A/N: Okay, so there is some Courfeyrac/Jehan fluff in this chapter (only a tiny bit). If that bothers you, you don't have to read this chapter. Yeah, these one-shots are going to range from funny to romantic to just fluff to who knows what. I'm going to stay clear of angst though, right now. Also, I'm sorry about the awful poetry, I had to think it up myself.

Jehan was walking to the meeting, when he paused. He glanced up and smiled. It was a truly beautiful day. It was warm and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. A gentle breeze wafted in, and he could smell freshly baked bread. Wishing he could spend the entire day at the public garden, he reluctantly headed inside the café.

"—We need to rally up the people," Enjolras was saying, "they are being led blindly on a leash. It's sickening. Now, I thought we would take it the old fashioned way, and hand out pamphlets."

Feuilly frowned, "I'm not sure a lot of the people can read, Enjolras. At least, not the people we're targeting. Not all of them are Éponines and Gavroches."

Enjolras sighed, "you're right. Well, we're going to have to spread the word verbally. We'll go out in pairs, and take different streets. It'll be me and Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Jehan, Joly and Bossuet, Bahorel and Grantaire, and Marius and Feuilly."

The students all went to their assigned pairs. "And no goofing off. We need to raise awareness all day," called out Enjolras as they started to leave.

"Can we go to the garden?" Jehan asked Courfeyrac right as they stepped outside.

Courfeyrac smiled and ruffled his hair, "No, Enjolras will be mad. We need to at least spread some awareness. We can go to the garden later."

Jehan nodded. They stopped on a street corner and started talking to people, but it was hard. Most of them ignored them and scoffed at them. A few seemed interested, but didn't want to show it publicly. The police was everywhere.

Jehan started humming. He could see a bunch of young couples everywhere. He wasn't surprised to see Marius and Cosette walk by. Courfeyrac chuckled softly, "looks like Feuilly's on his own."

Jehan tried a different approach for spreading the news.

"There once was a boy

Who was being treated by the government as a toy

He got up and rebelled

The people all yelled

And they won their respect with joy."

"Wow, Jehan, that was really good. Did you make that up on the spot?" asked Courfeyrac, impressed. Jehan nodded. Some people had noticed the poem and thought it was very clever of him. Jehan cleared his throat and recited,

"Oh, to be young and stroll Paris with grace

To see the better half of the human race

But beneath your feet

On this very street

The beggars lie

The children cry

The people have not a single right

And so we call you to fight

Stand up for yourself with pride

I know we can change the tide

Make a better world for your mistress

Do not lie in distress

Walk France with your children one day

And perhaps you will be able to say

How you fought for your rights and to become free

To stretch out your branches like a tree

So, look at Patria with love, respect, and strength

Remind yourself to protect her at any length

She is failing, and becoming sick

You are the person that we will pick

To aid us in the revolution against the power

And to stand united as a tower."

Some people clapped and cheered. Others gave them a smile and a nod. But then the casual arrival of the police inspired them to leave. One policeman walked over to Jehan and Courfeyrac.

"I think you two should leave," he said, forcefully. They both nodded and rushed away.

"Well, that was close. It could have been a lot worse," said Courfeyrac. "Anyway, I hope the others had more luck. I feel like we didn't impact them enough. Hmmm, we can count out Feuilly, since he's alone, and he's easy prey for police. Remember what Enjolras says, 'always go with someone. There is power in number, even if it's just two.' Bossuet has bad luck, so it's unlikely that him and Joly got a mob. Bahorel and Grantaire probably got into a fist fit with a civilian or a policeman. At least, Enjolras and Combeferre know what they're doing. Let's go to the garden, Jehan."

Jehan nodded and smiled. The two of them entered the gardens and Jehan wandered blissfully around the flowers. Courfeyrac walked with him and mused. He held Jehan's hand, so he wouldn't go running off. Jehan had his head in the clouds. They spent the rest of the day in the garden. Jehan laid down and played with some flowers that had fallen. He rested his head in Courfeyrac's lap; while Courfeyrac read a book (he always had one with him).

Courfeyrac tore his eyes away from his book to see the sunset. He woke up Jehan, who had dozed off a while ago. "Come on, we have to get back to the café. And try not to say anything to Enjolras. He won't be happy."

They made their way back to the café. As predicted, most of the students had had no luck. Both Bahorel and Grantaire wore some nasty bruises on their faces. There was a bit of dried blood on the corner of Grantaire's lips.

"Hey, we're back," announced Courfeyrac.

"Good, what did you two accomplish?" Enjolras asked, absentmindedly. Combeferre was writing up a list of information they got as they spread the word. The list was pitifully short.

"Well, we managed to get the word out using Jehan's clever poetry. The people showed some interest, but then the police showed up, and they fled. We decided it was better to go."

Enjolras was muttering more to himself than the group, "if the people wouldn't stand up to some police on the streets, how they will help with the revolution?" He shook his head, "they just need more confidence and we need to get it to him. Anyone else got anything extra to report?"

"The police don't like it when you call them 'close-minded idiots who can't get laid.'" said Grantaire, while Bahorel snickered.

"No, he did not like that." Bahorel said, smiling at the memories.

Enjolras didn't say anything, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

"We had bad luck," said Bossuet, sadly. He brightened though, "but we saw Musichetta!"

"Marius ditched me for Cosette right away," said Feuilly.

"Well, you'll be happy to know that Combeferre and I got some word around," said Enjolras, unconsciously throwing back his mane of golden hair. Behind him, Grantaire mocked him with dramatic gestures. He mouthed, 'I am Enjolras, the supreme! Watch as I whip my hair back and forth!'

Everyone started snickering. Enjolras dismissed them, knowing that they won't going to get anything else done.

Courfeyrac cheerfully picked a flower out of Jehan's hair. "We should do that again sometime!" He said, which made Jehan blush slightly.