Author's note: Welcome friends, to the world of France in the early 1800s. This tale is Javert-centric, so if you're not a fan, you may not like this tale. Then again, maybe you will. Try it out!

As Inspector Javert left the room where Sister Simplice had been praying, it occurred to him that she could have lied about seeing anyone. No, he thought. Nuns, and especially that nun, are well known for telling the truth. But then where was Valjean?

Javert got slowly into a waiting carriage. The four policemen who had come with him looked at him for directions. He gazed out at the foggy night. Somewhere out there, he thought, a convict is escaping the arm of the law. He gripped his policeman's baton tightly. That shouldn't happen! Suddenly he noticed that the others were looking at him. He gave a slight sigh.

"Return to the station!" he barked. 'You, sergeant, make plans to return here tomorrow to inspect the room."

The carriage started off. No one talked for about a minute, than the other policemen began to talk about what they would do that night. Javert continued to look out the window, thinking about what Valjean might do, and where he'd go. Chances were that he would go to Paris: Paris is a haven for people who were trying to hide. The only thing he had to do now was actually get transferred to Paris. Now that Valjean was gone from Montreuil-sur-mer, there was no point in staying. M. Chabouillet got Javert his first job, and perhaps he would help him again.

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Monsieur Chabouillet was glad that the Police Inspector Phillipe Javert wanted to come to Paris: Javert was a well respected officer in Paris. He was committed to his job, and never asked for slack. Chabouillet glanced at the schedule a secretary had written out, and saw that Javert was coming today.

There's no doubt as to what I should give him to do, though Chabouillet. Mademoiselle Thorbeau has given us troubles for long enough. Let's see how well her charms stand up to Javert.

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Javert walked quickly up the steps into the Prefecture de Police. He entered the prefecture and went through the small entrance hallway to M. Chabouillet's door. He reached for the knob, than paused and gave two sharp raps. It never hurts to make a good impression, he thought. After a few moments, the door opened and Chabouillet stood behind it. They both paused, than Chabouillet began:

"You must be l'inspecteur Javert," he said.

Javert bowed his head slightly. "Yes, I am he," he said.

"I have heard only good things about you," said Chabouillet. 'Please; come in." He gestured Javert inside.

They went inside. Chabouillet sat behind a large desk covered in papers, and Javert stood in front of him. Chabouillet gestured for him to sit down. Javert sat down on a high backed chair and gazed steadily at Chabouillet. He must have something hard to give me, he thought. Otherwise he would've just gone over the details and sent me away.

"Inspector," said Chabouillet, "I have an…interesting job for you to do. There's a criminal I want you to catch." He held out his hands to stop Javert from interrupting him. "Now, I know you're looking for your Valjean, but…"

"No," interrupted Javert. "I mean, yes, I'm looking for Valjean, but I expected you to give me jobs. I'm not devoting my entire life just to one miscreant."

"That's good to know," he said. "But let me continue. The person I'm talking about goes by the name of Nicole de Thorbeau. We've caught her before but she's, ah, good at escaping. Right now I'm relatively sure where he is. Unlike other criminals, she makes no attempt at hiding herself. I believe she had many friends in the police force."

"Ah, and since I'm new here you know she hasn't gotten to me," said Javert.

Chabouillet hid a smile. "Yes," he said. "That's it."

Normally Javert would have caught his inner smile, but he didn't that Chabouillet would hide something like that. He thought for a moment more, than said, "So, where is it that Ma'mselle Thorbeau is at the moment?"

So he's not as observant as I thought, thought Chabouillet. He didn't catch my withholding of information. It's not entirely his fault, though. He has no reason to suspect anything. "She lives in the neighborhood of St. Rochelle," he said. "You don't have to go undercover to see her. Chances are she won't mind when you arrest her."

"Who should I take with me?" This has got to be the strangest assignment, thought Javert.

"Ahm, you don't need anyone, unless you'd like to bring one person along for comfort's sake. She'll most likely come along quietly."

"Well, I'll bring someone who can point her out to me."

"Inspector," said Chabouillet. "Sorry for thrusting this work on you, but I thought you'd be the man for the job. Mademoiselle Thorbeau has evaded us for so long that I took the opportunity to get a skilled officer to finally catch her."

"May I ask something?" asked Javert.

"Of course."

"What did she do? That is, what got her into prison in the first place?"

"Well," said Chabouillet, "it began as a simple crime, at least in comparison to others: she committed treason against the Republic. She was sentenced to two years in prison, but after a year she escaped. After a few months she was recaptured, and sentenced to two more years along with the one year she hadn't served yet. As you might guess, she escaped, and was caught a few months after. This happened again and again, and by now she has to spend the rest of her life in prison."

"As well she should" he said. "You can count on me."

Chabouillet stood up. "Well, I'm glad, Inspector. If you ever need anything, don't be afraid to ask. I'm glad you're willing to do this."

As Chabouillet stood, Javert did likewise. 'Very good sir," he said. "I shall start post-haste." He gave a slight bow and left the room.

This 'de Thorbeau' will be caught, thought Javert, and she will stay caught. If I must, I will guard her myself as long as necessary. Chabouillet didn't say it outright, but I'm sure she's used her womanly wiles to get out of jail. Javert frowned, and began writing out a warrant for Nicole de Thorbeau's arrest. Only one woman had gotten the best of Javert before, and he was determined that it wouldn't happen before.

Javert had been a young man when he fell in love. He didn't like to talk about it, since it was an embarrassing time. That was why women's pleas didn't affect him. His heart was closed off and hard as stone.

Oftentimes this happens to people. Everyone reacts differently to tragedies and hardships in their life. Both Javert and Valjean shut themselves off from their emotions after their respective tragedies. When Jean Valjean left the prison as a free man, his heart was hardened to the world. His troubles were only solved by the intervention of the bishop of Digne, and then the entry of Cosette into his life. He became a different man after that, after the light entered his life. But Javert was still in the dark. Nothing in his life had ever come in easily, and nothing had ever redeemed him for his troubles. Not that he needed s reward for being an officer of the law. It was inherent in him to do the work of the law, and he needed no rewards for that.

But sometimes he looked back on his life and wondered if there was not some force working against him and giving him the worst lot. Javert looked down on criminals, yet during his childhood he was in the same boat (so to speak) as them. The difference was that he chose the path of what he believed was right. But every choice he made had its consequences. Though he protected the citizens of France, no one was grateful. On the contrary, they mocked him and even insulted him for chasing after criminals. He had even heard other officers mocking him for chasing after Valjean so determinedly. In Javert's eyes, they didn't understand where he was coming from. Catching Valjean was a matter of principle. It wasn't who Valjean was, for the most part, but what he represented. He represented the criminal element, especially the ones who continued to evade the law, just like this Nicole de Thorbeau. (A/N- The preceding two paragraphs are a mild imitation of Victor Hugo's manner of rambling for about 200 pages)

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The next day Javert headed to the neighborhood of Saint Rochelle with a policeman he brought along 'just in case'. St. Rochelle was a dirty, depressing place. It was a haven for much of the criminal element. Many of the buildings were falling down, and he thought he saw more than one familiar face from the jail. Though the temptation was strong to give chase to them, they noticed him coming and usually left into the nearest building quickly, and anyway, he had another reason for coming here.

Javert got to an intersection at the end of the street. To the left the street ended after a few houses, and to the right he saw a woman leaning against a wall, her arms crossed and her eyes closed with her head tilted up. Javert turned to the policeman hovering behind him. "I'm assuming that's her?" he asked quietly. The officer nodded. Javert walked forward cautiously. She appeared to not notice him. He stood in front of her. Suddenly she spoke.

"So you found me," she said.

"It wasn't too hard," Javert said. "You're under arrest, and this time you won't manage one of your miraculous escapes." Or he assumed they seemed miraculous.

Nicole opened her eyes. Javert was startled by their bright green color, accentuated by her pale face. 'What's you name, monsieur?" she asked.

He took out a pair of handcuffs. "This will go easier if you don't struggle," he said.

She laughed. "Don't worry. I've gone through this enough time to know what to do."

When Javert put the cuffs on Nicole, she didn't move a finger. At one point he saw her give a slight smile to the policeman by Javert. He noticed it and asked, "Do you know him?"

"Oh," she said. "He was one of my guards the last time I was at the Madelonnettes. He was quite nice, as I recall." She looked at the officer. "You name's Benoit, right?"

The policeman grinned. "Yes, that's my name," he said. "It's nice to know that you remembered me."

"You're hard to forget."

"Yes, well, I hate to break up the reunion but Mademoiselle here needs to get to the carriage," said Javert. "Sooner than later would be nice."

The officer nodded, embarrassed, and they headed to where their carriage was waiting. Javert walked behind Nicole, and Benoit walked next to Nicole. The officer said something quietly to Nicole, and she nodded. Javert had already come to the conclusion that the man he had brought with him had helped Nicole escape before. Even before they had talked with her he had suspected it—there must have been a reason that he actually volunteered to help Javert in the capture. What would happen this time?

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