I wasn't going to post this, because I didn't think it was that good, but I've gotten a number of compliments on the way I write Marius and Courfeyrac, so I decided to give it a shot.

"Marius, for God's sake, it's two o'clock in the afternoon, wake up!"

"I am awake," Marius mumbled.

Courfeyrac hoisted him up from the tiny round table and thrust him in the direction of the window.

"Prove it, then!" Courfeyrac laughed animatedly, clapping Marius on the back. Marius, half asleep, despite his statement that he was otherwise, stumbled over.

Courfeyrac clucked his teeth, stooping down to help his friend to his feet. "Suppose it's my fault anyways," he said thoughtfully. "I drag you inside this dingy place so often you're forgotten what daylight looked like." Chuckling, he added, "Ah, the Café Musain! She claims the best of the Parisian youth!"

The formidable proprietress, earnestly polishing a wineglass behind the counter, grunted back, "If you don't like it, then you're welcome to leave! You boys are more trouble than you're worth!"

"Oh, come now," Courfeyrac replied. "That whole business with Grantaire last week won you many a patron!"

"Also cost me many a wineglass and two doors. Get out, Courfeyrac!"

The addressed shrugged. "I will oblige," he answered. "Come on, Marius, I suppose our meeting with Enjolras will simply have to wait for another day."

The students left the café. Walking the streets of Paris, Marius was silent. Courfeyrac tried several times to initiate some sort of conversation with him, but each time he was rebutted with Marius' stubborn silence. Finally, he could not take it anymore.

"Marius, what is it?" he cried.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Marius, ever since that incident with Grantaire and Enjolras, you've been acting so strange! My friend, there must be some that's ailing you; you've quiet, even for you! I mean-oh, I know…" Courfeyrac broke off, a mischievous grin forming on his lips.

"What?" Marius asked, worried already.

Courfeyrac laughed, and put his arms around Marius' slender shoulders. "I know what it is. I know what you need!"

"What?"

"Oh, come now! I'm sure you know."

"I can assure you I don't."

Courfeyrac cast a sly, sidelong glance at his companion, and declared triumphantly, "Marius, you need a woman!"

"What?!"

"That's it! That's exactly it! Don't deny it, Pontmercy!"

"No," Marius said flatly.

"Come on, friend, just think! Blonde hair, creamy white skin, slender waist, a beautiful voice-"

"Stop it, you may as well be describing Enjolras! And NO."

"What is it about Enjolras?" Courfeyrac mused, scratching his chin. "Anyhow, this isn't about him. It's about you. How do you like them? Tall, short, skinny, round, blonde, brunette; between Grantaire and I, we know hundreds of them!"

Marius recoiled in fright. "Don't get Grantaire involved!" he exclaimed.

Courfeyrac acquiesced. "Alright then, change 'hundreds' to 'scores,' but your options remain the same."

"No," said Marius.

"Yes," said Courfeyrac. "You'll fetch a great one, what with your clean good looks. One glance from your dark eyes should have any self-respecting girl at your feet in under a minute."

"But I don't want that-"

"Of course you do, you're a man. Now come with me." And Courfeyrac dragged Marius away, leaving cries of "No, no!' echoing behind them.