A/N: You see what the power of reviews can do? Please keep it up but one small favor les amis, please don't write a review that just says, "Update soon". Because (no offense) that's really not a review. For me it's an annoying reminder that bugged me to update fast. So if I get any reviews like that, it doesn't count. Alrighty, I will respond to many reviews here (not in any particular order):

Qoheleth: Err, I dunno about underwear in 19th century France Mon Petite, the story was placed in a modern AU. Hope it cleared any misunderstandings.

J91: Really? Not that I'm being all showy but I used the past perfect tense instead of simple past tense because I feel it lacks insights but since you find it hard to read, I'll just adjust it to better suit you. And drabbles aren't usually ordered alphabetically, ironically even mine.

Guest: Aww thank you~

Singmyangel: Really?! Whew! I thought I killed their characters in an AU setting!

Nianna: Hehehe, well because like you I see Eponine as a survivor unlike Cosette (no offense Cosette fans) who is more like the damsel-in-distress/genteel type that gets on my nerves

Fell-into-Wonderland: You review… Is just the best! You don't know how much that meant to me! I always thought I would be an epic fail in writing comedies! Good to know they weren't OOC!

Sparks. Bolts: I won't let you wait any longer! Thanks for reading!

Ok, so let's get this show on the road! Oh, and this won't be much on the humor department.

Note: Five reviews will equal to one chapter so if there's no review, then there's no update. That's my set of rules sorry.

Disclaimer: I don't own the original characters from Les Miserables.

ABC's of Enjorlas and Eponine

Prompt: T for Territory

Canon Universe (19th Century. Paris, France)

Territory is not merely used to define the areas to claim. It can be something unfamiliar; you don't know what to do or what to feel about it. A place of interest, nd with that, it can also be a person.

A young gamin perched by one of the windows of the Cafe Musain. Her eyes scanned the ground floor; all she could see were random young men wearing the patch that Marius also possessed. While some looked at her with a suspicious gaze, most didn't pay attention to her, because it was highly likely they didn't know who her father is. Thenardier was notorious in the Parisian streets as a con artist, a thief and even a murderer if needed. He would even sell his own flesh and blood just to get some francs, which he had done to her sister Azelma.

She fought against him with tooth and nail but as soon as Brujon stepped in, she knew it was a lost cause. Every time she closed her eyes, she could remember Azelma's tear-streaked face and her screams echoed in her head that it would keep her awake for hours.

Marius was late. And he was never late for a meeting she mused. Had something happened? No, she was positive there was nothing to worry about. The rich man can protect himself even if he was naive and that naiveté trait of his was something very attractive to her.

She lets out a sigh that caught the attention of a thick curly dark haired young man who instantly drank down his mug of ale like a starving babe.

"D'you need something?" he asked. He looked sober despite his flushed face so Eponine answered him.

"I'm waiting for Monsieur Marius"

The man lifted a brow and crossed his arms, not in a confronted manner but more in curiosity and wonder, "He said he has something important to do so he won't be coming here until later."

All she could say was "Oh," and looked at the ground. What should she do now? Following Marius became her past time whenever she could escape her father's clutches and kept herself scarce when the Patron-Minette devised some intricate plan to rob someone. Mistakes were made in her part, like when she listened to her father's reassurance that it will go smoothly.

And smoothly it was not. Eight out of ten of those chances backfired on them and Eponine was almost always the one who was kept behind the bars because she wasn't fast enough to escape. Montparnasse, the only one she would tolerate within the Patron-Minette, would break her out only to get her mixed in another plan yet again.

Things were different when she was with Marius. He was kind and very considerate to her. He didn't mind when she talked about things nonstop and it thrilled her when he questioned some of the things she'd said. When she would tease him, he would just give a good-natured smile and he would also tease back. His presence made her feel comfortable, like a home she never had.

"The meeting's about to start!" A man with chestnut hair announced near the top of the stairs. Automatically, the men lined themselves like the soldiers she had seen before and climbed the wooden stairs. The young man before her sighed as though it was a nuisance and placed his empty mug on the table. He gave her a short nod and joined the others, leaving her by herself.

This is a strange group. A meeting inside a cafe as small as this and they were all looking outside with a wary eye. If she didn't know any better, she would say this is a secret organization made up by rebels. The very thought of it made her snort. The very idea of students playing the roles of rebels, oh what a hilarious notion. But there was a strong voice that flowed from above. She poked her head inside the cafe and entered the building. Having watched every one of them enter the second part of the building, she slowly crept on the stairs as quietly as could manage. The floorboards creaked loudly but not so much as to stop the man's speech.

"-and who are we but the children of France herself! Every day we see people starving, happy to receive crumbs when they deserved a whole loaf! Children begging for alms and gangs ruling the streets because those corrupted with power couldn't care any less. Is this what we want?!"

A loud chorus of "No!" shook the floor.

"Is this what the poor deserved? To be ignored and looked down upon?!"

"No!"

"Then we shall unleash our anger at the law! We shall make our mark in the history of France and let the voices of the people be heard!"

The adrenaline in the room was suffocating and their cheers vibrated through the thin walls when she tried to get a glimpse of the speaker. Whoever he was, he can be very persuasive.

Due to her small stature, she tried to see him as she stood on the tip of her toes but to no avail, all she could see were the heads of men. Her mouth twisted into an annoyed sort and looked around to see if anything could serve as a makeshift box for her to stand on. A single chair stood near her and she quickly took the 'initiative' to use it.

Now with their heads out of the way, she craned her head to see the young man who stood in the middle of the circle suggested he was the leader. He looked around the same age as Marius, maybe even older by a year or two but his face still retained some of that boyish attribute. His hair was blond although not as light as her brother's, Gavroche, hair was. His eyes were fierce and focused and his body language exudes of leadership and command. She was so very sure his eyes darted on her for a second before he carried on with his speech.

That voice of his. There was only one way to describe it.

It was loud.

That impressive set of vocal chords of his can boom out like nothing she had ever heard of before and it would be really helpful if he was in an open space like a square. She was so used to Marius' soft voice and breathy laugh that if she compares it to this man, Marius would be a harp or a flute while this one might be a band of war drums.

She was so incorporated by her thoughts that she didn't notice that the whole room now staring at her with her finger on her chin whilst standing on a chair. The man, who she was talking to earlier, had his shoulders shaking in order to keep his laughing quiet.

"May we help you with something mademoiselle?" the blond asked with a thick brow arched in inquiry.

Eponine felt a crippling blow of embarrassment as she hopped down from the chair and clasped her hands behind her. The men looked at her with curiosity and scrutiny. "What's the brat of Thenardier doing here?" a disembodied voice said. Her eyes narrowed to the direction she had heard it. Yes, you all better look away, she scathingly thought.

"Regardless," the blond pressed on, "We shall continue this tomorrow, same time in front of the square. We shall hand out the patches and look for supporters."

Every single one filed out the same way they did in entering. Only a few remained, one of them was the drunk and the blond. She watched him talk to the chestnut haired boy with intense gestures, like an experienced orator in a declamation contest. The drunken monsieur had another mug in his hand that was filled with whiskey while laughing with a young faced fellow and one with his hair tied into a neat ponytail. There were another three who sat on the back, reading several parchments and books.

The blond, who must have sensed that she was watching him, turned to her and crossed his arms, "What is your true purpose?"

She held up her chin and announced, "I was waiting for Monsieur Marius. That's my only purpose for coming here."

He scoffed at her and turned his back on her once more. That action made her seethe inside and she fought the urge to throw that thick book at his fat head.

"You are well aware that this isn't his house, yes? Don't wait around here if you have no business with us."

Oh how he infuriates her! This man already made her list within a few sentences; it even broke the record of her putting the Patron-Minette on the top within two days.

"Frankly monsieur," she sneered, "I wouldn't even join this little group of yours even if you asked me."

The man stopped whatever he was doing and slowly looked at her with a serious face. It was the first time she saw that he has bluish-grey eyes. Such an odd colour, she thought before he was suddenly standing right in front of her.

He towered over her cleanly by a head and he kept his gaze on her eyes as he growled out, "This is not just any group. This is a revolution in the making. Pardon if it was none of your concern but we're trying to have a better future for everyone."

This man is not like what Eponine has encountered before. He could shift from being an arrogant bâtard to a fierce commander. She pursed her lips, aware of the attention they both gained. The chestnut haired one approached them and placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder, "Let it be Enjorlas, the gamin woman knows no better-"

"Excuse me," Eponine hissed as she grinded her teeth. "This 'gamin woman' knows more than what you schoolboys were taught by your books. I can read and write though not as grand as the others but I can tell which passage can lead to another passage in Paris and what time the guards exchange their posts. Don't every look down on a gamin because one mistake and you will be on your back while you look up to me."

She never took pride on being a street dweller but these boys needed to be taught a lesson. They say they fight for the poor but they don't even know how one lived on the streets. They looked at each other except for the leader, Enjorlas, who just stared at her. The chestnut haired one took a step forward and bowed his head, "Je suis désolé for my ignorance mademoiselle. I did not intend to offend you."

She pulled a face before she dramatically turned her back and began to climb down before simply saying, "Tell your leader that everyone outside could hear him if he speaks in a loud voice. That will make you easier to catch by Inspector Javert or any other dogs of the law."

Combeferre sighed as he watched the woman disappear out of the cafe through the window. "Nicely done Combeferre" Grantaire taunted. He groaned before he went back near the desk and began to compose the speech they had to deliver within a few days.

"Oy Enjorlas. What's wrong with you" Joly asked as he watched him still standing there like he was rooted in the spot, "Are you in shock?"

And indeed he was.

No woman had ever declared of their status with great pride other than her. Most women would hide that fact with raggedy gowns that faded in colors and sprayed themselves with cheap perfume. Some had even gone out of their way to wear glass jewelleries and tried to talk in a manner which stereotypical rich folk would. That woman who waited for that Pontmercy fellow certainly had strength within her.

On the following days, they began to see more of the gamin whose name was actually Eponine. And she confirmed Prouvaire's question that Thenardier is her father.

So that was the reason why some had been wary of her. He had heard of stories about a street gang being led by her father. Dark tales wove around their little organization that could really make one's flesh crawl. But Eponine didn't look the type to steal things. Maybe she could assault someone with that temper of hers but she doesn't steal... or so he thinks. He couldn't think which one was worst.

-x-

Eponine blew a stray hair out of her face as she sat on one of the chairs in Cafe Musain. Marius said he would just step out for a bit but she knew he was just trying to check up on his grandfather who had cut ties with him. 'What a dramatic family,' she thought sarcastically.

She had come into speaking terms with the inner circle of the group which was Les Amis de l'ABC. She would call them in wrong names just to amuse herself and it would irritate them to no end. They were a bunch of alright guys, especially the brotherly Courfeyrac and Grantaire who is such a happy drunk, much unlike her papa who turns violent every time alcohol entered his system.

The only one she can't stand to be alone with was Enjorlas. He was such a serious worrier that it was hard for her to find a common ground between them. He would either ignore her or tell her to get out whenever she tried to talk him with the way she talks with Marius. As she yawned widely, she heard several scratching of the quill on a parchment in a furious pace. The roll was already half-filled with scribbles but most of them were lined out.

A few mutters from him were heard and maybe even a well-placed curse here and there. 'So the proper gentleman knows how to curse as well,' she smiled at herself. And with them alone together in the whole floor, this might be the chance to get to know him more.

Oh, no, it's not because she likes him. Always remember, the more you get to know a person, the more you could take advantage of him. But she would never do that to Marius. That would be devious of her.

So she stalked silently behind Enjorlas' slouched form and looked over his shoulder. The lines were the parts of his newest speech he would recite in front of the Elephant of Bastille with Combeferre. But as she watched his progress, he's already crashing down like a broken gargoyle wing from one of the stone guardians down to the steps of Notre Dame.

She leaned on the desk with her hands cushioning her back from the hard edge of the wood and watched him work. His eyebrows were scrunched and his lips were pursed together. She then caught him whispering about 'monetary problems' and 'unjust trials'.

He truly cares about the people, but he lacks... what was the word? Oh yes; inspiration. He lacks a proper inspiration that's why he can't make a good speech! Eponine gave herself a pat on the back and tried to think of a way to get his attention.

Clearing her throat didn't work as well as humming out loud. Nothing can faze him so she suddenly got an idea. It was so bold, so daring, and so risky that it drove the adrenaline to her blood stream.

Should she or should she not?

Not knowing much about him was a disadvantage for her. There was no telling on how he would react. He could either shrug it off or he could have her 'exiled' from the cafe if he wanted to. And friend or no friend, the boys will follow Enjorlas' orders.

'May God have mercy in my poor soul' she mentally sighed and lifted her hand.

She closed her hand around his hair that reached the nape of his neck and yanked it. As gently as she could of course. That did the trick. He was jolted out of his thoughts and looked around as though he was transported to another place. He saw Eponine covered her mouth with her hand and avoided his gaze.

Seeing as she was the only here besides him, it was safe to say she was the culprit behind the 'assault'.

"You are thinking too much monsieur. Surely you can think of a whole parchment of magnificent words for your speech on the spot tomorrow" she smirked; she absolutely loved that tiny vein throb by his temple. It was a sign that he's impatient and she was the only who managed to make him look like that whenever they talked to one another. Though it isn't something to be proud of.

"Don't patronize me. I had been awake all night to finish my studies and prepare for tomorrow's first proclamation against the corrupt by the Elephant of Bastille" Enjorlas replied in a grumpy tone.

Eponine suddenly felt sympathy for him. He does the work times ten than an average member. Combeferre and the others had offered to help him but he prefers to do things on his own. What a strange man, one who prefers to keep everything to himself yet he had managed to form a group and fight for a good cause.

"You just have to think about what is really important," Eponine offered, "Remember why you are doing this in the first place. The poor won't understand those terms you law students use so just keep them simple."

Enjorlas kept silent so she took it as a sign to leave. She wasn't sure but she thought she heard him quietly say "Thank you..." before she walked out of the cafe and wander around the streets of Paris.

"-we will rise against the king and all of his men! We shall fight for our freedom! We shall fight for France!"

A triumphant roar echoed through the square. The poor and university students alike cheered on as the Les Amis handed out dozens of patches. Some had already pinned theirs on the pockets of their coats while some had taken their time studying the colors of the flag corporate to the patch.

Enjorlas gave a small smile and a last cry of "Vive le France!" before he climbed down the makeshift stage made out of layered wooden planks. Out of the sea of faces, he managed to get a glimpse of the gamin girl whose face brightened like the sun. Her smile was wide and her eyes sparkled that he can't help but smile back. Only to see her eyes roam around the stage. With a corner of his eye, he followed her gaze that was solely focused on Marius who was busy giving out patches and telling the supporters their next rendezvous.

What a strange woman, he thought. He felt a bit stupid to think she was interested to him. But women are such fickle creatures, they are of uncharted territories that one would be lost without a map and compass to spare. And now her compass needle was pointing straight to Marius.

Enjorlas shook his head and followed the others to retreat to Cafe Musain; he didn't notice his own arrow was slowly pointing to her direction. If only he was brave enough to explore that unfamiliar territory that was Eponine.

A/N: Hmmm, should I write a sequel of this? Meh, you guys can just decide for me ;) The next one will be in AU. Don't forget to review! And for Pete's sake (I don't know any Pete) people, don't just limit it to five reviews per chapter, I can see all you alert readers out there O.O But please, no flames.

P.S. Je suis désolé - "I'm sorry" used by male speakers