My first Les Mis fic. Inspiration struck my after reading issue 166 of AsheRhyder's "Roommates" on . (This was written before issue 167 in which we actually find out what happens between the two of them.) So the first part is somewhat similar but everything else will be from my own imagination. If you have read Roommates, the only thing that fits in with the latest arc is Javert and his warped memory. So yes, that's that and I hope you enjoy.
Javert and Jean Valjean (c) Victor Hugo
Roommates by AsheRhyder [link]
"The peasants of the Asturias believe that in every litter of wolves there is one pup that is killed by the mother for fear that on growing up it would devour the other little ones. Give a human face to this wolf's son and you will have Javert."
-Victor Hugo
1
Jean Valjean sighed heavily. He had been working all afternoon yet the stack of papers on his desk seemed to have decreased very little in size. But despite his frustration he had to admit that the stack was quite impressive. How all that paperwork could amass over the course of a day left him at a loss for words. Taking a sip of tea to steady his nerves he took the next document from the top of the pile. His brow furrowed as he read the paper. It was a complaint. Not an unusual thing for him to be given considering his position as superintendent of the building. It was the content of the report that caused him to worry.
Putting the paper into a different pile he filed through the next few only to find them all of a similar nature. Valjean knew that there were several people in the complex who were endowed with certain… magical, and therefore troublesome, abilities. A M. Jareth was most often the cause of minor damages and mishaps but nothing like this had ever come up. Valjean sat back in his chair, pondering how to deal with the situation. At last an idea struck him.
"Javert is friends with the fellow," he thought to himself, "and I'm sure he would be grateful to do something more suited to his abilities. I don't think he would mind a little investigating." Smiling, he picked up the telephone on his desk and began to dial the former policeman's number.
Three sharp raps on the office door, the customary knock of a Parisian official, caused Valjean to jump in surprise. He chuckled in spite of himself at his reaction, holding a hand to his racing heart. He had been on the run for so much of his life that even in death he could not put aside his instincts.
"Come in," he called, putting the phone down and going back to his work. The door opened and closed quietly on its hinges, then the sound of heavy tread met his ears. It stopped in front of his desk and he could see a tall figure out of the corner of his eye. He looked up to greet his guest only to be caught completely by surprise. Before him stood Javert. At first Valjean was pleased to see him but something about Javert's appearance sent a foreboding chill through the older man. He was dressed in his old uniform, irreproachably neat and clean as per usual. But his face, though normally stoic, now held a look of disdain and – he swallowed hard at the thought – triumph.
"Ah, Javert," he began politely albeit a little uneasily "perfect timing as always. I was hoping you might…"
"It seems you have once again wriggled your way into a position of power and influence within a respectable society," he interrupted roughly. "But I shall make sure it is the last time. You will come with me now. And you will address me as Monsieur l'Inspecteur, prisoner 24601."
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