Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chloe had been having a wonderful dream, and quite frankly, she'd like to go back to it. Instead, here she was, internally cursing her curious nature as she crept across the cold floor towards the direction of the noise that had woken her up. Of all the things she'd been expecting—robbers, an akuma, kidnappers—a leather clad superhero wasn't one of them.

Chat Noir was standing just outside her bay window, tapping impatiently on the frost coated glass. Which was, in her opinion, utterly ridiculous. Not only had he the nerve to show up at her window, he had woken her up. And for what? To make a few bad puns and try to talk her into apologizing to Ladybug? She wouldn't. He had tried before, and he had failed before.

She sighed heavily before unlocking the door and stepping aside to let him in. (She wasn't a monster. It was a chilly night, and she knew firsthand that the suits didn't provide much winter protection.)

"What's your excuse for bothering me this time?" She sniffed, looking him up and down with her arms crossed.

He grins, leaning in close to her heater and attempting to look suave while doing so. "Whattt? Can't I just want to check in with you? It's my duty to care for civilians, you know."

Of course he couldn't wait to throw her civilian status in her face. Whatever. She didn't even miss being a hero that much, definitely. "Ugh. Hurry up and tell me so you can leave."

His confident smile started to slip as he looked down at his wrist, which she now noticed that he was clutching with his free hand. She unconsciously reached out for him, and then drew back when he looked up. (She could practically her mother now, lecturing her about how women of their stature didn't do casual touch. They just didn't.)

"I…did something stupid, and Ladybug would yell at me if I went to her." He's looking down with a chastened expression, but she can tell that he's being genuine.

"How did you manage to get hurt so badly that the suit can't heal it? That seems…odd."

"Uh, well, funny story actually…I'm not supposed to be out as Chat Noir right now. I'm supposed to be home, sick with the flu." He somehow manages to look proud of himself and sheepish at the same time.

Chloe raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. "And I suppose you figured I wouldn't go to Ladybug, for obvious reasons?" (She would have done the same thing in his place, but she wasn't about to tell him that.)

"Um. Yes?"

"Hmf. Fair enough. I guess you'll be wanting me to get the first aid kit for you?"

He looks up at her beseechingly, still holding his hands in front of the warm air blowing out from her electric fireplace. "Would you?"

She rolls her eyes, already walking towards the bathroom where it's kept. Returning, she holds the kit out to him, waving it in his face.

"Well? Are you gonna take it or not?"

"I was…kinda hoping you could do it? I can't really move my wrist, and wrapping it will definitely take more than one hand."

"Excuse me? a Bourgeois does not wrap other's injuries for them. Why would I want to touch your filthy wound, much less help you with it?" (She hates how much she can hear her mother in her tone, but it's too late to change her words. He's used to it anyway, she supposes.)

Chat stares at her pleadingly, clearly expecting her to give in. "C'mon bee, please? I'm tired and cold. And hungry. You wouldn't happen to have any food..?"

She huffs and marches towards him with the roll of bandages, if only to get him to leave sooner. "Honestly, don't you ever shut up?" she mutters as she pushes him into the leather chair next to the fire, his reflexes saving him from landing awkwardly.

She inspects the injury, holding it still while the feline hero tries to get her to release her hold. "You don't have to—okay." He seemingly gives up, slumping against the chair as she tightens the wrap around his wrist.

"Is that okay, or should it be more-"

"That's enough! I don't think I'll have a wrist left if you tighten it anymore." Her eyes widen slightly at the force of his words, but gets up and stands back, letting him finish off the end.

"Why would you ask me for help if you're just going to yell at me" she grumbles, looking away as he gets up and yawns.

"I honestly didn't think you'd be that bad at it," He confesses with a small smile, still carrying his arm gingerly despite the bandage.

Chloe tapped her foot against the floor impatiently, wanting him gone but still curious about his true intentions. "Still, why'd you come here of all places? Why not that baker girl? Aren't you two friends? She'd jump at the chance to help you I'm sure."

He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "Last time i did that she lectured me for a good hour while stitching me up…she reminded me a lot of my lady at the time, actually."

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "And you decided I was the next best option?"

"Well--it's not exactly a secret that your hotel is one of the best stocked in Paris. And as a former hero, you're not about to run to the news as soon as dawn breaks. hopefully, anyway."

And there it was. Former hero, civilian, ex bee holder, whatever he chose to call her, it was always a reminder of her past. (Not that she'd ever admit it, but it hurt to be excluded casually like that. Like he didn't even have to think about it first.)

"Okay, you're all better now then. Scram."

He looked confused at the abrupt switch in tone, but nodded and grabbed his pole before heading for the door. "Have a nice night then." He paused for a second,then turned halfway towards her and smiled hesitantly. "Chloe?"

"What?"

"Thank you." And with that, he saluted her and then climbed down the balcony, using the pole to brace himself against the railing.

She stared at the medical supplies strewn across the floor for a minute, trying to process the events of the night.

"Whatever. Dumb Chat. I don't even like him, don't know why…" She continued muttering to herself as she climbed into bed and turned off the light, twisting in her sheets to face the glass where the hero had vanished.

"Goodnight" she whispered to the darkness.

Out on the street, a boy clad in black winced and touched his arm, glancing back up at the now dark windows.

Chapter Text

Of all the places she expected to see Chat again, it certainly wasn't running for his life through a cluttered alley. He was stumbling, clearly hurt, but still managed to outpace the robotic looking drone that chased him. Chloe didn't pay much attention to the akumas nowadays (That was a lie. She kept up on the news like her life depended on it, as if Ladybug would ever trust her enough to listen to her theories on the akumas again.) But this one looked different. Shiny in a way that most things in Paris weren't, almost like it was meant to catch your eye.

Whatever it was, the hero it was following seemed exhausted, glancing behind him every few seconds as if hoping the drone would lose energy and fall into one of the many trash piles littering the street.

Chloe sighed. She really didn't want to deal with this today. It was supposed to be her spa day, for heavens sake, but then of course Sabrina had canceled on her with a lame excuse of "I have homework."

They both knew that wasn't true, the ginger haired girl had never turned down any invitation from Chloe with such a flimsy reason before. (Well, Chloe had never been so publicly shunned before. As much as she hated to admit it, it made sense Sabrina would want to keep her distance from someone whose own family wouldn't even give her the time of day.)

The decision wasn't hard once she thought about it like that. She didn't have anything better to be doing, and however annoying he was, Chat clearly could use some help. …Maybe she shouldn't have yanked him quite so hard.

Chat glared up at her from the floor of the small cafe she'd pulled him into, rubbing his wrist. "Seriously? You couldn't possibly think of a better way to grab me than to bruise up my arm?"

She scoffed, crossing her arms defiantly. "Well, sorry for assuming you needed help. I can't read minds, Chat. Next time I won't bother."

She turned to go with a huff and a toss of her hair, and was rudely stopped by a tug on her cuffed pants. She turned back around to see him still sitting on the floor, head tilted cockily with that stupid smile he always seemed to wear effortlessly. (Not that she noticed his smile. Not like she was jealous of how easily it came to him.)

"Hey, c'mon, don't be like that. Who said I didn't need help? I could definitely be helped by that pastry over there, if you wanted to apologize for my arm…"

Chloe just stared at him before reaching down and making a point of brushing off the pants cuff he had yanked at. "These pants are designer, do you know how much they cost? You could have ruined them you oaf."

Chat only grinned wider as he hopped to his feet, still holding onto his wrist as if it pained him to let go. "If you have that much money to spend on designer pants, then buy me a pastry. You owe me, so please?"

Ugh, and now she was basically being blackmailed. Great. Just what she wanted today. Would it really be that bad?, she mused. He wasn't the best of company, but there was definitely worse. And it had been a while since she'd eaten, and…ugh fine then.

She marched up to the counter and tapped the bell impatiently, tapping her foot as she waited. The worker who appeared seemed kindly but tired, eyebags betraying the cheerful energy they excluded. She could almost feel bad for them as she ordered from the heavenly smelling case. (And wasn't that a thought. Her, feeling bad for a service worker? Her mother might actually drop dead if she heard that.)

She returned with the pastries, waving Chat over to a table with flowers in the middle. He promptly sat backwards, turning the chair all the way around and leaning on the back. She would almost say the movement reminded her of a large cat, ironically enough.

"God, do you ever sit properly? Is that even possible for you?"

He shrugged, already biting messily into a raspberry pastry with both hands.He mumbled something around the food that she couldn't catch, infuriatingly.

"What, did your mother never teach you not to talk while eating? I thought superheros were supposed to have manners."

He frowned at that, expression turning sad for a split second. If she hadn't been watching him so closely, she didn't think she'd have caught it at all. (Why should she care anyway? He's just a dumb chat, that's all. She didn't care if he was sad or not, or why.)

He swallowed down his huge bite with a grimace, smug smile returning full force once he finished. "Nope. She didn't teach me a thing. Plus, I'm a total gentleman! Have you even seen me in action?"

She raised an eyebrow incredulously. "I somehow doubt that. You, a gentleman? Don't make me laugh."

"You say that like you can laugh- I'm convinced your only emotions are resting bitch or active bitch."

The spoon she was holding clattered out of her hand as she gaped at him. "You-I-Wha-How dare you!"

Chat didn't seem fazed, leaning back in his seat and taking another pastry from the pile on the table. "Sorry, do you prefer Heather?"

He's not making any sense, she thought grumpily before taking another bite. "Heather? What are you even talking about? Did all that swinging around finally get to your head?"

"Heather from Mean Girls? Don't tell me you've never seen it."

Of course it was a horrible pop culture reference. He never seemed to tire of them, even in the middle of battle. Frankly, it was ridiculous, the way he always had a joke and a wink at hand. (She was starting to wonder if all that energy was genuine, now that he'd shown her a more vulnerable side. It just didn't seem possible.)

"Of course I haven't seen it. Why would I waste time on such a trivial film?"

He tilted his head, claw tapping the edge of the plastic table. "Your loss. Unless…we could watch it together? If you wanted."

Her head snapped up at that. He was asking her to hang out? Absolutely no one ever asked her to just casually hang out.(Anymore, at least.) It had to be out of pity. Of course it was, no one would offer to hang out with her willingly without an ulterior motive. He probably felt bad for her lack of friends, that's it. That's what it was. Stupid chat sticking his nose in people's lives.

"Why would I want to spend time with you of all people? I'm not some charity case you can fix." She sniffed haughtily, drawing herself up in an effort to look more intimidating. (Judging by Chat's small laugh, she didn't think it was working much.)

"Well then how about I'm the charity case?" he proposed, stretching casually over his head.

"What?" He wasn't making any sense again. This conversation was practically meaningless in her opinion.

"I don't have any friends to hang out with or watch movies with. Pleaseeeee? plus, we can make popcorn! It'll be really fun I promise." His tail twitched back and forth behind him, though she got the feeling it was more out of excitement than anger.

She really couldn't say what possessed her to say yes. Maybe the hopeful expression on his face, or the fact that he had spent more time with her in the past week than anyone else, even her faithful butler. But she had agreed, and he had been overjoyed that she did. (It wasn't endearing at all, the way his eyes lit up when she had finally, grudgingly, sighed and given in. She refused to think of anything he did as endearing.)

"Alrightttt we've got a date!" He flipped his way over the guardrail outside the cafe, waving to a small kid as he did so.

"Ew. Don't call it that or I'm taking back my answer," she retorted, hands deep in her pockets as she turned to leave.

"Whatever you say Bee!" He smiled, giving one last wave before jogging down the sidewalk and disappearing into an dark back lane.

She huffed as she watched him go, conversation already replaying in her mind. (She didn't deserve to be called Bee anymore.Not the way he said it, so harmless and well meaning she couldn't even pretend to think he was mocking her with the nickname.)

She waved back long after he was far out of sight, hand dropping back to her side limply. "Not like I even care," she muttered, hastening her pace as rain started to fall, thick droplets that soaked through her clothes almost instantly. The walk ahead of her was sure to be miserable now.

Chapter Text

She wasn't actually expecting him to show up. It was utterly foolish to trust his oddly comforting smile in the first place, what if he was manipulating her? And of course he wouldn't show, what kind of superhero could afford to take time off to visit civilians as they pleased? (Not…that she was a civilian. Was there a word for "disgraced hero"? Not in any dictionaries that she'd heard of. Though, she hadn't really heard of many. French was a boring enough class without bringing the definitions of words into it.)

She didn't care whether he turned up or not. Definitely not. At all. That's why she was straightening the tastefully chosen throw pillows on her bed for the fifth time that night, and had bothered to move the TV directly across from it. She had asked Jean-Paul to help her lift it, and honestly, who did he think he was? He had the audacity to look surprised when she asked, and she could have sworn she caught a hint of a smile in his carefully controlled expression.

She would have thought he was laughing at her behind her back if he was anyone else, but as much as she hated to admit it, Jean would never do that. He was too kind, too patient to even think of such a thing. (The only who bothered to pay attention to her when no one else would.)

So naturally, when she heard a rapping at the door later in the evening, she assumed it was the butler and called out thoughtlessly, still fidgeting with a decorated blanket.

"Leave them at the door, Jean-Paul."

"Do I look like a Jean-Paul to you?" Chat scoffed, leaning against the doorframe lazily. He made the action look seamless, like he did it without thinking. He probably didn't, she thought with a ting of bitterness. With agility like that, who needed to double check their posture? (god, his posture really was abominable now that she was thinking about it.)

She raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down scathingly. "At least he's actually useful. What do you do, laze around all day and moon over Ladybug's pictures on the ladyblog?"

He crossed the room in a few strides, flopping down on her duvet dramatically with his arms outstretched as far as they would go. "I wish! I'll have you know I'm a very in demand cat. My schedule is absolutely packed. Honestly, I could barely sneak away."

"It's not like I asked you to come. If you're really that busy, the door is that way." (She just knew he would hound her endlessly if he somehow figured out she didn't want him to leave. It was an odd feeling, not wanting someone to leave. Normally, she couldn't wait to get them out of her sight.)

He barely glanced up at her pointed finger, seemingly focused on burying his head as deeply as he could into the cushions. "That's the widow, not the door."

His words were muffled, a mop of messy blond hair sprawled across the blanket. If Chloe didn't utterly despise the thought, she might have called him adorable. Not that he was…ugh. She supposed there was a certain charm to the way he tilted his head up at her inquisitively. Probably the same charm that had countless Parisians tripping over themselves to get a picture with him every day. (The same charm that had Ladybug smiling fondly at him after a mission. She wondered if Ladybug would ever look at her like that, one day.)

Right. The window. "You're telling me you've never jumped through a window to leave a room for no reason before? That's hard to believe."

He twisted over onto his back, hand thrown melodramatically over his eyes to shade from the light above. "Well duh, how else will people know I'm cool and super hot as I exit the room?"

She sighed, crossing over to lie next to him as she grabbed a pillow to sock him with. "You are such a loser, oh my god. How does Ladybug even deal with you?"

"Energy drinks. Lots and lots of caffeine and sugar also." he nodded solemnly as if he had just spoken sacred words and not just spelled out a cardiologists nightmare. (Was it weird that she was worried for the heroine's health now? Honestly, anyone would be, after hearing that.)

"Soooo…are we gonna watch this thing or what?" she gestured towards the TV, glancing vaguely in the direction of the last place she had set down its remote. Unsurprisingly, as soon as she turned back to face Chat, he held it up, shaking the small box with a smirk.

"I lied. We're not watching the original juuuuust yet. We're gonna see the remake first so you have a finer appreciation for the arts."

"WHAT. ABSOLUTELY NOT."

"Hey hey hey, respect the costume! Just give up and accept your fate- HEY-" he twisted out of reach with a pout, holding the remote far above her head as she continued to grab for it.

"We are NOT watching some stupid remake. I don't do remakes. The premise alone is ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous."

She stopped her efforts to reach for the remote only to glare at Chat, who was looking far too self-satisfied for his own good. "What are you smiling at?" She snapped, crossing her arms with a huff.

"I was starting to think you were being replaced with an akuma, but nope, that's the Chloe I know and…I wanna say love? But I don't think I'm capable of that towards you."

She stuck out her tongue at him, giving up at getting the rights to the TV and finally sitting back down. "If I were an akuma you'd know, asshole. I make the coolest, of course."

He raised an eyebrow, propped up on one hand. "I'm not too sure that's a prize you wanna win. 'coolest akuma' isn't exactly a beauty pageant title. Besides, Glaciator kinda got that one a while ago. You know, because of the ice cream…and all…."

"Yeah, ok. I get it. Can we just start the film already?" She had been starting to have fun, as loathe she was to think it, but Chat's mention of akumas had snapped her right back to her spiraling thoughts. (She always made the worst akumas, she knew. He was right, she really didn't want to claim that title. She could still see the memory of Ladybug looking down at her with disapproval so clearly, as if it had happened yesterday. It might as well have.)

But glancing at Chat making himself comfortable on her bed as if he belonged there…Maybe his partner wasn't as mad at her anymore. Maybe she would be as willing to forgive (?) (She still wasn't sure if he had forgiven her yet. Perhaps it wasn't his place to.) as her feline companion. Chloe really, really hoped so. (She so dearly wanted to see her idol gazing at her with pride and hopefulness in her expression again. Just once. Did that make her selfish? She really didn't care.)

Chapter Text

Between Sabrina not answering her calls (absolutely ridiculous); her parents getting into yet another fight over the phone (this time about Zoe's education. Apparently the girl couldn't read to save her life), and having woken with a horrible headache (courtesy of Chat dropping in to bemoan his existence late into the night), Chloe was having a horrible day.

The akuma that had appeared halfway through it definitely wasn't helping. Evidently Hawk Moth was running out of ideas, because a villain who insulted insecurities? Really? She had her mother for that, thank you very much. This mediocre nuisance barely even registered on her radar in comparison.

…Which, in hindsight, was probably the reason he had aimed directly at her the first chance he had gotten. She supposed striding along and decidedly ignoring the chaos around her hadn't helped much to hide her as well. But honestly, what had she done to deserve being targeted by some hack with a vengeance? (Actually quite a lot now that she thought about it)

"Come ON, do you have nothing better to do?!" she shrieked, dodging yet another projectile flung at her. Ducking into a nearby alley, she slumped against the wall, trying to catch her breath. (So what if she was a little out of shape. Sue her.)

At least the akuma seemed to have moved on, since he hadn't followed her into the cramped space, which she was starting to notice had a distinct smell of rot that surely only got stronger the deeper you went.Not that she was planning to do that. The great Chloe Bourgeois didn't do crawl spaces, simply as a fact. It was unbecoming, and besides, her outfit couldn't afford to get ruined, let alone her hair.

"Hmph." She straightened her necklace, stepping confidently out of the alleyway because there was just no way the akuma had stuck around for more than ten seconds. There were far easier people to pick off, after all. She glanced up at the sky only to freeze, hand reaching towards the safety of the wall behind her.

"You have got to be kidding me. SERIOUSLY?" the akuma only shrugged before launching directly at her. She staggered backwards before the world went dark with a sharp crack.

Chloe blinked awake blearily to the sound of soft humming from above and the vague sensation of being carried. Trying to open her eyes fully, she flinched, suppressing a small gasp at the spike of pain that went through her head at the attempt.

"Wouldn't try that if i were you. He got you pretty good, from the looks of it."

She knew that voice. Ignoring the pain this time, she blinked up to see brilliant green eyes staring back at her, head tilted like a curious cat. Which, well, she supposed he was. God, did he have to show up absolutely everywhere?

Trying to sit up, she pushed against his arms, but he only held on tighter, face twisting in disapproval. "Cut that out, would you?"

"What happened? Where are you taking me? I demand you put me down this very instant." (privately, she admitted to herself that she didn't mind being held gently, but she did have an image to maintain after all)

He shook his head, turning his attention back to the skyline. "Something tells me you're in no shape for me to do that right now. Just enjoy the ride, Bee."

Grumbling quietly to herself, she settled back down, resigning herself to the light steps of the feline hero moving across the rooftops of Paris. Her headache had gone down to a soft throbbing in the back of her mind, so she was able to enjoy the view of the sun setting. Deep oranges and blues streaked the sky, the bustle of the streets far below.

She frowned, trying to recollect why something felt off. She had been walking…the akuma…that was it. The akuma. He must have knocked her out. And judging by the looks of the sky, several hours had passed before Ladybug and Chat Noir had been able to take him down. (It was pathetically, really, that she had been knocked out that easily. She was supposed to be an ex-hero, for heavens sake, she should have known better.)

"This landing is going a little rough, so hold on tight" Chat said, glancing down at her quickly before looking forward again.

"Rough? Isn't your power literally smooth landings? Hey-" She cut herself off with a squawk as he leapt off the rooftop, skidding onto safe ground ten feet below. The descent jolted through her head, causing the pain to start anew.

He looked down in concern, carefully letting her down from her perch so she could stand. "Are you okay? The Miraculous Cure usually fixes any problems caused by the akuma."

"Well your stupid cure apparently didn't fix this one," she hissed, clutching the side of her head and stamping her foot for good measure.

His concerned facade cracked slightly as the corner of his mouth turned up in mirth. "Your injuries were probably worse when she found you if you're still feeling pain. You should try to rest up. Can't have you out of commission for our next movie night now."

Chloe just scoffed. "You're crazy if you think I'll let you trick me into a musical again. And wait- did you say she? Weren't you the one to find me?"

He shook his head, glancing down at his baton. "Ladybug found you passed out on the sidewalk, unconscious. And you're lucky she did, so I don't want to hear your grievances against her right now."

She pursed her lips, studying the feline. Honestly, she didn't think he was aware of her feelings about being kicked from the team. Maybe he was less stupid than he seemed. There was just one thing that didn't add up, though.

"Why would Ladybug rescue me? She hates me." She may not have outright said it, but it was incredibly obvious that her idol wanted nothing to do with her.

Now that got him to focus on her. "What? Ladybug is always impartial towards everyone. Why would she hate you?"

She threw her hand up in the air, keeping the other one glued to her headache. "I don't know, maybe because I've been horrible towards you guys and almost helped Hawkmoth win?"

She clamped a hand over her mouth immediately, turning away from his dumbfounded face. (She shouldn't have said that. Those thoughts were supposed to stay safe in her mind, where she could rotate them bitterly and beat herself up over it.)

"Chloe…" Chat's gloved hand grasped her shoulder tenderly, warmth spreading at his touch. She moved away, towards the entrance of the side street he'd landed them in.

"It doesn't matter. Forget it. Go play yarn or whatever it is you do in your free time." She left without looking back towards his heartbroken expression watching her leave. (She was worried that if she did, she might start to cry.)