Adrien shakes his head, smiling lightly at her. It doesn't feel quite right, but Chloé thinks she's already pushed too much.
“Oh! That's a nice ring!” She gushes. Taking her heart-shaped glasses, she wiggles them in the air. “Trade you?”
Adrien fake-ponders before shaking his head.
“Awww! But it's so pretty! I promise I'll be careful!”
Adrien shakes his head again.
“Pretty pleeeeease?”
A third no.
“Oh, well. I tried.” Laughing, Chloé walks past Adrien towards his bed. “Come here. It's time to re-paint your nails~.”
During the seventh attack, Chloé just so happens to be at the right place at the wrong time. She's giving away free food, the two heavy bodyguards appointed to her by her Father on their first fifteen-minute break a few blocks away chatting idly, when the ground starts to shake and, suddenly, the wall furthest from Chloé explodes.
Chloé jumps to hug a little girl, protecting her from a piece of debris that falls from the roof and connects with Chloé's back, knocking the air out of her lungs and sending a wave of pain all over her body.
“Oops!” A voice Chloé recognises as Shadybug's makes her tense up. “What do we have here?”
The little girl whimpers and Chloé picks her up and runs as fast as she can towards the exit.
“Where are you going, Bourgeois?!”
Chloé's lungs, back and legs burn. Her arms hurt. The little girl becomes heavier and heavier the more seconds go by.
Where to hide? Where to hide? Where to hide?
She trips on her own feet and falls, moving her body right in time to not crush the little girl by falling on top of her, landing heavily on her side instead.
“Run!” Chloé ushers the little girl, who struggles to stand up on wobbly legs yet refuses to listen, trying to help Chloé stand up instead. “Run, please!”
“No!” The little girl cries. “Not without you! Stand up! Hurry! Please!”
Chloé tries, but her arms fail her and she falls face-first against the concrete.
“Miss!”
“Awwww,” Shadowbug mocks, approaching them like a predator to her prey, yo-yo in motion. Chloé wiggles in her place, to no avail.
“Leave her alone!”
“Eh? Move, kid.”
Chloé screams internally. Aching all over, she forces her arms to work, to hold her weight. She manages to sit up. Immediately, the little girl reaches for her. Chloé pushes her behind her body, extending her arms at either side to further her limited range of protection. Sweat drips from her forehead, golden hair sticking to her heated skin.
“That's more like it!” Shadybug claps, grinning. “Ever the hero, aren't you?”
“Le…Let the kid go!” Chloé gasps.
Shadybug rolls her eyes.
“What do I care about some child? She's free to go. I'm here for you, Flower of Paris.”
Chloé pants, her vision getting blurrier and blurrier.
“Hm? Hello? Urgh, hey, answer me!”
“Leave her alone!” The little kid cries behind Chloé.
“Shut up, brat! Go away!”
Chloé can hear her heart beating in her ears. It's deafening.
“Miss Bourgeois!”
“Miss!”
The last thing she makes out is the shouts of her bodyguards. And, suddenly, she's falling to the side and there's nothing but darkness.
Chloé has never been a fan of hospitals.
“Welcome back.” Her father's presence isn't exactly a source of comfort. “Don't bother trying to talk. You'll be here for two weeks. Maybe more.” He checks his watch, made of gold and embedded with tiny diamonds. “That child you took with you is safe.” Back at Chloé. “Her parents will vote for us for sure. And your bodyguards won't be fired.”
Chloé hums. She thanks her father for the news and closes her eyes.
During the three weeks she stays at the hospital, she receives countless visits. Reporters are not allowed. She notices how hard of a time Alya has because of that, but she appreciates the efforts. Not one question related to the details of the attack leaves her friend's lips, not even when they are alone together.
All of her classmates come, except for Marinette. Not like Chloé was expecting anything less. She, at the very least, respects the consistency. That's a good quality to possess.
Adrien visits thrice. He looks unbelievably guilty. Chloé squeezes his hand where the ring glints every time the light touches it. He squeezes back, alternating between a tight grip and a loose one.
The night before the day Chloé is scheduled to return home, Claw Noir pops inside her room from a window that's supposed to be closed and locked.
“Get out,” Chloé hisses, turning her head to the opposite side as not to look at the supervillain. “Don't make me scream.”
“Oh, but you won't, and we know it.” Claw Noir purrs. He has the gall to sit on the edge of Chloé's bed before he resumes speaking. “First, you know I'll hurt whoever comes through the door; second, you'll end up here longer; third, you were waiting for me to show up even if you won't admit it.”
Chloé clicks her tongue.
“Of course not.”
“Denial is a spilt glass of milk. Or how did it go, again?”
Chloé presses her lips together in a fine line. Like she'll allow herself to laugh at whatever the partner of the person who put her in that room says.
“Come on, princess!” Claw Noir whines. “I already kicked the Cockroach's ass for messing around! Should I do it again?”
Distrustful, Chloé half turns to Claw Noir, arching an eyebrow.
“Why would I believe you?”
Claw Noir shows her a photo of himself stepping on a tied-up and clearly beaten-up Shadybug. Chloé's jaw almost hits the bed.
“Careful there,” Claw Noir gently closes it with the tip of his gloved index finger. “We don't want you eating flies, do we, now?”
Chloé's face grows hot. She slaps Claw Noir's hand away.
“Fair,” he shrugs. “But I showed you proof. Talk to me.”
Chloé weighs her options.
“Why?”
“Because I looove hearing your voice!”
Chloé shakes her head.
“No. Why are you here? What do you care what happens to me?”
“I don't like Shadybug breaking my toys,” Claw Noir shrugs. “You're the prettiest. I had to do something.”
“I see,” Chloé hums.
“I'm joking, princess! Sheesh.” Claw Noir huffs. “You are pretty, though. No lies there.”
“Where were you? While Shadybug attacked the centre?” Chloé asks, not in the mood to entertain Claw Noir's attempts at flirting.
“No! Don't ask me about that!”
Chloé smiles sweetly.
“We talk about what I want or not talk at all.”
“Bossy,” Claw Noir scrunches up his nose, crossing his arms. “Fine. Whatever. I reserve the right not to answer, though.”
“As do I,” nods Chloé. “So?”
“None of your business.”
Chloé rolls her eyes.
“My turn! What's your favorite color? Let me guess! Green!”
“Actually… It’s pink.”
“Huh? Really?!”
“Yes.” Chloé points at the pink-dyed tips of her hair. “See? Why do you look so excited?”
“No reason,” says Claw Noir with a huge grin. “You go.”
“What's your real name?”
“Gabriel Agreste.”
Chloé barks out a laugh.
“You never said I had to tell the truth,” Claw Noir shrugs, smirking.
“Oh, shut up!”
Claw Noir nudges her side. Chloé winces.
“Sh-I mean-Sorry!”
“I'm messing with you.~”
Gasping, Claw Noir snorts.
“Nice one, princess!”
WELCOME BACK, reads the banner atop Chloé's classroom's chalkboard. Sabrina stands in the middle of her classmates with a cake with Chloé’s face on it and three lit candles.
Twenty-five minutes later, a new attack takes place.
It ends just in time for lunchtime to begin.
There is a message from Adrien asking if she's okay. Chloé answers with a photo of herself making a peace sign, cheeks full of cake.
Adrien sends a photo of himself pointing at a plate full of figs. His face says “Just my luck,” and Chloé can't help but giggle.
On her way back home, a new attack begins right at the center of Paris. The chauffeur avoids the busiest streets with expertise. They make it to the Grand Paris Hotel with a ten-minute delay but in one piece.
Atop Chloé's nightstand, right next to Mister Cuddly, an envelope awaits her. Inside, there is a silver bee-shaped comb.
“Pretty,” Chloé smiles. She doesn't remember the last time her father gifted her something outside her day-of-creation. She inspects the comb more carefully while she walks to her full-body mirror, missing the white butterfly that flies inside her room through the open door of her balcony.
Right when Chloé puts on the comb, the butterfly lands on her heart-shaped glasses, fusing with them. Chloé's eyes turn white.
In front of her, two figures stand. One is made of shadows, the other of light. All around them is a soft shade of pink. There is no roof, and there is no floor. Just the three of them alone together standing on nothing.
“Freedom,” the shadowy figure states. In his hand, Mister Cuddly materialises. They rip the teddy's head –Chloé gasps– and retrieve a necklace from inside the body, fluff scattering around their legs. “The Power to choose, all on your own, who you want to be. I am the Supreme. Join me, Chloé Bourgeois, and I will lend you my power.”
“Loyalty,” the being made of light speaks. Chloé's heart-shaped glasses lay between his hands, glowing. “I cannot grant you the freedom you long for, Chloé Bourgeois, as that Power is only yours… But I do ask for your aid. I am Betterfly, holder of the miraculous of the butterfly. Please, help me defeat the Supreme, Shadybug and Claw Noir. Join me.”
Chloé looks down, at her own hands holding the bee-shaped comb. She puts it on.
“It's totally personal.” She says, looking at the featureless face of the Supreme. “I like the sound of Betterfly way more than the Supreme.” She winks at him and waves. The Supreme screeches.
Chloé wakes up to warmth in a place she's never been to before. Kneeling in front of her, Betterfly smiles gently at her. He offers a hand that Chloé immediately doesn’t hesitate to take.
Betterfly's hideout could do with some light in it, considering its purpose; Chloé really shouldn't complain.
“Thank you, again, for deciding to join me, Miss Bourgeois…”
“I need a hero name.”
Betterfly startles. He chuckles.
“Yes, of course. How about…”
“Honeybee. I like that one. Is it too corny?”
“Dear child, my name is Betterfly.”
Chloé grins cheekily.
“Honeybee it is, then!”
Betterfly nods and clears his throat.
“Very well, then, Honeybee. Allow me to explain…”
Long story short, Betterfly has more allies, which makes sense because there is no way one person alone could go against three (under the impression the Supreme is one being alone and not a weird amalgamation of two or more). As the newest addition to the Kimiko (so that's how the butterflies are called!) team. Honeybee gets to meet none other than Alya Césarie and Nino Lahiffe under secret code names, yet no disguises. They don't recognise Chloé, since the kwamis (so many new terms) hide their holder's identity with magic. Very convenient.
“I'm so jealous,” Alya jokes, grinning at Honeybee nevertheless. “Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled we got another super on the team but God I wish it had been me!”
“Well, if it's worth something,” Honeybee smiles at Alya. “I wouldn't say yellow is your color.”
Nino snickers.
“Nor yours, either,” Honeybee adds in the name of equality.
Alya sighs.
“Fair enough.”
Chloé carries her miraculous around close to her. She sews an inner pocket to every pair of pants she has and breaths a little better.
On her next visit to Adrien, she yaps about the new friend she's made and how excited she is about getting to help in a whole new way. Adrien looks at her curiously, yet not enough to pry. Just as Chloé had been expecting.
She asks if he'd like to exchange her glasses for his ring. He still refuses.
Three days later, Shadybug and Claw Noir show up again. This time, Chloé guides as many people as possible to safety before following her bodyguards to a safe place and letting them know she needs to go to the bathroom, disappearing from their view to transform.
“Hi, Pollen.” Chloé caresses the head of the kwami that materialises in front of her the moment she puts on the bee-shaped comb. Pollen looks like a bee if bees had heads fifty times the size of their bodies and huge blue eyes. “Ready to kick ass?”
Pollen giggles, the tiny scars around her tiny mouth contorting as she speaks.
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
“Buzz on!”
“FUCK!” Shadybug swears the second her red eyes land in Honeybee's sky-blue ones that look golden behind her beehive-patterned goggles. “I told the Supreme we didn't need help and he didn't listen! Now look at you! Are you a superhero or a goddamn toy?! Why so much fluff!?”
Instead of dignifying Shadybug with a snarky or classy response, Chloé remembers how she laughed at her pain and flips her the bird.
“BWAHAHAHAHA!” Claw Noir bursts out laughing. He points at Honeybee with his baton. “I like you, new girl! What's your name?”
“Bite me!”
Claw Noir smirks.
“Fine. I'll call you… Angel, then. Y'know, because of the wings.”
“Honeybee,” Betterfly calls from the earpiece he gave her. “Focus.”
“Right,” Honeybee nods. “I'm sorry. I'm listening.”
“Good. I'm sending you an alley as we speak.”
Honeybee soon discovers she, in fact, really enjoys fighting. The dance lessons she took in the past sure come in handy!
Once the battle is over and Chloé is back in her room, she begins to search for the most effective ways to gain muscle mass. She shows Pollen her findings, who ohs and ahs in excitement.
Chloé had been meaning to start lifting weights anyway, even before Betterfly chose her as the bee miraculous holder. The image of the little kid's panicked face haunts her nightmares still.
Maybe Betterfly would agree to train her if she asks nicely and persistently enough.
Honeybee arrives at Betterfly's hideout with a plan: not going back home without a yes to her request of the man training her.
“Of course!” Betterfly agrees in the first three seconds, leaving Chloé pleasantly surprised. “We will start with defense tactics. Follow me to the training grounds.”
Giddy, Honeybee walks close behind Betterfly, nodding along at the man's words.
Days that turn into weeks that turn into months go by. Chloé has settled into her new normal with relative ease. Getting grounded isn't the worst thing that could happen anymore, not when she's got Pollen to talk to for hours on end.
A knock on the glass door of her balcony has her rolling her eyes, yet a tiny smile grows on her lips.
She hides the comb under her covers and puts her bee pillow atop the same spot. Sitting up on her bed, she slips into her fluffy slippers and goes to open the door, stepping outside.
“Heeeey, princess~” purrs Claw Noir. “How's school going? Anyone giving you trouble?”
Chloé takes a good look at the violet eyes of the supervillain and sighs.
“Quit the act. What happened?”
As if on cue, Claw Noir's smile disappears. Gone is the suave act. He hangs his head between his shoulders and deflates. If he wasn't a bad guy, Chloé would invite him inside her room. But, alas, he is.
“I can't stand her anymore.”
“Shadybug?”
“Who else? Angel?” Chloé makes a face. Claw Noir laughs at her. “Wow! You make almost the same face she does when I call her that!” He sighs. “But yes. That annoying Cockroach is the issue, as usual. If only I could get a hold of her earrings…”
Chloé crosses her arms.
Claw Noir rolls his eyes and pouts.
“I know you don't approve, princess. But I have to. There's no other way.”
“There is always another way,” Chloé assures, despite the voice inside her head mocking her, calling her a lying liar who lies. There's no other way for her. What she is. What she isn't. What she will never be. “If you joined Betterfly and Honeybee…”
“Again?! We've talked about this, princess!” Claw Noirs shakes his head. “Like they would ever trust me! We've been fighting them for months! I'd have an easier time getting you to join the Sup, Overgrown defective ant and me than them believing in me.”
Chloé hums, deep in thought.
“What?” Asks Claw Noir, curious. “What is it?”
“There's good in you,” Chloé declares. “You're hurting, but you are good. And so is Shadybug… Probably.”
Claw Noir takes two steps closer to her. Chloé tilts her chin up to follow his eyes. He tilts his head down and leans until their noses touch.
“You only say that because I saved you that one time,” his warm breath hits Chloé's face as he speaks. “If I had accepted your offer that day, you'd know there's no hope for me.”
“But you didn't. For whatever reason, and here we are now,” Chloé's breath tingles against Claw Noir's lips. ”No one is beyond hope, Claw Noir. No one.”
Claw Noir chuckles darkly.
“I am. I'm rotten work.”
“That's not true.” Chloé shakes her head, causing their noses to bump again and again. She places a hand atop Claw Noir's chest, right above his beating heart. “You're not rotten work. Not you. Especially not you.”
Slowly, Claw Noir sets his hand atop Chloé's.
“What's so special about me, according to you?” He asks. “You have way too much faith in someone you don't even know the identity of.”
“Then tell me who you truly are, so I can help you better.”
Claw Noir smirks and takes a step back. He moves Chloé's hand away and turns on his heels, baton in hand.
“You want to know that bad? Fine,” he looks at her over his shoulder as his baton grows, smirking. “If everything goes according to plan, I'll tell you tomorrow.”
As soon as Claw Noir is gone, Chloé closes the glass door and hurries to contact Betterfly. Something big might happen tomorrow.
Lo and behold, the dark clouds polluting the sky are not a good sign.
Honeybee flies around the city, trying to pinpoint the location of Shadybug and Claw Noir fruitlessly.
“Nothing in the west!” She reports, pausing atop a rooftop. No matter how good her stamina is, she has to think of Pollen as well. The kwami might be willing to push beyond her limits but Chloé won't subjugate her to any abuse.
“Think fast!”
Honeybee gasps, turning on her heels, yet there's no one behind her. Her arm prickles. She turns again, and there stands Claw Noir in front of her, a smirk on his face and a polka dot syringe in his hand, stabbing the superhero in the arm. “Sweet dreams, Angel.”
“Betterfly…!” It's all Honeybee gets to say, turning away once again yet only taking a few trembling steps before her brain gets foggy and her legs no longer have the strength to hold her. She feels herself collapse, her body being carried and moved. The panic soon becomes rage against herself, against Claw Noir, Shadybug and the Supreme.
Useless.
The world goes dark.
Honeybee wakes up with a gasp and a hand reaching for nothing. All alone, she breathes a sigh of relief at noticing she's still transformed.
Head throbbing, she tries to contact Betterfly through her spinning top yet all she catches is static. The same goes for Nino and Alya.
Panic claws at her throat. How much time has gone by?
The room she is in is small and mostly dark. No door in sight but a tiny window she could reach if she tried hard enough, but not nearly big enough for even her arm to pass through the bars.
“A trap,” she muses out loud. She moves as fast as her groggy body allows her, touching the walls, looking for any hidden cameras invisible to the naked eye but noticeable by touch. She finds nothing. Biting her lower lip, she decides to take a risk.
“Buzz off.”
Pollen stares at her.
“My queen!”
Chloé checks her phone. No reception! If she were to call the emergency number, who knows how long it would take them to pinpoint her location.
“There's no time!” She tells Pollen. “Please, go look for them. I can't get a hold of any of them. Hurry!”
Reluctantly, Pollen nods her head and flies away, disappearing from Chloé's sight.
Nino finds her. He's in bad shape, limping and with a black eye, but he gets her out of the darkroom somehow and barely has time to gasp upon discovering Honeybee is Chloé Bourgeois when Chloé has scooped him up like he weighs nothing and carried him to the closest hospital.
“A favor for a favor,” Chloé offers Nino a high-five that he eagerly accepts before being taken away in a stretcher. Then, she hurries to get Pollen something to eat, not even bothering to check her buzzing phone, exploding with calls and messages from one person alone. Right now, her father can go fuck himself. She hid Mister Cuddly where he won't ever be able to find him. For the time being, she's as safe as can be. At least, from him. The Supreme, Claw Noir and Shadybug might be another story.
Honeybee finds Alya barely able to stand. She expands on what Nino had told her – a parallel universe where Shadybug and Claw Noir are good.
“Betterfly knew you would insist on taking my place if we told you,” Alya holds Honeybee's shoulders and squeezes, partially to help herself stand, partially to assure Honeybee it has nothing to do with them not trusting in her. “I'm sorry… It's up to him now.”
Honeybee closes her eyes, her hands form tight fists.
“No,” she hisses, opening her eyes. “It's not! They'll come back. The three of them. I know they will. When they do… If Betterfly failed, we'll be ready to take Shadybug and Claw Noir down for good. Whatever it takes.”
Betterfly succeeds.
Despite his explanation, however, Honeybee still has a hard time not squinting at both Shadybug –Ladybug now– and Claw Noir –Paw Noir–. Even when they do sound genuinely repentant.
“You two hurt my friend. Badly.” Both ex-supervillains wince. “You better apologize.”
“We will,” Ladybug assures. “Since this moment, we'll make amends.”
“I'm sorry for drugging you,” Paw Noir blurts out.
“You did what?” Betterfly asks, horrified.
Honeybee stares at Paw Noir straight in the eyes.
“I don't forgive you.”
“It was my idea,” Ladybug stares at Honeybee, taking a step forward, an arm in front of Paw Noir as if to shield him. From Honeybee. “Don't put the blame solely on him.”
“I don't,” Honeybee assures coldly.
“Good. I'm sorry, too.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Honeybee!” Betterfly chastises.
“No, let her,” Paw Noir and Ladybug say. “We deserve it.”
“Yes,” Honeybee deadpans. “You do.”
Her maker grounds her. He shouts and screams and breaks Chloé's phone. Chloé takes it like a champ, not even flinching. She's exhausted, both physically and mentally. She just wants it to be over so she can go to her room and sleep for a week.
Instead of banishing her to her bedroom, however, André decides to punish her by appointing her to accompany him to the Achu Kingdom for the three weeks he is meant to spend there.
When she informs Betterfly, he laments the situation yet wishes her a nice enough trip, refusing to accept the miraculous of the bee back.
“Dear child, you're a vital part of our team. We won't ever replace you. With Ladybug and Paw Noir on our side, we should be able to manage three weeks without our Honeybee.”
Chloé holds her miraculous close to her chest and fights against the tears that threaten to pool in her eyes. Still, she shakes her head and places the comb on Betterfly's hand.
“Thank you… But you might need the power of the bee.”
Betterfly places a soothing hand on her shoulder.
“I'll make sure to deliver it back to you when you are back.”
Chloé holds those words close to her heart as she returns to the Grand Paris Hotel, the memory of the tight hug she gave Betterfly burning her face with shame yet warming the inside of her chest.
On Friday, she gives all the needed permits to Mrs Bustier.
“Three weeks?!” Nino exclaims, horrified. “We can't go on without our flower for three whole weeks? What is your father thinking?!”
“Nino, please,” Sabrina speaks up, trying to mask her displeasure at the news. “It's part of her duties as the daughter of the mayor.”
“Sucks anyway,” Ivan laments.
“Yeah!” The rest of the class –except for Marinette– groan in agreement.
Chloé chuckles. She really loves her friends.
That night, an ex-supervillain knocks on her door.
Chloé stares at the bluebell eyes of Ladybug.
“You,” Ladybug says, stops herself, points at the top of her head, frowns and clicks her tongue. “You!”
“Me,” Chloé deadpans.
“Bee!” Ladybug stomps her foot against the floor, visibly out of her depth. “It's you, isn't it? Honeybee?”
Chloé takes three steps back inside her bedroom, flips Ladybug the bird and closes the glass doors.
Ladybug leaves shortly after.
The night Chloé comes back to Paris, Paw Noir knocks on her door.
He is holding a bouquet of yellow daffodils that he offers her. She doesn't take it.
“I… I had a whole speech ready, you know?” Paw Noir begins, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “I practised and everything… But, right now, I can't remember it at all….” He clears his throat. “But…I know it's you…”
Chloé arches an eyebrow.
“You…! I know you're Honeybee!”
Chloé levels him with an almost bored look.
“So?”
Paw Noir gapes. It makes him look like a fish out of water. It would be funny if Chloé weren't so angry.
“So?! I-You…” Paw Noir drags his free hand down his face. He takes a deep breath and releases it. “Okay. Let me start again…” He holds the bouquet with both hands now in front of his body like a shield. “I told you I'd tell you my name, and then I didn't.”
“Mh.”
“And before that, you said I wasn't rotten work.”
“And then you hurt my friend.” And drugged me, but that's less important. Nino is human; she's not.
Paw Noir gulps.
“...I apologized.”
“As you should have,” Chloé states. When Paw Noir doesn't say anything in return, she exhorts. “Go on.”
“I…” He looks at the yellow daffodils as if they could help him think better, give him an answer. “I came here to know if you still think I… If we… Can we still be friends?”
Chloé stares.
“Still?”
With trembling lips, Paw Noir nods.
“Claw Noir made it very clear we were never friends.”
“I'm… not asking as Claw Noir…” He takes a deep breath. “Nor… as Paw Noir…”
Chloé's icy stare melts into sadness mixed with a touch of disappointment and a sparkle of hurt. Her shoulders drop, rounding.
“You are Adrien Agreste, aren't you?”
Looking away, Paw Noir nods.
The silence that follows lasts for far too long.
Chloé exhales.
“I don't know,” she admits. “I don't know if we can be friends after what you did. Even if it was to bring Auntie Emilie back…” Slowly, she reaches for the bouquet. She takes it from Paw Noir's - Adrien's hands, who looks at her with hope in his green eyes behind the black mask. “But I want to try.”
“Thank you,” Adrien whispers. “I'll work hard.”
“I know you will.” Chloé smells the flowers, a tiny smile grows on her lips, so small it is barely there. “No more secrets. Promise me.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Adrien holds his right hand up. “No more secrets between us. Ever.”
Only then, Chloé invites him to stay the night.
“Father is working late again. Wanna meet Pollen?”
Buzzing with excitement at the offer, Adrien nods.
“Plagg, claws out!”
The kwami of the black cat has his mouth shut with a red seal. Chloé offers her palm for him to sit on.
“Hi, little one. I'm Chloé Bourgeois. Pollen is my friend. Would you like to see her?”
With shiny eyes, Plagg nods.
While Pollen talks to Plagg, Chloé asks Adrien to help her find a vase to put her daffodils.
(“So? How's it going?” Ladybug asks Paw Noir during a break on their joint night patrol. “It's been a month and a half since we joined, yet she's still stand-offish. More so with you than me.”
“It's going,” Paw Noir shrugs. “Worried about me?”
“You wished.”
Paw Noir snorts.
“Get moving, Bug.”
“Don't tell me what to do, Cat.”
Rolling his eyes, Paw Noir doesn't miss Ladybug's smirk. It's nice not to be at each other's throats anymore.
“I did tell you not to fraternize with the enemy.”
“And I told you not to be a pain in my ass, yet here we are.”
“Screw you!” Ladybug laughs.
“Nu-uh.”
“What are you, five?”
Paw Noir makes a peace sign.
“Actually, I'm seven, thank you very much.”)
A month from the one-year anniversary of the rise of Shadybug and Claw Noir, Gabriel Agreste asks his son if he might want to give Lycée Francois Dupont a new chance.
Adrien hugs his father, nodding. A warm hand ruffles through his hair. Father and son share a laugh.
As the new school year begins, Adrien makes sure to get there before Chloé does, eager to surprise her.
“Agreste?” Marinette Dupain-Cheng calls his name, surprised to see him as a civilian. “What are you doing here?”
Adrien points at the school entrance with his thumb.
“Huh. Well. Welcome back, mangy cat.”
“Does she know, too?”
Both Marinette and Adrien startle, turning to look at an approaching Chloé who only got to hear the mangy cat part.
Adrien curses internally but nods, lamenting his failed surprise.
Chloé looks past Adrien at Marinette.
“Are you Ladybug?”
“HAH? HAHAHA! What?! Are you concussed or something?! I'm just…” Chloé glares at her, completely destabilizing Marinette, so used to looking at Chloé swallow any bad emotion to keep up her facade of the perfect good little girl. “Just… Marinette…”
“Okay,” says Chloé in a way that makes it obvious she doesn't mean it. “Whatever you say. Classes are about to start. It was nice seeing you, Adrien.”
“He goes here,” says Marinette.
Chloé does a double take. Adrien smiles as best as he can. When she smiles back, his soul returns to his body.
“Welcome back, in that case.”
“I'm going ahead,” Marinette rolls her eyes, walking past them.
Adrien opens his mouth, but no sound comes out of it. He frowns. He tries a second and third time. By the sixth attempt, he's grown frustrated.
Chloé touches his shoulder and shakes her head.
“Baby steps, Adrikins. First, let's check if we're in the same class.”
Adrien notices the bee-shaped comb adorning Chloé's hair, accompanying her heart-shaped glasses.
He nods, raising his hand, his ring glinting as the sunlight hits it, and arches his eyebrows, wiggling his fingers.
Giggling, Chloé intertwines their pinkies.
Like that, they march inside Francois Dupont together.
They do, in fact, share the same class. That's not Marinette's case, however, and neither Alya's nor Sabrina's. Without their usual seat partners in sight, Chloé and Adrien sit together.
“Why didn't you tell me you were enlisting back to Francois Dupont?” Chloé asks. “I thought we promised no more secrets?”
Adrien lifts his index finger, arching his eyebrows. Chloé understands. “This was supposed to be a surprise, not a secret!”
She rolls her eyes, amused.
“Alright. I'll let it slide just this once. Only because I'm so glad you're back.”
Adrien beams at her.
Mrs Bustier isn't their homeroom teacher either, but Mrs Corsé. Gisele Corsé.
Chloé leans closer to Adrien and whispers.
“She's dating Mrs. Bustier.”
Adrien's eyes widen, his jaw falling open. Gently, Chloé pushes it close by lifting Adrien’s chin up with his index and middle fingers.
Betterfly's new hideout is bigger and brighter. Honeybee prefers it a lot more compared to the previous one.
Sitting across from one another, Honeybee taps at her knees with her hands, humming. Betterfly smiles at her.
“You seem happy, dear child.”
“Do I? That's good.”
Betterfly hums in agreement. He waits for Honeybee to elaborate, when she doesn't, he speaks again.
“Would you like to share the reason?”
“Oh! No.” Honeybee smiles politely. “This once I'd prefer not to. I don't want to jinx it.”
Betterfly's gaze softness. He takes a sip of his tea and ponders his response.
“Try asking me again in two months,” Honeybee offers.
Smiling, Betterfly only nods.
The day the last daffodil dies, Honeybee knocks on the glass door of Adrien's balcony. She carries a single yellow rose that she carefully tucks behind Adrien's right ear, cupping the boy's cheek affectionately.
“Green is definitely your color, but yellow looks good on you, too, your grace.”
Right when Adrien's fingers grace Chloé's palm, she removes her hand and turns on her heels.
“Goodnight!” She wishes and she leaps away.
Adrien proudly wears his yellow rose to school the next day, and the next and all the days that follow until the rose starts to wither away. Then, he carefully tucks it inside a fat book and presses it between its pages to preserve it.
Only while alone in his room during the night, a yellow petal between his fingers and a goofy smile on his lips, does he begin to think he might like Chloé as more than a friend.
Sitting up on his bed, he touches his cheek. The memory of clear, kind sky-blue eyes accompanied by a sweet smile pop on his head.
“No way,” he whispers.
Yellow looks good on you, too.
His face grows hot.
“Huh?!”
(“How do you know if you have a crush?”
“Ew.”
“This is serious, Ladybug!”
“Is it, really? It's obvious you like your little princess angel or whatever. Just get it over with and confess already.”
“No! I She doesn't like me like that!”
“The hell she doesn't!”
“I'm serious!”
“Fine. I'll ask her. Hey, Honeybee!”
“WAIT! Don't!”
“You called?”
“No, she didn't!”)
Betterfly studies the nervousness written all over Paw Noir's face. Sitting across from one another, Betterfly leans closer.
“I'm all ears. What's troubling you?”
“I… think I have a crush on someone.”
“I see. Well, crushes are something perfectly normal…”
“It's Honeybee.”
“That can and sometimes might be kept a secret for the greater good…”
Paw Noir takes a deep breathe, looking at his reflection in the teacup between his hands.
“What if I don't want to keep it a secret?”
Betterfly clears his throat.
“Well, you see, Paw Noir, love is…”
“I'm meow-ssing with you. I'm not saying a thing. She's way too good for me anyway.”
“Paw Noir,” Betterfly calls softly. Paw Noir looks up, surprised by the frown on the man's brow. “You and Ladybug haven't stopped working hard, making amends every chance you get. You got taken advantage of by the Supreme. You're good enough. You're worthy of happiness and love. Don't let anyone, especially not yourself, convince you otherwise.”
“Wow,” Paw Noir sniffs, lips wobbly. “Who's cutting onions?”
A few days later while chilling in Adrien's bed alone together in comfortable silence, Chloé sighs contently. She closes her book, turns to look at Adrien and breaths:
“I forgive you.”
Adrien freezes. Slowly, he looks at her. Her smile grows, beaming at him. Suddenly, the world has stopped, no one exists but the two of them.
Oh.
Oh.
He doesn't have a crush. He's in love.
He parts his lips, his throat dry and his stomach pressed in a tight knot.
He's in love.
“Thanks, Chlo.”
Chloé gasps. She giggles, leaning closer to press their foreheads together. Her sky-blue eyes glimmer.
He's in love.
“Don't thank me, silly! You worked hard, just like you say you would. You kept your word. You deserve it.”
He's so in love.
Where does he go from here?
She bumps their noses together playfully and retreats, going back to her book like nothing has happened. Like Adrien hasn't had a wonderful shattering revelation a second ago.
Chloé turns a new page, eyes glued to the page, basking in the warmth of Adrien's bed and the sun that enters through the opened doors of the balcony, as relaxed as one can be, not a care in the world.
Seriously, where is he supposed to go from here? Because back is definitely not an option.
“Hey, Chlo?”
“Mh?” She turns to look at him again. She's glowing.
“I love you.”
Her smile is huge, bright and peaceful. She clearly misunderstood.
“As do I.”
Adrien shakes his head.
“No. I love you,” he repeats, making sure to impregnate his voice with the gravitas a love confession merits. “I love you.” No more secrets, they had said, they had promised. Adrien hopes she can forgive him one last time, for taking advantage of a well-intended compromise to be selfish one more time. “I love you.”
Where does he go from here? Where do they go from here? He prays her answer will enlighten him. Just once more, he will put all of his faith in her, blindly hoping for a good outcome. She's exceptionally good at that. Like when she would distract him from his mother's illness with little stories about his classes shared with classmates, about teachers he didn't really care about, about mildly interesting schoolwork. Like when she would make it easier for him to fall asleep while humming tunes and caressing the back of his head, providing a kind of warmth only someone that deeply knows and cares about you can provide. Like when she got his father to talk with Adrien's to convince him to allow him in Francois Dupont, just for Adrien to choose a stranger's offer of power and a Wish if he got back a butterfly brooch, taking on the name of Claw Noir by putting on a seemingly normal ring…
“Don't worry,” she tells him, eyes kind but hollow all of a sudden. “It'll pass.”