Due to the unforseen popularity of my Day in the Life, I decided to post my others... heh

Javert sat straight up in bed, ready to face the day and all its criminals. Hastily running a worn brush through hair he still believed was brown as he read his assignments, he smoothly drew on his customary dress. After all, when one has been wearing the exact same wardrobe for upwards of twenty years, it becomes second nature. Lastly, the coat, and he was ready to go out.

At the same time, in a place and time far distant from Javert, another person was performing a similar morning ritual, but with considerably less zeal. Her name is Tanqueray, and she is a self insert. (If you do not like this, get the #$ out now! I'm sorry, but you have been warned! Also, she is not a Marie-Suzette, as she is a bumbling crazy person. Because she is me. Sorry for that interruption.) Anyway. With the alarm clock blaring, her pair of cats meowing and clambering over her, the guinea-pigs screeching away, this was by no means her ideal wakeup. However, as she peeled off her light-blocking-mask-thing, she remembered that it was the last day of summer, full of schoollessness, and she was going to see Jori, a fellow Les Mis nut. In fact, they were planning to walk over the bridge, singing and giggling like the fan girls they are. Smiling contentedly as she fed the animals, Tanqueray prepared to face the day. To dress, she tossed on a pair of khaki cargo pants, and a vest, with a dark duster over top, and riding boots. This was her Javert outfit, and ridiculously hot for the day.

That he, Javert, should have been saved by a convict... He couldn't even begin to fathom it. It must be some sick sort of revenge. Or, the man was tired of the relentless pursuit, and was attempting to end it. Well! That would certainly never happen, not until Valjean was returned to jail, where he belonged! Or... No. That this man, this convict, could have saved Javert out of kindness... There was no way for him to comprehend this, so he didn't bother. But the thought kept returning to him. No matter how quickly he walked, this relentless shadow was always a step behind him. He could no longer think. With dark and frantic energy, Javert attempted to maintain his usual routine, but Valjean wouldn't leave him alone! He tried reading, humming, all out singing, stomping around, arresting some prostitutes. Nothing helped. There was, to Javert, only one solution: Death.

"Jorvert!"
Tanqueray's companion looked up, bemused. "What?"
With a little fangirlish titter, Tanqueray answered, "Jorvert! I just came up with it. Yay for me!"
Jori, newly christened Jorvert, thought for a moment, staring at the brown muck coating the bottom of the shallow river. Finally, with a wicked grin, she exclaimed, "Then you can be Tanqnardier!"
With a playful growl, Tanqueray rounded on her friend. "Hey! At least we both like Javert. Or, I do. I think you do... Anyway. At best, the Thenardiers are mildly amusing..."
They would have gone on this way for some time, had Tanqueray's thumb ring not chosen that instant to fall into the water. As chance would have it, the ring landed on top of a small block of wood. As she scooped up the ring, Tanqueray contemplated the wood, comparing it (of course) to Javert's heart...

Over the railing. Why have it there? Only a drunk would fall, and good riddance. Anyone else who wanted to could scale it easily enough. A thick, black smoke filled Javert's mind, clouding his vision. Out of the smoke walked Valjean, causing the source of the smoke to be revealed. Javert's heart, which had so long know to be wooden, was burning. Eyes closed in resignation, Javert leaned forward.

A heart made of wood can only burn.

A moment after slipping the ring back on and thinking that unusual thought, Tanqueray was startled by a tremendous splash from the center of the river. Both she and Jori glanced up, trying to find the source. Once found, they burst out laughing.
In the middle of the river, a largish man was flailing around, face down. This would have been tragic, were it not for the fact that the water was no more than two feet deep. This simply made it ridiculous.
Rolling her eyes, Tanqueray turned to Jori. "People are so weird... Guess we should 'save' him."
Not even bothering to roll up her pants, as it was hot enough that wet pants would be appreciated, Tanqueray abandoned her shoes and strode into the water, grimacing at the slime covered bottom. Taking a huge breath of air, she yelled to the man "STAND UP YOU DUMBASS!!!"
The man was too busy splashing to hear.
With a final mock exasperated glance back at Jori, Tanqueray strode further into the river, until she reached the man. Grabbing him by the collar of his sodden wool greatcoat, Tanqueray hauled him up. She stared at him. The man, looking bewildered and forlorn as all hell, stared back. Two rivulets of water ran down his sideburns, down the formidable jaw, to drip onto the already soaked coat.
Pausing, almost letting the man fall again, Tanqueray contemplated. Sideburns... Hmmmm... With a sudden shriek of delight, causing the man in front of her to yelp and jump back, Tanqueray threw herself at the man. Who was, of course, Javert. Yay.
Startled by Tanqueray's cry, Jori threw herself into the water, half wading, half swimming to save her friend from... The man she was frantically hugging... After a brief moment of contemplation and yet another scream of glee, Jori also dove onto Javert, successfully knocking them all over into the mud.

Javert fell, waiting for that glorious release that would await him in the water below. Instead, he found himself floundering about in shallow water with his face stuck in some disgusting muck. Finding himself hauled to his feet, he stared at the young blonde boy in front of him. No... The boy had breasts. But it was wearing trousers! Resisting an urge to scratch his head, Javert stared at the...thing...Just then, it let out a horrid shriek, flung itself at him, and started (horror of horrors) nuzzling him. As he attempted to shove/beat her away, a fellow creature launched itself at him, knocking them all back into the mud.

Jori, with much flailing, gagging and muttering about the damn mud, was the first to stand. Followed by Javert, with more of the same, with a healthy dose of G.O.D. (Glare o' Death), guaranteed to stop a convict at 50 paces. Tanqueray, with a sound between a sigh and self-effasive laugh, scrambled gracefully to her feet. Until, that is, her gripless boots met the mud. This time, at least, she fell face up...
Jori, trying (and failing), her hardest to keep from laughing, offered a hand up. Tanqueray, once she had risen and could speak again, turned to her friend, Javert ignored for the moment.
"Y'know what this reminds me of?"
"Mmm?"
Javert, trying to maintain as much dignity as a soaked, muddy and bewildered man can, just looked pissed off.
"Skiing," Tanqueray continued, "remember, that mogel took me out, and my ski fell off..."
Javert's face went so impossibly blank that he resembled a poorly-carved statue. Of an angry, perplexed god. Of water. Both girls began laughing insanely.
"Um... Sorry... Jori, you'll never believe who this is!!!"
"The guy who plays Javert, standing in the river in costume?"
"No! It is Javert!"
"Uh..."
Reaching up to grab Javert's shoulders, Tanqueray spun him slowly, trying to hold her frantic bouncing in.
"Oh my god, it is him!!!!"
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!!" Javert spoke at last, startling both girls into falling over again.
"W-well..." Tanqueray began, "you tried to commit suicide..."
"I know that, you imbecile!"
Tanqueray wasn't sure whether to be insulted, or just damned happy that Javert was talking to her... She settled for happy, she had always been difficult to insult.
Somewhat cowed, Jori continued. "But, you didn't die. You...ended up here, somehow."
"This is not Paris." It wasn't a question.
"N-not exactly... It's, uh, Saskatoon..."
"Saskatchewan. Canada." Jori added, watching Javert's face.
"Merde..."
"Uh, one more thing... It's not 1832..."
"I was in a coma? For how long? I don't appear any older... How did I end up in this river, wearing the same clothing?"
Jori stifled a giggle. that's, uh, one way of putting it..."
Interrupting, Tanqueray muttered, "It's 2004..."
"What?!" shrieked Javert. "You. People. Are. Insane. I should have the pair of you arrested, if I were not more concerned with getting the hell away!" With that, he swept away in a grey, dripping swirl.

"Damn... We'd better..."
"Not let him get away?"
Tanqueray grinned. "That too. But I meant, make sure he doesn't die or anything..."
"Ah, yes."
With a shared look of panic, they raced after the Inspector.

At first, our dear Inspector had been certain that these strange, youthful creatures were boys. After all, they were wearing pantaloons (How I love that word!) and one was even wearing a long coat, not unlike his own. However, as his eyes, honed by years of police work, examined the pair more closely, he saw that they were, indeed, female. Deciding that they must be prostitutes, he had been about to arrest them, when the closer one in the coat launched herself at him. After this, self-preservation became his top priority.
After leaving our heroines, the good Inspector raced to the top of the bank, and began to run across a strange, rocky path. Glancing up, he saw a horseless carriage racing towards him, with no sign of stopping, emitting several horrible and frightfully loud sounds. With all the trauma of the past hours, Javert collapsed on the sidewalk.

"Ah ha! Jori, look down!"
"Look down, don't look 'em in the eye..."
Tanqueray sighed in mock-exasperation. "No no no. Well, yes yes yes, but no no no. I mean, gah... Just, look down. Look in the downward direction. You know what I mean."
"By some miracle..." Trying to take another step before looking down, Jori stumbled over something. It was large, and heavy, and wet, and... "Javert!! Is he ok?"
"Well (ha ha ha, take THIS Vinay. Even though I love you. In a Platonic way... Ummm...) committing suicide and ending up in Saskatoon 200 years later, plus being in a humorous fanfiction, can all add up to change one's character rather substancially..."
"I just meant, is he ok. Physically."
"Ah. Yes. He is. He must have passed out. We should prob'ly take him to that grass and take his clothes off."
Jori's eyes bulged, and she gave an 'oh-dear-god' face. "Oh, dear God..."
"Jori."
"Tanqueray."
"I meant, his jacket and stuff. So they can dry."
"Suuuure..."
"Ok, mostly..."
Being somewhat heavy, it took the girls a while to drag Javert to the grass, and once there, other problems emerged. Such as: "What'll we do with him?"