Surprised, Enjolras allows himself to tumble over the seats and into the back of his car. The leather is cool against the exposed skin on his arms, and it presses against him as his lips devour hers. Éponine tugs him as close to her as two can be. He can feel every curve and swell of her lithe body held flush against him. Her lips are some kind of drug, as his hands move of his own accord to slide under the cloth of her dress, he feels lightheaded. Her teeth bite lightly on his bottom lip and she rips open his shirt. Enjolras is no longer sober.

He is drunk on her.

Éponine pulls away with what he wants to believe is reluctance. He feels the loss of her warmth harshly but takes advantage of the frozen moment to observe.

Her lips are swollen. Enjolras can see the shape of her crooked teeth just past the curve of her chapped lips. Her dress is crooked and her hair splayed around her head as she lies on the seat. His hand is curved around the thin cloth of her brassier. Another of his hands is still fiddling with the tops of her stockings. Her hands are placed firmly against his bare chest.

"Let's get to the city first. Do you have a house?"

"Yeah. My mom shouldn't be home 'till early morning," Enjolras reluctantly removes his hands from her body. She adjusts her dress and removes another stick from her pocket, this time a cigarette. Éponine smartly grabs the match box from his pocket and flicks a flame to the end of her cigarette. Once she inhales smoke, she looks at him with amusement.

"You still live with your mother?" she teases. Enjolras grumbles a nonsensical response as he climbs over the seats, cursing the tent in his pants that makes every move uncomfortable. Éponine follows close behind, plopping into the passenger seat with a satisfied sigh.

"Well, it should be about ten minutes if we go top speed," Enjolras comments, turning the car on. His eyes are fixed on the rural road that lights up when his headlights burst to life. He is so focused on starting the car that he doesn't see Éponine's sneaky hand as it moves its way to his lap.

When he feels her bony hand pressing into his thigh, he just grits his teeth and ignores it, moving the car along. However, when she undoes his pants—

"What are you doing?" He yelps, trying to shake off her hand. She keeps it there.

"It was selfish of me not to think of you," there is a smirk in her voice as her hand grasps his member. "I know it's painful when it goes untreated."

"Miss," Enjolras feels the strain as he fights the feelings that shoot to where she is touching. He is lightheaded, "I am driving."

"Yes, I see that," her voice is sarcastic. "I used to give my old partner road head all the time, then he had to go fall in love or something."

"Road head, you mean—"

"Yes," she nips at his ear, which causes his hands to jerk on the wheel, sending the old car swerving. "This is less distracting."

Jesus Christ, help me, Enjolras thinks as her hand moves up and down and the road blurs before his eyes. This girl is going to be my death one day.

~one thing, young lady, I guarantee~

Éponine smiles into his shoulder. The rough skin of her lips contrasts the smooth span of his skin. They lay on his couch, basking in the bubbling afterglow of sex. Her hair is tangled and long and ratty, and Enjolras can still feel how wonderful it was when he yanked it as she moaned. His hair is matted to his forehead, and one of her hands is twisting a golden curl around her finger.

"So you want to be a politician, is it?"

"Someday," Enjolras turns to her with a crooked smile. "I also have a law degree, if that doesn't work out I may settle for a lawyer."

Her voice is gentle as she asks, "How is it that with all these dreams, you're still just a speakeasy bus boy?"

"Careful," he manages a thin laugh. "Don't discredit me, I'm a bartender."

"Still. Big dreams for a small town boy," Éponine sits away from him, stretching. Enjolras can just barely make out the sloping shapes of her small breasts in the dark.

"Same goes for you, Miss Most Wanted," Enjolras shoots at her. She just chuckles and goes about picking her clothing off the ground.

"Am I your Most Wanted?"

"If you want to be," He means for it to sound teasing, but his voice is gravelly and serious. Enjolras's heart is in his throat. He genuinely doesn't know why she has grasped him so tightly, and he wonders what different path his life will now take that it wouldn't have if he had just turned her into the police or left work a little earlier.

Éponine swoops through the shadows to kiss him.

"I've got to go," she laughs against his lips. "Stop asking for kisses!"

"But I'm not—" he is interrupted by her kiss again. Her wicked scent of tobacco and sex taunts him.

"I've got to meet up with my partner and his wife; it's where I'm staying tonight," she flicks him to get his hand off its place on her thigh.

Enjolras frowns against his will. He has just met this girl, and yet he feels something that feels a bit like sickness brewing in the pit of his stomach. "Your… partner? As in the one you—"

"Yes, but don't turn green now. He's all happy and monogamous. We escaped together—he broke me out once he got out of the real place."

"How do you know he won't turn you in?"

"'Cause then he'd have to turn himself in, obviously," Éponine rolls her eyes.

"But… I read somewhere that if you turn someone else in then you get t—"

"Look, he's in jail and I'm at Juvenile Hall. Which one would you rather get back behind bars?" Éponine's quick tongue lashes him to silence and he watches as she fumbles to cover her skin against the shadows. Maybe she should be the politician.

"What's his name?" Enjolras asks.

"Marius. Marius Pontmercy."

~this world will remember me~

Marius catches sight of the light shining through the window and smiles. It has been two long years since he last saw Cosette's beautiful smile and felt her soft skin. He has longed for her and he'll be damned if he doesn't get her soon. He parted from Éponine and told her to waste her time and do whatever she wanted so long as she didn't come with him for a while… He wants—no, he needs—Cosette to himself.

He bangs on the door, waiting with bated breath. He hears soft, delicate footsteps just behind the door as they approach. His chest tightens—surely she will be happy to see him, right?

The door opens, spilling light into Marius's prison-ruined eyes. There she stands like an angel at the gates of heaven, her red hair set alight and her skin just as smooth as he remembers. Her blue eyes are wide and blue as they gaze up at him. Maybe the light is not coming from behind her after all, rather from within her…

"Marius?"

"Cosette!" he exclaims, rushing into her arms. However, she steps back with those eyes no longer innocent. She has turned from a kitten to a cat. Those eyes that never held a glare are now narrowed at Marius.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see you. I escaped!"

"Obviously! You should be in jail."

He flinches at her accusatory words. Hurt, he asks, "Aren't you happy to see me?"

Her face softens and she steps just close enough to lay a dainty hand on his dirty arm. "Of course I am," she murmurs. "But, you've got to trust God. God made the jury give you your sentence, and only God can help you to remove that sentence. You've got to ask the good Lord to forgive. You haven't finished your penance yet," Cosette straightens up. Her face is hard again. The gold cross on her neck swings into her cleavage. "Marius, you're going back to jail."

"Wait, what?"

This is going to be a multi-chapter fic! I'll have to check how long exactly, but I plan for there to be one chapter for every song on the Bonnie and Clyde soundtrack. The songs won't match up with the story, but…

PLEASE REVIEW!