Gabriel's first encounter with Queen Bee, as his hero self, had been about as pleasant as his previous encounters with Anne-Laure Lenoir.
"So that's the jackass you told me about?" the yellow-clad superheroine had asked Ladybug as she landed next to her on a rain-soaked roof, after what had been the most inefficient battle of their entire hero career.
The young Chat Noir could have been competent, even if it had only been his second day on the job. Unfortunately, his tools were inadequate. He had figured out on his first fight - just one night before - that the best way to use his magical sword was not to use it at all.
Heroes did not kill. Heroes did not harm. Oh, he was certain the blade would come in handy at some point, should he need to cut a rope or slice an obstacle in two. Against Akumatized civilians, however, the whole stabbing and slicing thing was ill-advised. His years of competitive fencing were of no use. He had to rely on hand-to-hand combat and, quite frankly, he was a wimp.
Chat Noir had joined his first battle because Ladybug was in trouble, with the plan to save her life and steal her heart in one fell swoop. He had ended up battered, bruised and rescued by the girl he had been trying to impress.
That second battle had gone about the same way, except Queen Bee had been there to witness it.
The 'jackass' remark had been delivered with a smirk, as Anne-Laure wrapped an arm around Ladybug's shoulders.
Chat Noir had grinned at that, while Gabriel's blood boiled under his mask.
"I did not say 'jackass'," Ladybug had corrected, arms crossed. "I said overconfident. "
"And then you described a jackass," Queen Bee had helpfully clarified.
Alice's concern about accuracy had not extended to denying her best friend's words.
There had been an awkward silence during which the young Ladybug had raised her chin to appear less nervous than she actually was. Bee had given Chat Noir her smuggest smile.
"Hey, no need to get stingy," he had told her, trying his best to sound nice and humorous and vaguely hurt.
That had not worked at all.
Ladybug had breathed in, growing tenser.
" Now ," she had cut in as Anne-Laure mumbled a 'never heard that one before', "we both remember how overwhelming the 'secret identity' thing can get, how you can get a little carried away at first. I'm sureChat Noir only needs a little time to adapt. "
"Why, Milady, I'm open to suggestions," Chat Noir had replied with a bow and a wink, taking that opportunity to get a step closer to her.
That had ticked at least five checkboxes on the 'jackass red flags' list.
Truth to be said, Gabriel had been trying his best to seduce her. He had not meant to come out as an insufferable jerk. It just so happened that he was not very good at flirting.
He had started out in life with three defining features: he was exceedingly ugly, exceedingly unpleasant, but also exceedingly rich. It meant that he had never needed to learn the subtleties of seduction, not even the pretty clean-cut basics like 'being nice to girls'. It had not been required of him. Girls were throwing themselves at him whether he wanted them to or not (sometimes seventeen times). His girlfriends had never expected him to be charming, friendly or even remotely engaging. They wanted one thing from him and, as long as he provided it, he got everything he wanted.
He was woefully unprepared to interacting with a girl who was no gold-digger. On top of that, he was a teenage boy. He was woefully unprepared to interacting with girls, period.
Ladybug had taken a step back.
"Well. You might be eager to help but you have to realize we have a dynamic, and if you don't pay attention to it, you will only slow us down," she had explained. "If you interfere again, I will take you out of the fight. Do I make myself clear?"
"Purrfectly."
Both the heroines had winced.
Decades had passed and he still remembered how much he had hated himself for that line and the reaction it had gotten him. Not that he had showed it.
"I want to improve," he had told Ladybug instead, pretending Bee wasn't there. "You could show me the ropes. Maybe let me join you on patrol."
As many introverted jackasses, Gabriel had not been the best with social clues. He did not care about them much and tended to miss obvious ones, such as how poorly received it was to totally ignore the closest friend of the girl you were flirting with. He had greatly improved at paying attention with the years. At sixteen, however, blinking neon arrows would not have been enough to make him understand how many points he was losing every time he opened his mouth.
Bee had scoffed at his words.
Ladybug had frowned, taking a long look at the sword hanging from his belt.
"I don't think patrol is a good idea," she had replied. "I don't think you can be trusted yet. Observe us from afar if you want to, handle the petty thieves and the cats in trees situations, but leave Hawk Moth to us for now. We'll get in touch with you if you're needed."
Her words had been punctuated by the beeping of her earrings.
Gabriel's ring had beeped a split second later.
"Time to go," Queen Bee had commented, giving Chat Noir a triumphant smirk. "Till we meet again, Sourpuss."
Ladybug's only goodbye had been a sharp nod, then her 'predestined partner', her supposed 'pendant' had watched her race away on the roofs, to vanish over the horizon with Bee speeding after her.
He had dropped into an alley to untransform and stood there shaking, fists clenched. After a moment, he had clasped his hands behind his back, pretending they weren't spasming in fury.
"This cannot happen again," he had told Plagg. "I need a different strategy to make up for the lack of a weapon. I find it very difficult to wrap my mind around the concept of long fights."
His first instinct was to land a single crippling blow to take the enemy out.
Not acceptable.
"You'll figure it out," his Kwami had replied, darting up with a mischievous smirk.
"W-wait! Where are you going ?"
"I don't know about you but I really want to see what the girl looks like."
###
Being in Miss Lenoir's presence was as disorienting as talking to her on the phone, if not more. She was special, if only for the fact that Gabriel did not murder her for keeping that cigarette lit. Instead, the designer had to walk down the stairs, join his old acquaintance and rip the cigarette from her hands. He then threw it to the ground.
"Let's just go inside," he said after a deep breath, rolling his eyes.
Adrien breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he wouldn't die, after all. This was not how his father reacted to people he wanted gone. Gabriel was very good at getting his point across.
The teenager followed the two adults inside, with his dad leading the way.
Miss Lenoir walked in and froze. Adrien nearly collided with her back. He took a step to the side and turned to her, concerned. She was staring at the family portrait at the top of the stairs.
"Gabriel, Jesus Christ," she whispered, raising her hand and dropping it on Adrien's head without looking his way.
She distractedly patted his head twice, then a third time, as he wriggled in unease.
Gabriel had not paid attention to her reaction at all. He had gone straight for Nathalie's desk, to tell her they had a visitor and that coffee would be required. When he turned back to Anne-Laure, it was to give her a puzzled frown. He followed her stare to the painting, his confusion growing. He mouthed a 'what now?'.
Clearly, he saw nothing wrong with the painting. Adrien was of the opinion the picture was gloomy and depressing, but was not sure it warranted swearing and pity. Then again, there was probably some history at play.
The retired Queen Bee took a deep breath and shook her head, grinning at Nathalie who was coming out of the office.
"Hi! Long time no see," the blonde said.
Nathalie retreated behind polite blankness, answering with a lukewarm 'Good afternoon, miss Lenoir. Will you be drinking coffee or would you prefer tea?'.
"Coffee, thanks!" Anne-Laure replied, walking into the office without waiting for an invitation.
She threw her army bag in a corner and sat on Nathalie's desk.
Gabriel pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. He stared at the ceiling for ten seconds at least.
"I'll join you in a moment, Anne-Laure. Adrien, a word, if you please," he said, pushing his son into the dining room and closing the door behind them.
The teenager clasped his hands behind his back and waited for him to speak.
His father frowned at the door. He turned to Adrien, looking ever so slightly dejected.
"As I'm sure you figured out who that is… The Bourgeois girl is not to hear about this visit, are we clear?"
There was actual concern in his voice. Considering he was talking about a girl he could not stand and would not meet, it was clear nothing good would happen if Chloé discovered her mother's presence in Paris.
Adrien nodded.
"Alright."
"I'll try to send Anne-Laure on her way before she can steal something or set the house on fire," Gabriel continued, still scowling despite the faint note of humor in his voice. "Try to stay out of her way."
"I'll be in my room," the young model promised.
He did go to his room, for a total of sixteen second. Roughly the time it took him to transform. Not a minute later, Chat Noir was hanging upside down next to the window of his father's office, ears wide open. All four of them.
"... San Francisco, mostly," miss Lenoir was saying. "Spent two months in Japan earlier this year, went to China too, you know I don't like to stay in one place for long."
"So I take it you won't be staying?" Gabriel replied, his voice laced with amusement.
"Hell no. I was planning to hitchhike my way to Italy, you know, pay a visit to Babyfox."
There was a silence, but Adrien did not dare peeking through the window to see what was going on. He waited.
"You didn't have to drop by," his father ended up saying, his tone quiet at first. It turned gruff. "I don't know what the boy told you, but I am doing just fine."
"Heh, I figured I might as well show up. Paris was on my way. And I was a bit curious about the kid, really. I've been watching those Ladyblog videos, he's a cutie. Plagg must be walking all over him."
The 'cutie' wrinkled his nose.
Gabriel chuckled.
"I wouldn't be so sure."
"You like him!" Anne-Laure exclaimed. "You do. Yes , you do." - That was pleasant to hear. - "So, what's he like?"
"He is a sweet, caring boy going through a severe identity crisis. He somehow convinced himself that his civilian personality does not actually exist, which is beyond asinine." - On his perch, Adrien winced. His father went on. -"But he'll get past that. Overall, I'd say he is a good match for Plagg."
The eavesdropping teenager grinned at that. It was heartwarming, even if he knew his father would not have been caught dead saying that to his face.
"I'm so going to try and catch a glimpse," miss Lenoir commented. She paused. Her tone changed. "He sounded really worried about you, Sourpuss. What's going on?"
" Nothing is going on," the designer sighed. "I am still looking for Alice, I asked for information from Tikki, and the boy grew overly concerned."
You could hear him roll his eyes. The lies were less obvious, but Adrien hoped miss Lenoir knew Gabriel well enough to see through them.
She didn't push.
"How is that going?" she asked instead.
There was another silence, longer. Chat Noir heard footsteps.
"I have nothing ," his father announced. "So I've been looking into Zharr's disappearance, since Hawk Moth might have been after that Miraculous. I'm going back to Brazil next week, try to figure out why Hawk Moth thought the area was worth investigating. You never know."
Adrien heard Anne-Laure take a deep breath and exhale.
"You can try … but damn it, Sourpuss. I trekked from one side to Pacaás Novos to the other for eight months after she vanished. It's the mother of all haystacks. You could search for decades and come up with nothing. You know that."
She got no answer. Chat Noir's sensitive ears were not enough to interpret the faint noises he heard.
Then miss Lenoir started swearing under her breath.
The young hero lowered himself by a few inches. He peeked into the office to see his father pacing from one side of the room to the other, gesturing in silence, fists opening and clenching as he shook in rage. It didn't take him long to collect himself, but even though he had stilled and quieted, Gabriel's face had a faraway look.
Miss Lenoir swore again, putting a hand on the previous Chat Noir's shoulder.
"Come on."
Adrien heaved himself up before one of them could notice him. His gut was twisting in worry.
He had not called Queen Bee for her to pick at his father's wounds, even if she was not doing so on purpose.
Gabriel clicked his tongue.
"I don't recall ever letting the arduousness of a task discourage me before."
"Want me to make a list, jackass? Cause we'll be here all day."
The barb seemed to lighten Gabriel's mood.
"Don't start throwing stones, Bee. We both know who has the most ammunition here."
"Fire away."
Adrien's father scoffed
"I am not going to stop looking. I am aware I might never find the slightest hint. It doesn't mean I should stop."
"When did I ever say you should stop?" miss Lenoir replied, aggravated. "We've all been looking. Okay, maybe not me, but it's not like I don't check the area every six months or so. Fu searched for her. Even Mona tried, though you know how her health was. She was family. D'you think I'd expect you to drop it?"
Adrien let all of that sink in, particularly the news that master Fu himself had been investigating his mother's disappearance and had not said a word about it.
Silence fell.
Whatever happened next happened through looks and gestures, because he heard nothing at all but the conversation started again.
"What do you have on Zharr?" Anne-Laure asked.
"Next to nothing. Pictures of the last Firebird. Art of the one before. News clippings from the 19th century. What does Fu have?"
"I have no clue. I figure if there was ever a lead, he checked it. Now, though, he's no longer looking into that."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean Fu is looking for a new Turtle, or at least that's what I gathered when I emailed Volpina's granddaughter last week. I can't say it comes as a surprise."
"That would be why the young heroes have had such a hard time contacting him," Gabriel mused, his tone detached. He dismissed the topic entirely. "Any news of Waspp?"
Adrien still remembered the light, unconcerned way the woman had answered his own questions about the bee Kwami. 'I handed the Miraculous to some Hawaiian kid thirteen years ago or so'.
The contrast was striking when she replied to Gabriel.
"Well, with some luck, she wasn't pulverized along with David."
Chat Noir's stomach lurched.
Gabriel sighed.
"I'm sorry," he told her.
"Water under the bridge," she muttered. "I talked to that kid twice, I'm not losing sleep over it. Still, the best bet is that Waspp is stuck under a rock somewhere in the Pacific Ocean."
"I'm sure she'll surface," Adrien's father commented, voice barely above a whisper.
"She always does. Hey, think I could borrow one of your fancy showers for a while? I walked here from the airport and I... " - She sniffed. - "... stink like a sewer drain."
"Yes, Bee. Of course, Bee. Don't steal anything on the way."
###
The teleporters got the short end of the stick.
Paper Cute had not known about the net under the Pont de la Concorde, because it had not been there a week before. It had not been there for long after her drowning, either. She had not meant to get trapped between it and drifting debris. She had not meant to drop into the water to begin with, from what Alice had inferred. Only surprise could explain how an Akuma armed with a blade that could cut through steel could be restrained by mere rope.
Alice had returned home at midnight and found her husband attempting to teach their two year old son how to read. She had been too crushed to comment on how two year old children were supposed to have bedtimes (a concept Gabriel no longer understood).
Adrien had not cared much about the letters, even if his father had been trying to get him to spell 'Maya'. He had been telling his father all about Simba. The boy had an affinity for felines that made his father proud (Alice used the word 'smug' to describe his exact state of mind).
Upon seeing his mother, Adrien had jumped out of Gabriel's arms to trot to her, hugging her leg. She had picked him up and hugged him. Her eyes had remained empty.
"Did you have fun tonight?" she had asked.
"I wash Simmha," Adrien had exclaimed, waving at the television.
"You watched Simba ?" Alice had repeated with fake glee, at which point Gabriel had collected their son from her arms, knowing she was about to break down.
"Time to go to bed, Adrien," he had announced, whirling to the door and making sure the boy could not see the look on his mother's face. "Let's get you Maya."
With some coaxing and some guile, he had managed to get the toddler into bed. Adrien had even promised to stay in it.
After that, Gabriel had followed the sound of running water to the bathroom, where he had found his wife curled up in a ball under the shower. Greyish dirt was washing out of her hair.
"The victim drowned," she had told him, in a voice devoid of emotion.
It was a hard blow, made even harder by her expectation that she would never have to watch one of Hawk Moth's victims die again. Unfortunately, while he was gone, remnants of Bella's magic were spread all over town, in long hidden Akuma that infected people at random. They had appeared frequently in the first weeks after Hawk Moth's defeat. Now, they only showed up every few months, less and less often.
Gabriel had removed his shirt and shoes to join his wife, sitting on the tiled floor under a stream of lukewarm water. Carefully, he had put his hands on her shoulders, brushing her hair to the side until she had relaxed enough to let him hold her. Which he had done, pressing himself against her back and rocking back and forth with her.
"She just." Alice had gasped. "She trapped herself. I think she teleported l-lower than she meant to. B-breathed water in."
Gabriel had held her closer, pressing his lips to her temple.
"I c-couldn't even find the fetish," she had snapped. "I couldn't even do that."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," he had murmured. "I'll help you look. I'm sure it will surface."
He had known it would not.
###
Nathalie walked into Gabriel's bedroom to retrieve the earrings she had left there in the morning.
She froze.
Her thoughts rearranged themselves into boxes and arrows and Arial 10 letters.
Are the security cameras working?
Yes.
Did I keep an eye on the security footage since Anne-Laure Lenoir grappling-hooked her way into the mansion?
Yes.
Did I see her lock herself into a bathroom?
Yes.
Did she ever walk out of that bathroom?
No.
"How did you get in here?" Nathalie exclaimed, staring at her employer's 'old friend', who was browsing through his drawers.
The blonde took a step away from the desk she had been rummaging through, frowning at Nathalie. Her hands slipped back to her hips, the left one closing over the candy cane stuck between her belt and her jeans.
She did not answer.
Nathalie straightened her spine and squared her shoulders.
"Whatever you stole, I suggest you hand it back right now," she said, turning her tablet on. "Though we will still have to see if mister Agreste wishes to call the police."
Anne-Laure sighed in annoyance, with the same air of bored rebellion that had been her go-to expression in her early twenties. Not that Nathalie had known her well. The woman had left town right after her daughter's birth, and that couldn't have been more than a year after Nathalie had started working for Gabriel. Not even a year, really. Chloé and Adrien were very close in age.
"He has a watch," Anne-Laure stated. "A silver watch. Antique. Glows pink, shows a butterfly hologram. You might have seen it."
Nathalie's mind went blank. Entirely blank. The diagrams faded, so did her thoughts. She recovered quickly enough, but only felt surreal calmness.
Anne-Laure had been Alice's closest friend.
What did she know?
"I'm listening."
"If you know where to keep it, you need to take it and hand it over to Ladybug and Chat Noir. He should not have that thing in his possession."
Nathalie keep her expression neutral. She clasped her hands behind her back.
"Why?"
"Because, long story short, that's a magical gadget that'll get him killed. The heroes should have it."
Gabriel's assistant pursed her lips. She took a deep breath. She stared at a point into the distance, at the level of Lenoir's knees.
"First things first, he keeps the watch on his person at all times. He is very cautious with it."
That announcement got her an exasperated scoff.
" Furthermore ," Nathalie continued, "I am not going to go behind his back and steal it from him."
"Trust me here, you have no idea what kind of a mess he's in. There's a lot of things you don't know about Gabriel, and-"
"What I know," Nathalie cut in, taking a gamble, "is that if that watch goes missing, not only will he find another way to track Hawk Moth down, but he will also make sure no one can find out about it. He will turn his back on whatever tenuous connection Chat Noir managed to create between them. It would make things worse ."
"You know what the watch does?" Anne-Laure exclaimed, staring at her in disbelief. She opened and closed her mouth. "He told you what the watch does?"
"Did he tell you ?"
She made sure to remain collected, schooling her features into a perfectly blank mask.
The blonde seized her up, studying her face with a deepening frown. There was no reading Nathalie. She had practiced her poker face for decades now, against much more perceptive individuals than Lenoir.
"What do you know?" the visitor asked, her tone cautious yet combative.
"What do you know?"
"Are we gonna play that game? Because you should know I don't fold."
That was pure bravado. She would fold. The woman did not know how to keep her temper in check. On top of that, she was both curious and concerned. It showed.
Gabriel's assistant raised her eyebrows and gave the blonde a dubious look.
Anne-Laure rolled her eyes. She clenched her jaw. She bit the inside of her cheeks, staring at a corner of the ceiling then at the dresser. As most people with a volatile disposition, she couldn't take the silence. Her impatience would get the better of her every time.
"Listen, I just want to keep the jerk from getting himself killed!" she snapped without meeting Nathalie's eyes. "What do you care what the hell I know? I know more than you do. "
"Yet you clearly don't know enough if you can't see that Gabriel is not a man you stop ."
Lenoir sneered.
"No. Shit. Doesn't mean I can just let him commit suicide. Sometimes, you have to give people a solid shove to stop them from acting like total idiots."
"Not Gabriel ," Nathalie snarled. She ran her tongue against the roof of her mouth. When she spoke again, her tone was collected. "You cannot force him into anything because he cannot stand it. And you cannot convince him of anything , because he has never and will never listen to anyone. If he has something to gain…" - Images flashed through Nathalie's mind, of Gabriel and Alice screaming at each other, and falling back into marital bliss for a few weeks or days. - "If he has something to gain, he will pretend to comply and go behind your back every single time." - Look. At. Your. Son. - "If he actually cares, he might try his hardest… until he burns out, that is. But, at the end of the day, the only way to get Gabriel to do anything is to let him decide to on his own."
She bit her tongue. She had not meant for her tirade to be so long or to reveal quite as much.
Anne-Laure gave her a quizzical look but did not comment. The woman pursed her lips, eyes glazing over as she analyzed Nathalie's words.
Nathalie did not give her the time to respond to them.
"Why are you here, miss Lenoir?"
"I'm here because a little kid in spandex called me to tell me my 'old friend' wasn't doing so well." - She shrugged. - "I was long overdue for a visit, anyway."
"Why you? You have been gone for fifteen years. You are not the first person I would have thought of."
"Gabriel dropped my name at random in a conversation, apparently. I didn't question the kid."
"Once again," Nathalie insisted, "but taking into consideration how well informed you are on the magical artefacts my employer owns, and how I am aware of Mrs Agreste's… singular hobby ."
Nathalie's awareness of the existence of the watch and of its use had surprised Anne-Laure. This revelation left her shell-shocked.
"He told you," she said.
A handful of seconds went by.
"He told you," she repeated. Then she squinted. "Wait. Singular hobby, you'll have to be clearer."
"A fondness for red and ribbons."
The blonde gaped, blinking over and over again. She ended up bursting into laughter.
"Well I'll be... " - She snorted and coughed. - "... damned."
She didn't manage to stop laughing. Nathalie felt herself cross her arms. It took an eternity for Anne-Laure to calm down. When she did, she waved her hand and shook her head.
"The kitten called me because I'm the only other superhero he managed to get in touch with," she explained. "Queen Bee. Retired, just in case it's not blatant from the grappling hook thing. I wish I could still fly."
Now they were getting somewhere.
Nathalie did not remember much about Queen Bee. She did not remember much about Alice's Ladybug either. Years had gone by. The two heroines had been camera-shy, too. They had not bothered giving interviews and entertaining the press. On top of that, teenage Nathalie had never cared much about superheroes and magic. It had all been background noise to her, bothersome. She loved the void and he quiet. She loved the uncomplicated. She loved normalcy.
In the current circumstances, she needed competent help.
"Are there others like you?" she asked. "Adults? Adults with less…" - She clicked her tongue. - "... with a subtler approach of sensitive issues?"
Anne-Laure sat on the corner of the bed (dropped on it, more exactly). She snorted.
"No. There's just the kids, now. The bug, the kitten, and the baby fox in Rome. Sorry to disappoint, and thanks for the vote of confidence."
Nathalie rolled her eyes.
"I don't want you to intervene for the exact same reason I told that Ladybug girl to stay away. I'm not going to let her meddle in and turn a precarious situation into a disaster, and the same goes for you . I've been trying my hardest to help Gabriel out of this mess. There is visible progress, just ask Adrien. I won't allow anyone to compromise that."
Lenoir breathed in, wincing.
"Jesus Christ, this again." - She pursed her lips, looking pained. - "Listen. I'm sure there's visible progress. But you've no idea what you're dealing with here, and he just… You have no clue how often I heard that exact same thing. Which was every two damn months for the best part of a decade . And I swear I wish you the best. Hell, I want your 'subtler approach' to work. D'you think I like to see him miserable? But I'd rather take that watch away so he can't go after Hawk Moth the next time something sets him off, which will happen because it always, always does !"
Nathalie bit down on her lower lip. She swallowed and clenched her belly, as if it could smother the ball of anxiety that was twisting and turning in her stomach.
Every two damn months for the best part of a decade. Because Alice had been there before, of course, hoping for a change, for lasting change.
The idea was sickening.
Then again, Nathalie had faced Fortune 500 CEOs and enraged rock stars and flown above the skies of Paris in a man-sized soap bubble and dealt with stalkers and death threats and paparazzi and she was a competent adult and no one could prove otherwise.
She could handle this.
"Be that as it may," she said.
That was as far as she got.
Anne-Laure looked at her, wrinkling her overly tanned nose (nearly burned, really, with the paler mark of ever present sunglasses. The woman needed makeup.).
"Be that as it may?"
Nathalie clasped her hands behind her back and dug her nails into her wrist.
"Be that as it may, the only assistance you should give now will have to be limited to friendly conversations. If he snaps, then intervene. In the meantime, let me deal with this. I have things under control."
What a lie that was.
Anne-Laure rolled her eyes.
"Fine. Fine ", she snapped. "But don't ever say I didn't warn you."
"I won't," Nathalie replied, showing none of her doubts and distress.
The retired heroine nodded, pulled her candy cane out of her belt and vanished.
###