*I do not own any of the characters of Les Miserables except those of my own creation.*

"Good day, Mademoiselle."

Those were the last words of her father before he closed the door on Annette's face. This was the end of her childhood, and now it was time to begin anew.

The streets were sufficiently gloomy for Annette to begin her homeless life, and the sky was just the right shade of grey to be considered formidable and depressing. It was cold and dark, as usual for January, and overall the scene was pervaded with a dark atmosphere. Indeed, it was prime weather for being absolutely and completely miserable.

With an unconcerned look about her and a final glimpse of the home she had known for eighteen years, Annette de Courfeyrac turned on her heel and walked away with pride. She was leaving home, striking out to be independent. She didn't need her father's approval anymore, and she didn't need his affections. Not that he'd ever had any to give.

What happened first? Must she first secure lodgings? Or start with work? Unsure, Annette slowed and began to wonder. She'd never had to rely on herself like this. Well, now was as good a time as any. If only she could-

"Watch it!" The words tumbled out of her mouth angrily as she collided with a man walking with a book. Annette stumbles a few steps forward, and the young gentleman hastened to steady her. Then, she looked up. And all she could think about were how blue those eyes were, really, could that even be natural? And his hair, like the gold Rumpelstiltskin spun out of straw. Each strand was delicate and coordinated in a beautiful mane of tumbling blond curls. The man towered above her with an unassuming grace and natural air of command and poise. His nose was straight and gently curved, his face a thing of beauty. His lips were set in a straight line as though he were frustrated and puzzled over the contents of his book. They immediately parted in surprise as a result of the impact.

The gentleman still had an arm on her elbow, and Annette pushed him away roughly.

"You should be more careful on the streets, Monsieur." Her voice was irresistibly pert, and as she looked up the man seemed to hesitate. However, he stiffened once again and replied with all courtesy,

"Do forgive me, Mademoiselle. I assure you it won't happen again. Can I be of any assistance?" He gestured to her armful of clothing and books. The few remaining possessions she had in the world. Annette hesitated before nodding reluctantly.

She handed him a stack of books, which he took along with his own. Why did she do this? It wasn't as though she were carrying much, and she never accepted help.

"What is your name, Monsieur?" Annette asked after a lengthy silence.

"Gabriel Enjolras."

Interesting. Had she heard that name before? "I believe I've heard that name before." Enjolras nodded politely as they trudged on. Annette sighed and cut to the chase. "Are you very political, Monsieur Enjolras?"

The reaction was quite satisfying. Enjolras' face froze for a fraction of a second before rearranging his features into a casual calm look. He avoided eye contact with her as he asked very carefully and slowly, "Forgive me, Mademoiselle...what is your name?" But Annette was pleased with his uncertainty. She had the upper ground. She would most certainly use it to her advantage.

"For example, what do you think of the state of affairs France is in right now? And the king? I would quite like to hear your opinion. I've heard many discussions about it today so I should be quite capable of following." She smiled pleasantly, a lively sparkle in her vibrant blue eyes. Yes, subtle flattery always worked. She would have him quite open in just a moment.

But it did not seem to work. Enjolras remained calmly detached. "You do not understand how dangerous your words are," he said quietly whilst glancing to the side. "I must know. What is your name?"

Annette's smile faded from her face and in moments her features were just as cool and hard as his own. With all of her power and control, she spoke levelly, "I am sure you know what you are talking about, Monsieur, but I'm afraid you misunderstand me. I understand your wariness, but I cannot tell you my name." In a low voice, she added, "I am a Daughter of the Republic. I suppose you've heard about them?"

At her words Enjolras' face had undergone many different shades and pallors. At last, with suspicion and curiosity in his voice, he said, "Regretfully, I have not. Indeed I had no idea that there were women invested in the revolution." There was a hint of incredulousness in these words, which Annette sighed at. It was very lucky, very lucky indeed that she had run into the leader of the famed Abaissé group of which her own brother was a part.

"Of course you wouldn't know. Unlike other groups we keep quiet, and we bide our time before striking. We do not make rash judgements." Enjolras shook his head slightly.

Annette laughed lightly as people passed by. "I am not here to offend your group, Monsieur. In fact, it is quite an act of destiny that we met today, for I-"

"Yes, but how did you know who I am? You couldn't possibly know. We do not exactly advertise our names to the public for all to know." Enjolras wore a troubled look, and his figure seemed to hunch forward a bit as though he were used to leaning on his elbows. Annette watched him inadvertently, noting the oddly delicate features of his face on a man so powerful and influential.

"Men are very simple, Monsieur, if you'll forgive my saying so. I've heard your name before in a meeting, and if you remember one of the first questions I asked you was your view on politics. This is quite an effective tool for getting information, as it is a favorite topic among you lot. Men with nothing to hide, who are not plotting an uprising, will ramble on and on with a ceaseless passion about the importance of the monarchy and how lucky it is we are wealthy. They talk of their wealth, their family's wealth, and so on. It is all a question of vanity. Get them talking about politics and they will talk about themselves." Enjolras said nothing, his body rigid as a stick once again as he listened. Annette continued.

"Those, however, who are discontent, with either the monarchy or their own personal wealth, are quite different. Those who are concerned for their own financial well-being will rant tirelessly about the cruelty of the modern world, and regret their lost chances of former youthful days when they might have married a countess. Indeed, they never stop talking.

"On the other hand, there are those who are not so much concerned for themselves, but take it upon their noble minds to care for the entire country. In their minds is a flame which cannot be extinguished, a flame of freedom and justice. They disbelieve in the modern system, and they see the cruelty in every day's little happenings. They see the prostitutes and starving gamins and elderly homeless me and women shunned by society. They see child labor and unfair working conditions and men taking advantage of women. These men do not have opinions. They are nice and quiet outside of their minds and do not show the rage within. It's often a simple, 'I love my country' and a 'Who wouldn't be proud' and they'll change the topic. As it seemed you were about to do, but I believe I caught you quite unprepared." Another charming smile, and the corner of Enjolras' lips turned down. The pair continued through an alley, and, after a decidedly appropriate pause, Enjolras asked the most apparent question of all.

"Where exactly are we going?" He wore a troubled and doubtful look as he considered the girl's words. He had not been expecting speeches this early in the morning, when normally it was he giving the speech.

"I do not know. And all the fun in not knowing is not knowing what you do and do not yet know." Enjolras stared at her in disbelief.

"What do you mean, you don't know? We have been walking for over a half hour, Mademoiselle. Surely you haven't been leading me around Paris for sport." His manners wouldn't allow him to show frustration or anger, but Annette was unconvinced.

"I was...evicted from my previous home today so I am going to need a new abode. We have merely been having a pleasant conversation, and is there anything wrong with assisting a lady with her books?" As she spoke, Annette looked away and clutches her possessions tighter to her chest. She really did need to think about what she would do. As soon as possible.

Enjolras sighed and for a moment, Annette saw the unconcerned mask slip away and a youthful and simpler expression slide onto his features. He seemed to relax more now that this girl was no spy working for the gendarmes.

"What is it you want from me?" Enjolras asked, now more animated in the conversation than he had been. His intent gaze met hers, and Annette felt her breath catch in her throat before she could speak.

"Our members need an alliance. We are strong in number, but we require more planners and careful strategy. Many are losing patience and are being confronted by gendarmes with suspicion. We want to work with you, and what you lack we can provide."

Enjolras studied her carefully. "And just what is it you believe we lack?" He asked. Annette contained a scoff at his vanity.

"You lack people and order. Your rallies are effective, and I have heard rumors about powerful speeches, but one of these days you will be caught. And frankly, you require more action. You need to make the revolution appeal to all, nog just men, but women and children. Include us in your plans, and remember they are willing to fight as well. We can gather more people for you and give you a far wider range of access than you currently have." Annette paused for breath, feeling the faintness begin to creep on her. It was best to rest soon, remember what the doctor had said.

Annette stopped in the street, grounding them to a quiet area of town. She tried to catch her breath, which felt to be draining quickly from her lungs. After a moment passed she felt strong enough to continue.

"Well, Monsieur, What will it be?"

Enjolras turned his eyes to the sky. He inhaled sharply and looked at her again. He nodded.

"I will be willing to meet with your leader and discuss these things as you feel is appropriate. Then perhaps we may come to an agreement."

Annette shook her head playfully. "No monsieur. Time is running short and we must move quickly. We will send a representative to your meetings to listen and discuss things with you, and she will return to relate matters to us. It's best only one goes so as not to arouse suspicion, and our meeting place is not suitable for men to enter."

Enjolras appeared to doubt the meaning of the past comment, but said nothing. He stepped back and considered the proposition carefully, and, at last, he came to a conclusion.

"Very well. Your terms are fair. Our next meeting is at the Cafe Musain tonight at eight. Go around the back of the building only when it is dark and knock four times." Annette nodded and took note in her mind. Eight, knock four times. She took one last look at Enjolras and took her books back.

"Thank you, monsieur. For your help and for your time." With that she began walking away, but heard his voice as he called her back.

"Wait a moment, Mademoiselle. You never told me your name." Annette turned around and gave him a small smile.

"My name, Monsieur, is Annette de Courfeyrac."