"I have something important to tell you," Grantaire muttered nervously.
Javert, who was boogying it on down, whipped around to face his waifu.
"Really? More important than the dance party?" He looked horrified at the idea.
"Well..." Grantaire began, "I'm afraid so. You see-"
Javert tapped his foot, anxious to get back on da floor. "What?"
"I've decided we need to break the world record for the largest sock collection. Tonight."
"We don't have enough! Unless we borrow some from Marius, we'll never make it!"
Grantaire cast his eyes to the floor, shattered at his true love's unwillingness to help him fulfill his dream. Javert, seeing his reaction, stopped handjiving to listen. He kept the groove out of his steps as well as he could and made his way over to Grantaire to give him a reassuring pat on the head.
"If it's really that important to you, love, I'll do my best; but wasn't tonight game night?"
"What better game than to challenge the norm, with socks?"
Javert squinted at his beloved Grantaire and muttered "I thought we agreed you were going to stay sober."
Frowning, Grantaire turned to leave the room. Javert followed, picking up his kitten, Snookums, as he went. "Leave me alone," Grantaire telepathically communicated to Javert through the intense love connection they shared.
Grantaire walked faster, but was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see Snookums, extended to his full, humanesque size, staring him down with a weary, disappointed look.
"Not again."
Javert, Grantaire and Snookums all turned to see Joly leaning swankily in the conveniently placed, cardboard doorway.
"Why hello there!" Grantaire raised an eyebrow flirtatiously and recieved a slap from Snookums. He immediately lowered his eyebrows as far down as they could go.
Javert picked the eyebrows up off the floor and stuck them back on Grantaire's face, with a muttered "Oh stop it, you." Grantaire would have winked, except his entire childhood he was fed lies about how winking gave you hairy hands, and he was still petrified of the notion. The swankadelic drunk toppled over, landing on Joly, who propped him back up against the cat. Snookums gave a hearty, gutteral purr. Grantaire, half asleep, began to kiss the cat's soft fur.
"Oh my," said Joly, "This is getting funky." Javert covered his mouth with both hands in pantomime horror. Hair was clearly visable on both, showing he had winked many a time in his long, tortured past. His eyes met Joly's and they stared lovingly at each other until they were interrupted by a loud 'miaow'.
By the side of Grantaire, Snookums had spontaneously combusted, not into flames but into tiny, pink pieces of paper. On closer inspection, one would be likely to interpret strange markings, which, in the right order could be translated as "Fetch me some of that Dog Water, mother," or, scrambled around, a simple "I love him."
Unfortunately enough, Grantaire and Javert were entirely illiterate, and Joly (who could spell his name and 17 other nice words) thought squandering his reading ability to be a great misuse of it. Javert picked up Grantaire in his arms bridal-style and carried him upstairs to the bedroom, a rose between his teeth.
"Now," he yodeled, "To business."