A/N: Okay, I know Javert might seem a little OOC in this, but I think he is human, but it is a side of him that is downplayed and hidden by Javert himself... So if he seems "too human" and illogical here, please bear with me. I am exploring a lot of internal conflict within him.

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

CHAPTER 2:

Eponine grimaced as she watched Marius rush to Cosette's house the second the meeting ended. She hugged herself tightly as she made her way to the market, hoping that there was still a vendor with something to fill her empty stomach.

One vendor still stood at his stand, his eyes drooping with fatigue. The fresh bread that had been on his table early the morning was gone, leaving only a small number of stale loaves. Within her reach. Eponine glanced around carefully before making a move toward the stand. A hand locked around her wrist the second she extended it and a chill rand down her back as she looked up into the icy eyes of the most feared man in Paris.

"Inspector…"

Javert couldn't help but notice the frailness of her wrist. He suspected that if he pulled at her too hard she would break.

"Inspector, I… I did not steal anything, I swear!"

Javert lifted a brow and looked down at her with a sardonic smile.

"I am aware of that, girl. However, had I not stopped you, you would have."

Eponine pushed through the fear she felt at his cold gaze and lifted her chin.

"Is it possible to be arrested for a crime we was going to commit, Inspector?"

Javert dropped loosened his grip around her wrist irritably. The girl was right.

"I will be watching you."

Eponine nodded glumly, folding her arms around her protectively as her stomach growled. Javert hesitated, but pride won over sympathy. The vendor, however, seemed to feel differently as he approached Eponine.

"Take this, Mademoiselle. It will not be sold tonight."

Eponine grabbed the loaf of bread he held out to her greedily, nearly falling down on her knees before him.

"Thank you, M'sieur!"

Javert grimaced. Charity. It was a concept he could not understand, as much as he tried to. There was one way to survive - finding an honest job and live your life in a way to warrant favour in the eyes of the Lord.

People did not have to beg, steal or whore themselves out for money. People choosing that way deserved neither sympathy nor respect. An unknown feeling stirred in him as he watched the girl wolfing down the stale loaf of bread, picking each crumb from her hands. She was not by any means beautiful. It was hard to believe that men would waste their money on the too-skinny, grimy body in front of him.

She looked up suddenly and he froze, unable to look away. He noticed for the first time that her eyes did not seem to suit her face. They looked too big for her face, a velvety dark colour. It was the expression in them that kept his gaze fixed on her. In her eyes he could see every ounce of hatred, fear and abhorrence that she surely felt toward him. Feelings that he was certain she would never dare to say out loud. Javert pursed his lips. It had never bothered him that these street rats hated him, feared him. Instead, it instilled a glimmer of pride in him. They did their best to hide it away though. It was never this obvious. It inexplicably angered Javert that this girl did not even bother hiding the loathing in her eyes and the desire to slap handcuffs around her wrists and see her in a prison cell coursed through him.

Of course he was aware of the fact that you could not arrest one simply for hating you. If it were so, half the city would be in prison. The girl recoiled as he approached her, and Javert resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Come, girl. Let me escort you home."

Eponine stared at the Inspector in awe. Her immediate reaction was to refuse, but one look at his face told her that he would not stand for it.

She nodded glumly and his hand locked around her upper arm.

"I do not want to catch you committing… any other crimes tonight."

It was clear what he alluded to, and Eponine was thankful for the dirt hiding the stains appearing on her cheeks.

She mumbled something incoherent as she followed him down one of the many crooked streets leading to her father's Inn. Javert stopped suddenly, turning to look at her.

"Tell me, Mademoiselle Thenardier… What is it that they pay for?"

She gaped at him, her eyes wide.

"M'sieur?"

There was a strange glint in his eyes as he looked at her.

"What is it about you, making you worthy of their money? From street rats to barons."

His mention of barons immediately sent her thoughts flying to Marius, and she was suddenly furious at the Inspector's insinuations. The urge to make him uncomfortable grabbed every fibre of her being and she moved closer to him.

"You want to know why they pay, M'sieur? I'm willing. Even though I'm ugly, it's a warm body making them feel desirable. What man wouldn't want to pay for the chance to feel wanted? You, perhaps, Inspector?"

He did not fail to notice the fact that she made Inspector sound like an insult. As her words registered, however, his face flushed.

He was Inspector Eugene Javert. He was feared by many, respected by most. The little street urchin had hit the nail on the head, however. He had never been desired.

The pair had come to a halt, locked in a still staring contest.

"What about you?"

Eponine shuddered as his crisp voice cut through the silence.

"What do you mean, Inspector?"

"I mean… When these men feel so desired by you… what is it that you feel?"

Eponine bit down on her lower lip, almost drawing blood from it.

"I… feel nothing."

Javert felt strangely comforted by the similarity they shared. Perhaps, he thought, it was because he was reassured that he was not the only lonely person in the world. However, as the little Thenardier had insinuated, he had the ability to pay for desire whereas she was simply an object. For a split second he allowed the ridiculous thought to run through his mind. He had no carnal need, no lust to be satiated, and no need for a woman's body in his arms. He certainly felt no desire or attraction toward Thenardier. The feeling of being desired, perhaps belonging, however, caused him to stop at the thought.

Inspector Eugene Javert.

His name was tantamount to the law. He was seen by many as the pure embodiment of the law. For this reason, every single person around him failed to see him as what he truly was.

Human.

A man.

His eyes glazed over and he looked at Eponine intently.

"What is the price on desire, Mademoiselle?"

Eponine licked over her dry lips, the reason for his question eluding her.

"I guess… it depends, Inspector. On whether it is a street rat, a vendor, a doctor… a baron."

He took a step towards her, gazing down into her eyes.

"What about an inspector?"

Eponine gasped, her eyes wide.

"I… you would never. It this a trick, Inspector Javert?"

He ran a finger over her cheek, resting it in the corner of her mouth. He inspected the layer of dirt on his finger as he removed it from her and for some reason it shook him back to reality. Javert sighed tiredly and shook his head.

"Go home, Eponine."

He turned and disappeared without another word. The second his footsteps were not within earshot anymore, Eponine jumped, running back to her home as fast as her legs could carry her.