Jean Valjean opened the door to his house on Rue Plumet. Standing before him was a tall man, dressed in a long black cloak. His hood shadowed his face, hiding any distinguishing features.
"Yes?" Valjean asked, suddenly wary.
"I bring a message for your daughter, Cosette." The stranger's voice was deep and smooth, yet at the same time carried a hint of harshness. His voice struck a chord in Valjean's memory. He shook his head, trying to recall the voice, but the memory faded and his face cleared.
"Good monsieur, would you care to enter?"
The stranger's curt voice came out of the dark night. "Non, merci."
Valjean looked at him suspiciously before calling up the stairs.
"Cosette! A visitor! Cosette?"
He heard the pattering of light feet and a soft voice. "Yes, Papa?"
His daughter, Cosette, entered. Her hair, chestnut-colored and curly, with gold streaks, fell to her waist, and her deep blue eyes shone in her soft, young face. Her simple yet elegant pale blue dress shimmered, accenting her youthful figure. She glanced from her father to the stranger.
Cosette dipped a curtsy, attempting to hide her confusion.
"Welcome, monsieur." Her quiet voice was like music. The stranger's eyes glinted in the moonlight. "Come in, come in."
This time the man entered silently.
"You have a message?" Valjean asked.
"Mademoiselle, Monsieur, I have news concerning a Marius Pontmercy."
"Is he alive? Is he well?"
Cosette leaned forward eagerly, her face alight at the mention of her love.
The stranger turned to Cosette.
"Good mademoiselle... the young man was shot while protecting the body of Eponine Thenardier at the barricades. His friends all died fighting."
Cosette stared in shock as his words sank in. She buried her face in her hands and sat down in a nearby chair. Valjean could see her shoulders heaving as she sobbed silently.
The stranger turned to leave, but paused at the door.
"Monsieur... Mademoiselle... one last thing."
Cosette looked up, her eyes filled with tears, as the stranger spun to face her and her father. The man lifted up his hands and removed his black hood.
Green eyes glinted out of a pale face. His dark hair fell nearly to his shoulders. His thin mouth formed a straight line. Thick, dark sideburns ran down the sides of the man's face.
Valjean stared in disbelief.
"Inspector Javert," he hissed.
As Valjean stood up, to face his longtime enemy, Javert spun and darted out the door. By the time Valjean, in his old age, reached the door, the Inspector was already far down the street.
Months later, there was again a quiet knock on the door of 55 Rue Plumet. Jean Valjean opened the heavy wooded door to find Inspector Javert outside.
He and Cosette had received multiple visits from the man over the past few months. Though Javert had not recently attempted to arrest Valjean, Valjean was still quite suspicious of the man who had nearly killed him on multiple occasions. However, he was hopeful that possibly they would be able to make amends, as Javert seemed to enjoy the time he spent with the old man and the young woman.
"Oui?" Valjean said, casually leaning against the doorframe.
Javert took a deep breath and pushed his hood back. "Two four- pardon, Monsieur Valjean- may I speak with Cosette? Alone?"
"As you wish." Valjean invited Javert into the house. His black boots, carefully polished, made no noise on the rug.
Cosette appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She wore a light red-and-white dress that accented the gold veins in her hair. Part of her chestnut hair was in an elegant knot at the back of her head, while the rest tumbled over her shoulders and cascaded to her waist.
The two men rose from their seats, one dazzled by her beauty and the other preparing to leave the room. The latter strode past his daughter, while the former simply gazed at her.
Cosette closed the door behind her.
"Comment ça va, Monsieur Javert?"
"Ça va bien, et tu?"
"Ça va bien."
"Mademoiselle-"
"Cosette." She smiled at him like a ray of sunshine.
"Cosette." He took one of her hands. The young woman's eyes widened in shock. "Cosette, je pense... Je pense que je t'aime."
Cosette's lashes fluttered as she looked down. Hesitantly, she glanced up at the older man.
"Monsieur-"
"Javert." Cosette smiled again.
"Javert, je pense que je t'aime aussi."
Her blue eyes met his green for a fraction of a second before they both looked away.
Javert squeezed Cosette's small hand and let go. He strode to the door and swung it open.
"Two-four-six-oh-one!" Javert called.
"Javert!" hissed Cosette. "Not the best way to make a good impression!"
"Uh, pardon. Monsieur Valjean?"
Valjean emerged from a hallway. "Oui?"
"Uh, Monsieur... to put it plainly, I'm in love with your daughter." Valjean stared openmouthed as Cosette came to stand next to Javert, who took her hand. Valjean's eyes became icy daggers.
"Papa, I love him..." Valjean's killer glare turned to his daughter.
"Out!" he roared. "This man's tried to kill me more times than I can count. Cosette, he's an evil maniac!" Valjean yelled furiously. "Out of my house! Both of you!"
"Papa, Papa, I do not understand!"
Tears ran down Cosette's face.
"Did you know you're not even my daughter? Your mother abandoned you and died! And now I see why!"
"Valjean, calm down," Javert said in a steady voice. He put his arm around Cosette, who buried her tear-streaked face in his chest. "It's okay. It's okay, mon cheri," he murmured in her ear.
She looked up at him, her large blue eyes filled with tears.
He looked down at her tenderly, pure love obviously visible in his green eyes. He took one finger and brushed away her tears. He pushed her hair back out of her face, and turned to face Valjean.
"Ten minutes. Ten minutes for Cosette to pack her things, and then, I swear to you, we will be gone."
"Ten minutes only," Valjean replied spitefully.
Javert guided a teary Cosette up the stairs to her bedroom. Too distraught to do anything, Cosette sat on the bed while Javert gathered her things.
Ten minutes later, Javert led Cosette out of 55 Rue Plumet, her home for the last several years. In one of his large, strong hands was a trunk. With the other, he held the hand of his beloved.
Cosette turned to look at her home one last time. Finally, Javert turned her to face him. Her head hung as she stood sadly in the rain.
"Cosette, Cosette."
He put his fingers beneath her chin and tilted her head upwards. Her eyes caught his, and on an instinct he kissed her passionately. One of his hands was buried in her thick hair, while the other was in the small of her back. Her arms went up around his neck. Their bodies together in the chilly evening air, they kissed hungrily.
The trunk lay forgotten on the ground.
"Cosette?" a small voice came from behind them. The two lovers sprang apart. "Cosette?"
"Who is it?" Cosette warily asked the night air.
"Show yourself!" Javert said abruptly. A small figure appeared from behind a nearby building. Cosette peered through the rain, and recognized the boy.
"Gavroche!" Gavroche ran to Cosette, who kneeled in the dirty street to embrace the child. A hint of a smile crossed Javert's face. "What's wrong, Gavroche?"
"Well, y'see, they shot me at the barricades. All them, they'd been thinkin' I was dead. But really, Cosette, they're the ones sleepin' in the sewers. I got away and these nice people took good care of me. But then, y'see, them be decidin' they couldn't afford another kid. So they kicked me out. But, Cosette, all the trash scraps, they be gross, from all God's cryin' tonight.
This time Javert actually did smile, at Gavroche's naive term for rain. But the smile quickly faded as Cosette looked between the two, a pained expression on her face. She was remembering her childhood, where she was forced to sleep outside and was not fed often.
"Gavroche, your name is?" Javert addressed the boy, who nodded. "'s right, you're the one what sold me out. But they all thought I was dead, too. Just 'cause I threw myself into the Seine." He laughed bitterly.
"Gavroche, my Papa threw me out because Javert 'n I told him we're in love," Cosette said, forgetting her refined language and slipping into the coarse tongue of her childhood. "But, 'Roche, you can come live with us... 'least for the time being?" She looked hopefully up at her beloved.
"Of course." Javert smiled at the boy and the young woman. Picking up the trunk, they started to walk again.
Javert, realizing Gavroche was exasperated with the couple's slow pace, told him the address of his house. Once Gavroche left, Javert took his love's hand and, smiling, the couple walked hand-in-hand together through the pouring rain down the streets of Paris.
Valjean lay on the bed, anxiously waiting for the messenger to return with news of his daughter and her latest lover.
Valjean was dying. He could feel it. It had started with the shock of the unlikely love between his daughter and the man who had tried to kill him several times over.
The messenger reappeared.
"Monsieur," the boy said with a wide smile, "I brought you something." The boy left the room.
Silently, Cosette appeared at the doorway, Javert behind her.
"My daughter," Valjean croaked. "I am dying."
Cosette's mouth dropped open as his words registered. She rushed to kneel at his bedside.
"You will live. Papa, you're going to live," she said hopefully. "It's too soon, too soon to say goodbye." Her voice cracked in the middle and she finished her sentence in a tearful whisper.
Javert stepped forward.
"Monsieur," he said briskly. "I believe that I was overzealous in my pursuit of the convict numbered 24601. I am ready to start anew, give up that chase. I am ready to hunt others. I no longer feel the need to jail Prisoner 24601. Jean Valjean, may we start over? Can you forgive my wrongs?"
Valjean narrowed his eyes.
"Yes," he replied cautiously, "so long as you do not harm my daughter."
"Of course." Javert leaned close and whispered in Valjean's ear, so that none but the two men could hear. "Monsieur Valjean, have I your permission to marry Cosette?"
Valjean smiled peacefully. "Go forth with my blessing upon your marriage. Javert, you are forgiven completely." Valjean raised his voice slightly, so that his daughter could hear him. "May you both be blessed. Cosette... I love you..." His voice faded. "Cosette..."
Valjean's last smile lingered on his face.