Author's Note:

What is a bee's favorite part of a relationship?

The Honeymoon period.

Chapter 10

Marinette was three-quarters through the Transformers movie when there was a knock on something wooden that didn't sound like it was part of the soundtrack. Pausing the movie, she turned toward her hatch. Daughter of bakers, her parents had to rise early to fire up the ovens and start on the morning baking, so Marinette wondered what her mother was still doing up.

Taking her feet off her desk, she gathered up the swath of knitting she'd been doing to keep her fingers occupied while watching and rested it on the basket, storing the needles so they didn't slip. Getting to her feet, she trotted over to the hatch. "Mom?"

The knock came again, not from ahead of her, but above and behind. Halting, Marinette raised her head, following the sound.

Bumblebee waved at her sheepishly from the trap door above her bed.

Marinette blinked. Glancing at the window, she saw the tell-tale signs of twilight. Sunset. He must be on his way to meet… her. So then, why was he here? Nerves flooding her, she went to open the hatch. "Look what the cat dragged—" she said, then shook her head, remembering she wasn't supposed to know he was Chat Noir. "Wait… I can't say that. Look what the bee bumbled?"

Bumblebee laughed. "Hello, Marinette."

"Did Chat Noir send you?" she asked. "Just because he drops in occasionally for cookies, doesn't mean that invitation is extended to all peckish heroes."

He gave her his best kitten look and she kicked herself for not seeing the resemblance before. "There's no cookies?"

"There's cookies. But I might like to eat them on my own."

He smiled and her knees felt weak. "Surely you could spare one cookie for a peckish lost bee."

"You can't be lost if you found your way here."

"I followed my nose. The smell of your place is bee-vine."

Snorting, she backed away from the hatch to allow him access to her room. "You'll have to be quiet. My parents are asleep."

"I will be as quiet as… bee," he said and dropped through the hatch.

With a smile, she stepped away. "Technically, bees aren't quiet."

"We can buzz softly."

She trotted down the stairs. It felt weird having him in her room, especially since she didn't really understand how she felt about him yet. Awkward and nice and strange all at once. But he didn't need to know that, so she had to pretend everything was fine. He was just a new hero and she was supposed to know nothing about him.

"Was that Transformers I heard?" Bumblebee asked.

Sprung, she hunched her shoulders. "Ahh."

"The music is a dead giveaway. Were you watching?"

"Yeah." She reddened. The eagerness in his face made her stomach flutter, a fluttering which eclipsed all the heart palpitations she'd had from Adrien earlier. Strange how quickly the feelings transferred across now she knew Chat Noir and Bumblebee were the same person. And she still wasn't sure if she liked it or not, especially since her Adrien crush hadn't gone away. Could she be crushing on both of them at the same time? "I needed a break from studying and some bee told me it was good."

He bounced. "Are you enjoying it?"

She watched him as he came down the stairs and stopped at the base. "It's… interesting. The action is exciting and the transformations are epic. But I could do without the gratuitous butt shots and tacky romance subplot."

Bumblebee stiffened, then chuckled. With an embarrassed look, he ran his hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Oh. Yeah. I'd forgotten about that."

"Those sound effects," she said and rested her hands on the back of her chair. "They're amazing. Especially when they're transforming."

"Oh, that's awesome, isn't it?" His demeanour lit up and he waved his arms around. "The whole neeerrroooowwwwmmmmm-wubwub—"

Marinette laughed at his attempt.

Disgruntled, Bumblebee patted his fuzz. "Oh, shuddup. You can't reproduce it either."

"I'm not silly enough to try, but I like that you did."

He gave her a dorky grin. "You do?"

"And the Bumblebee car; I can see why you named yourself after him."

Bumblebee tilted his head.

Marinette smiled. "It's cute. And it's not a Decepticon." There was meaning in the name too, if she looked hard enough.

Bumblebee grinned at her. "He's not. I thought it was fitting."

"I think so." She fixed her eyes on the yellow fuzz covering upper chest as Bumblebee ran his fingers through it. "Is that soft?"

"Huh?"

"Your fuzz. Is it soft? You seem to like patting it." She raised her eyebrows at him. "I noticed Chat Noir likes to play with his tail. Is it some sort of… hero costume fetish?"

His fingers stroked through the fuzz, somewhat of a nervous gesture now, while his other hand went to his hip. "I… don't actually know if it's soft," he said. "The gloves don't let me feel textures well."

That was odd because hers did allow for that, but maybe that was a perk from Tikki. She was reaching for his neck before he'd even finished the statement.

He adjusted his stance, leaning away. "Um…"

She drew back a fraction but left her hand up. "May I?"

Shrugging, he stepped closer so she could touch his fuzz. "Okay."

Marinette's fingers brushed against the fuzz near his collarbone, then sunk into it. It was like she was touching the ears of a kitten. Soft, divine, barely corporeal, her fingers tingled at the touch. Softer than velvet, lighter than candy floss, even rubbing it between her fingers she could barely feel it. Marinette had the luxury of touching chinchilla fur once and this was so much better. She wanted to bury her face it in, feel the texture against her cheek.

She couldn't see his eyes. Just herself in the reflection in his goggles. One lip caught between her teeth, her eyes half lidded. Oh, god. She was flirting with him. Not okay, that was not okay.

Except… he wasn't flirting back like Chat Noir would to Ladybug. Or the toned down flirting he would conduct with Marinette when begging for cookies. There was still the same sort of humour in his tone, but the body language felt different. That, in itself, was interesting. Had she done this at Ladybug, he'd be right in close to her by now, eyes intent, mischief clear on display, voice lowered to a purr.

Or maybe she was reading too much into the situation.

With effort, she pulled her hand away. "Wow… it's… incredibly soft."

"Really?" He preened and stroked his fingers through the fuzz again. "Well. Thanks."

"I would love to know how your suits are made," she said, dropping her eyes and looking away.

"Me too," he replied. "You're a designer, right?"

He wasn't doing a good job of pretending not to know her. "Did Chat tell you that?"

"Among other things."

"What other things?"

His fingers petted at his fuzz again. "All good things. You're nice, kind, give good scratches and always have a cookie and a smile available when he's hungry. You have a pretty cool sense of humour and you're not afraid to tease him like a friend would. He likes you."

Marinette felt her world tilt. She hadn't expected Chat Noir to notice those sorts of things about her. Her, not Ladybug. Fumbling for something to say, she glanced at the frozen screen. "Would you like to watch the rest with me?"

"I… ahh…"

Marinette cocked her head and put her hands on her hips. "You didn't come all this way to steal my cookies and then leave, did you?"

Judging by his expression, he absolutely had. "I'd love to watch the rest with you, would you mind if I raincheck it and maybe come back tomorrow for the sequel? I'm meeting Ladybug at sunset and I shouldn't keep her waiting. I just…" He squared his shoulders. "I wanted you to know I appreciated the article."

She regarded him. "I didn't write it."

"I don't know where Alya lives," he said. "You told me where you were. I also…" He adjusted his stance, appearing more eager. "You were very concerned about Chat Noir and I wanted to reassure you that he was okay."

She nodded. Watching him, there was no doubt now he was Chat Noir. He was being friendly and polite, maybe a little flirtatious… and kind of sweet to be worried about her, amongst all the people of Paris. Another check in the Chat Noir box for kindness. "I believe you, but thank you for thinking of me." She picked up the bag of cookies sitting on her desk. "Here. I had a study group today and this is what's left over. Give my regards to Ladybug."

He grinned at her. "Thank you, Marinette."

"You're welcome," she replied. She didn't know why it was easy to talk to Bumblebee while she was crushing on him, but… well, they were friends first. Maybe that made all the difference. "Now, buzz off."

"Oooh," Bumblebee said, smirking, and gave her double finger guns. "Nice one."

Marinette shook her head and shooed him up the stairs.

Thinking better of it, she followed and clambered out the hatch behind him.

"Are you waving me off?" he teased, offering her a hand.

Taking it, she let him pull her out of her bedroom. "Don't get a swollen head," she said, walking to the terrace railing so she could lean on it. "I'm going to watch the sunset."

"Ahh." Copying her stance, he leant against the railing beside her and peered out at Paris. "Do you do that often?"

"Sometimes," she said, resting her elbow on the railing, then her chin in her palm. "I like to watch the boats down La Seine. On nights like this, the colours inspire me."

"Sunsets are pretty," he responded. "The sky becomes ablaze with brilliant honey and poppies, blended so well you can almost taste the kaleidoscope of colours, then it fades to bluebells and lavender. Sunlight kisses the clouds goodbye and leaves the sky to romance the moon with bouquets of baby's breath stars."

Curse the little flutter nibbling away. He'd really taken to the whole bee persona, like Chat Noir did with cats, and she wondered at that. What would he be like as himself? "Are you always this big of a dork?"

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. Sometimes, I guess."

"Only sometimes? That was some pretty…" She bit her lip and then went for it. "Fuzz-tastic bee poetry right there. I suppose a bee would approve of flowers in the sky."

He laughed. "It's buzz-erific."

"Meow-velous."

Still smiling, he said, "Isn't that Chat's line?"

"He's not here. Someone has to bring in the cat puns."

"A-buzz-ing."

"Des-bee-cable."

Bumblebee snorted and nudged her with his hip. "Can't bee sting-gy with puns."

Marinette giggled. It was still him. More to the point, it was still them. And she could banter with him like she used to, even if she was twisted up into knots, crushing on Chat Noir didn't mute her in the same way her crush on Adrien did. That could only be a good thing. They could still be partners. It didn't have to affect them or change anything.

He grinned at her for a moment longer, then wiped it from his face. Taking a deep breath, he straightened. "It feels like it's going to be a good night, but I must take my leave."

Marinette watched him with veiled gaze. He seemed happy. Eager. It was a nice look on him.

What was she going to do? What was she going to say? She wanted to keep that look on his face and yet…

Would he be disappointed with this side of her? He didn't seem to be.

Sweeping into a bow, he lifted her free hand from the railing and pulled it up toward his mouth, intent to kiss the back. The action was so heartbreakingly him she felt her knees go weak. "Have a good evening, Marinette. Enjoy your—"

His expression lost its humour and he released her hand to take her shoulder instead. "Get indoors," he said, pushing her toward her hatch. "Stay there."

Rather than listen to him, Marinette turned and gasped.

La Seine was blanketed in a thick, red mist. The colour of blood, the mist bled into the water and billowed along the surface. It crept up the sides of the riverbanks, slowly engulfing the base of the Notre-Dame, where it slowly wafted up the sides. As Marinette watched, it slithered over the bank and crawled toward them.

Before Marinette could even speak, Bumblebee swept her into his arms and dropped her back inside her room. Squeaking in surprise, she bounced as she landed on the bed and stared up at him.

"Stay," he commanded.

"Wait!" she called before he could close her in.

He hesitated, casting a wild glance away, but politeness kept him there. "What?"

"Bee careful," she said, emphasising the 'bee'.

His jaw went slack for a moment before he recovered to grin at her. With a two fingered salute, he said, "I always am, princess," and closed the hatch.

"Yeah," she muttered, throwing her legs over the edge of her bed. "If I didn't know for sure before, I do now." She peered through her window from her loft and watched the mist creep along the ground. Something about the mist and the way it moved filled her with dread. Bumblebee fell down from her roof, past her window and landed on the pavement below.

Bumblebee dropped to all fours, Chat Noir style, and bounded to a mist free section of riverbank, launching himself across to Notre-Dame; a jump neither she nor Chat Noir would've been able to make without using their items but Bumblebee cleared with ease. She wondered if he had a tiny set of wings underneath all that fuzz. "Tikki?"

Soft paws on Marinette's shoulder and Tikki nuzzled into her neck. "I'm ready."

Marinette took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Clenching her hands into fists, she said, "Spots on."

Ladybug crept from her trap door, keeping out of sight as much as she could. It would be a bad thing if Bumblebee saw her coming from this direction. She could make him out, bright yellow against the fading sky, on top of Notre-Dame. He appeared to be watching the mist over the edge of the building. The mist itself had climbed about ten metres up the side of Notre-Dame before halting and while it billowed up the bank at this side of the river, it was no longer spreading. Whatever the mist was, it was focussing on Notre-Dame, slowly encircling it.

So that's where she needed to be.

Leaping from her terrace across to the school, she threw her yo-yo for Notre-Dame, twining it around one of the gargoyles at the top. Pulling back, she allowed the yo-yo to retract, pulling her with it.

Bumblebee met her on the roof, extending his hand to help pull her up. "Hello, honeybug. You look bee-utiful this evening."

She eyed him and refused to acknowledge the rising flush of her cheeks. Releasing his hand, she stepped away and peered over the edge at the mist. "That conversation we need to have will have to wait."

"I am capable of multitasking," he replied, with his patented wide smirk. "I can waggle and fight akuma at the same time."

She frowned and put her hands on her hips. "I think it's the sort of conversation that we need to focus completely on—"

He lost the playful attitude. "Promise me you won't run away after this," he implored. "We can find a place to de-transform where we can't see each other and the kwami can recharge but I need to talk to you."

"Bumblebee," she mumbled, trying to avoid confrontation. "I think—"

He touched her shoulder. "Please." He lifted his right hand so it was right in front of her face. "It's really important."

His bare right hand. The finger where his ring should sit was covered in black gloves with no hint a ring was hidden beneath the suit. She grabbed his hand and yanked it toward her so she could inspect it. "What happened?"

"It's missing," he said simply and she could hear the pain in his voice. Awkward, he adjusted his stance but didn't try to pull away from her.

Her thumb stroked against his hand where his ring should be. Keeping her tone carefully neutral, she fixed her eyes on his hand rather than looking at his face. "And Plagg?"

"Gone."

Her heart broke for him. Tears filled her eyes unbidden. What had he been through over the last few days? She could imagine how she'd feel if Tikki vanished. He'd been going through that alone, because she'd been an idiot and hadn't been willing to listen. "Oh Chat." Before she even realised what she was doing, she rose up on her toes, looped her arms beneath his until her palms cupped the back of his shoulders and were buried in fuzz, and hugged him. Resting her face in the crook of his neck, she breathed in his honey scent and ran her finger through his fuzz. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

Bumblebee held himself stiffly, then she felt a tentative hand on her waist. "Ladybug—"

"I haven't been a good friend. All I've been thinking about is how I was so alone and I didn't think you'd be feeling the same. I made things for you so much more difficult. I should've just listened."

He came at her all at once, like he'd been holding himself carefully in check and couldn't any long. He fell into her embrace, cradling her so tight he squeezed the breath out of her. Enveloped by his arms, she could feel the cool shape of his goggles as the side of them pressed against her cheek. Her toes no longer held her weight, he did as he pressed them both together to clutch at her.

She held him, because no matter how hard it had been for her without him while she'd been fighting akuma, he'd had it so much worse. Watching and unable to help, and then when he did find a way, she yelled at him, wouldn't listen and then ran.

She was here now. She could be here for him now.

The way he fell into this hug made her wonder how long it had been since someone had hugged him. Surely her happy-go-lucky cat had a whole stream of people who loved him, but he clutched her like she could vanish at any moment. And yet, there was tenderness. She was a precious thing, she was his precious thing and he was so careful.

She wanted to speak. Wanted to tell him it was okay. But she couldn't find her voice.

His voice cracked, his words husky as he murmured, "The akuma."

Yes. Of course. An akuma. The floaty red mist thing licking at the heels of the Notre-Dame. Except he wasn't letting go. His hands roamed along her back, keeping to neutral areas, while her traitorous fingers toyed with his fuzz.

Was he nuzzling her? She was sure that was his nose against her neck, along her jaw. His hands felt so warm where he brushed her with them. She could feel his heart beating through the wall of his chest and her own heart seemed to match its rhythm. The movement of his ribs and belly as his breathed echoed her own and when he swallowed, she felt it. She could feel it all, every tiny shift he made. Every movement, ever heartbeat.

She liked him. She liked holding him. She liked being held. Safe and warm, nothing could harm her here. She never realised how nice cuddling someone could be.

One hand lifted to her neck as Bumblebee raised his head and Ladybug felt herself tense. She wasn't ready. Not for this. Not for the thumb stroking her cheek. Not for his breath dancing against her face. Not for the way the butterflies in her stomach morphed into bugs and went mad with anticipation. Not for the enthralled yet tiny smile he gave her, or the wide-eyed reflection of herself in his goggles.

But… for all her indecision, she wanted him to try. If he tried, she would most likely throw herself whole-heartedly behind this. She'd missed him, more than she'd cared to admit and he'd only been gone a few days. Surely, if he were brave, if she was brave, this tangled mess inside her would unknot and give her an answer to the question she hadn't been aware she'd been asking.

Her fingers flexed against his shoulder blades and she lifted her chin.

A flash of something unreadable flittered across his face and pinched at the edges. His head turned and, with one final thumb stroke, he stepped back and released her.

He took the strength in her knees with him as he left. She dropped her hands to let him go and rocked back on her heels. She felt… disappointed. Sad. A moment had been discarded without cause.

"Right," he said, then had to clear his throat so his voice returned to its normal tone instead of husk. "We have an akuma to vanquish."

Had… she misread something? She'd thought he'd… and maybe he didn't… maybe… maybe the flirting was just flirting. Did he only flirt because she didn't reciprocate? Was she… was she a practice run for him?

She was so confused and heart sore. The pain in her chest felt very real and the tears pricking at her eyes stung. Maybe this was for the best. They were friends, partners, maybe this was all they were meant to be. Nothing had to change.

Embarrassed, she had to work hard to keep her tone even. "Any ideas?"

Stepping even further away from her, he peered over the edge. "Very ominous red mist and at Notre-Dame…" With a laugh that sounded forced, he tried to joke, "I wonder if Archdeacon Frollo has a hand in this."

Ladybug smile was weak, but she was grateful for the small sense of normality and tried to pick up their usual banter. "Well, maybe you should go and ring a bell, see what happens."

"Excuse me?" he asked and pretended to be affronted. "If anything, I'm Captain Phoebus."

"Shallow and self-centred and willing to let the girl die?"

He turned his head toward her. "I was going for blond and pretty."

She crossed her arms against her chest. Well, maybe he was blond and pretty, but she wasn't going to let him have that. "Have you read the book?"

He grinned. "I have! It's not often I met someone else who has."

"I'm over five thousand years old," she scoffed. "I was there when it was written."

He laughed. "Oh, that's right. Mighty Pharaohs cower before Ladybug, but she's never heard of a temporary replacement kwami before."

"Oh, shut up." She hesitated, then asked, "Is that what Bumblebee is?"

"Yup. Deedee is an emergency substitute kwami. I'll explain later."

She forced her eyes away from him and to the mist. It still licked the edges of the cathedral, spreading out across the river but it didn't seem to be moving anymore. She couldn't see anything lurking in the mist either. Akumas had to have form; they'd not had any who weren't corporeal. Invisible, yes, but not incorporeal. They needed shape and substance, but they could use the mist. "Is this one of those 'attack the darkness' situations? Do we fire blindly and hope to hit something?"

"Do you have a magic missile?" he quipped.

"Do you?" she countered.

"It's possible," he said, considering his hammer. "I'd turn into a pumpkin in about five minutes, though, and therefore be useless and I'd rather not do that until we know what we're dealing with."

"Plus, I'm guessing we need a physical body for that sting of yours to work."

He nodded. "Yeah, I don't think stinging mist would be very beneficial."

She pointed away from her. "Circle around the roof and scout. I don't really want to get stuck in red mist, so we need to know where to attack."

He nodded. "Someone has to be down in the mist making it."

"And we both know what happened last time one of us inhaled something from an akuma."

The grin died. "Yeah, yeah." Slipping the hammer back onto his hip, he bounded away.

She'd meant it as a joke. He'd taken it as something else. Reaching up, Ladybug gripped both her pigtails and let them support the weight of her arms as she watched Bumblebee. "Boys need a manual or something."

He paused and peered back at her. "What was that?"

Ladybug eeped and turned away, pretending to be engrossed in searching the mist. She held onto her pigtails as she walked as the pressure of her hair pulling against her scalp helped her think.

Nothing in the mist that Ladybug could see. No akuma lurching out of the red for them. No people reacting to the mist in odd ways, which, since it was nearly ten at night, the cathedral would be closed. But didn't people live here? A lingering priest or two. A caretaker maybe. She couldn't even see anyone. None of those.

Nor could she see the ground from this vantage point. It was engulfed in mist. If anyone was down there, they were shrouded from view.

The akuma was probably watching her, hidden in the mist, able to see out better than she could see in.

She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. That was a creepy thought.

She stopped and narrowed her eyes as she looked down at the mist. There was definitely something down there. The shape was right. It could be a figure, standing in the murk, looking up at her in the rapidly fading daylight.

Keeping her eyes fixed on the mist, she turned to call Bumblebee.

His name came out a strangled moan as the mist parted.

Chat Noir stood in a circle of clean air, the red mist billowing away to reveal him. Her Chat. Green eyes. Blond hair. Sassy smile. Black belt tail dusting the pavement below. Everything was him. Something ripped inside her and, as Chat Noir stretched out his hand toward her and smiled, Ladybug fell to her knees.

Author's Note:

The geography of Paris in Miraculous Ladybug is skewed. In a couple of scenes, Marinette is shown to be living across the river from Notre-Dame. In another, Adrien is shown pretty close to the Eiffel Tower (it could be off because distance and scale.) An aerial shot shows Marinette and Adrien to be within… probably a few minutes walking distance of each other.

But Marinette's also said to live in the 21eme, and there is no 21eme, they've essentially slotted in a new district… so, grain of salt on distance and locations.

I don't own Hunchback of Notre-Dame, but I have read it. The book is not nearly as happy as the movie.