In the back room of the Corinth, the friends of the ABC were ready to call a meeting. However, just as Enjolras was about to start speaking, it was noticed that Jehan had gone missing, and nobody seemed to know where he was.

"I saw him yesterday," offered Courfeyrac, "he said he'd be here."

"Maybe he's dead," said Joly, dolefully, "This is such a dirty city. Who knows what he might have picked up?"

"He can't be dead, I told you I saw him yesterday!" Courfeyrac said, "what would have set on so fast?"

"Speckled gout pox," said Joly, "It'll kill you in two hours."

"There's no such thing," snapped Courfeyrac, "you made that up."

"Well, I did work for a man once," said Feuilly, "Who was absolutely fine one day and dead the next."

"Still," said Courfeyrac, "There's no such thing as-"

"Shut up," Grantaire interrupted, who was slightly less drunk than usual, " wanna hear Enjolras talk."

Enjolras glanced at Combeferre, and nodded.

"If he's missing, we should split up and find him," he said, but just then, the door burst open and Jehan Prouvaire burst in, clutching a clay flower pot.

"Sorry," he said, sliding into a chair between Courfeyrac and Joly. Everyone around the table stared for awhile at the strange plant in the pot. The room was completely silent until Courfeyrac spoke.

"Jehan, what the hell is that?"

It was a large, pale green plant with a skinny stem. Instead of a flower, however, a bean-shaped bulb grew on one end. It was split open, and lined with cruel looking teeth.

"Dionaea muscipula. Otherwise known as a Venus Flytrap." Jehan stroked the outside of the mouth lovingly, "His name is Fang."

They all gathered around Jehan's new plant.

"Surely it's not real," said Courfeyrac.

"Actually, I worked for a man once, who knew someone who had a cousin in America," said Feuilly, "Who'd seen one of these."

As they watched, a fly that had been buzzing around the room had the misfortune to land in Fang's mouth. It snapped shut. Joly inched away nervously.

"You know," said Courfeyrac, "It's actually kind of cute."

The meeting progressed as usual, although everyone (save Grantaire, who was absolutely enraptured in Enjolras), kept shooting suspicious glanced toward Fang. Jehan was rather proud of his new plant, and carried it everywhere with him. It was even rumored that he slept with his arms curled around it.

Everyone soon got used to Fang, though Joly swore that it was just waiting to eat them all. His suspicions were further confirmed when, several days later, they gathered in the room of the Corinth to find Jehan missing. In his place was Fang, who looked rather bloated.

"Not again," said Courfeyrac, "Where does that man get to?"

Joly, however, stood horror-stricken, staring at the plant.

"J-Jehan?"

"Oh, come off it!" said Courfeyrac, "It's just a cute little carnivorous plant. "

"It ate Jehan! I mean, he wouldn't go anywhere without it. Why would he leave it here? Oh, I knew this would happen!" With each word, Joly's voice raised in pitch.

"But it can't eat him! It's too small."

"Well," said Feuilly, "Remember the man I worked for who knew someone who had a cousin who'd seen one of those? The cousin recently stopped writing."

"I told you," whispered Joly.

"You're being stupid." Courfeyrac stepped toward the table and picked up the plant. He stepped toward Joly with it.

"Get that away from me. I don't want it to eat me, too!" In a quick, fluid movement, Joly reached forward, ripped the pot from Courfeyrac's hand, and began attempting to pry Fang's mouth open.

"Don't worry, Jehan, I'll get you out!"

When Fang's jaws proved too strong for him, he flung the pot with all his might against the wall. It smashed and scattered pottery and dirt on the floor.

"Ahh! What are you doing?" Jehan appeared at the door, and was staring in horror at the scene before him. He fairly trampled Grantaire, who was dead drunk on the floor, as he ran to the wall. He scooped up the dirt and what was left of Fang in his hands, sobbing.

"Now see what you've done?" hissed Courfeyrac to Joly. Joly looked about the room helplessly. Suddenly, he grabbed the empty bottle from Grantaire's hand and brought it over to Jehan.

"Maybe we can save him," he offered, breaking off the neck of the bottle. He began to gather dirt and pack it into the bottle. Jehan wiped his eyes and helped him. Gently, he cleared a hole in the dirt and gently picked up Fang.

"Would you like to do the honors?" He held the limp flytrap toward Joly, who smiled and took it. He placed Fang in his new home and patted the dirt down around him. Fang seemed perfectly happy, though a bit lopsided.

Very carefully, Jehan carried the plant to his spot at the table. He giggled like a little boy, gently stroking the closed and slightly dented mouth.

"You're right, Courfeyrac," said Joly, "It is kind of cute."