A week had passed since Thénardier and his wife had last spoken. It was then that she had left him alone to clean up the inn after a long night, and spent the next two nights staying with friends. He spent his lone torture plotting, and meant for silence when she came back. It would build the tension he intended to break.

After 5 days of absolutely no marital interchange, Madame Thénardier had grown fond of her own thoughts and freedom to take whatever pickings of customer – or 'target' – she pleased. On the last night of quiet, Madame was at her usual; scrounging for gifts from patrons.

The first part of the evening was spent collecting hairpins and attempting to aggregate a wholly new guise, but she had been lucky to have a wealthy punter attend the evening. After a friendly kiss, and seemingly accidental slip of her tongue, Thénardiess had managed to exhume the man's coin-purse and thrust it down the top of her corset.

Soon she grew tired and found a faded wooden perch under the stairs, but immediately felt an arm grab around her waist from behind. She stood, startled, and pushed backwards.

"My love," her husband's voice whispered, wrapping his other hand around her, too.

"You bloody bugger!" Madame pulled away and turned aggressively towards him. "I thought you was a kidnapper tryn'a kidnap me!"

"I might be, still," Monsieur smirked playfully and tried to grab her again.

He was halted and thrusted farther away: "Stop it, you shit."

"'Ey, now, lovely," Monsieur grabbed her shoulders and looked into the eyes he chose to match his, "is it gone?"

Madame shifted uncomfortably under his touch.

"Is what gone?" she answered, weary and irritated, her arms hugged across her chest.

"Us," Monsieur's jaw shivered slightly and his eyes grew glassy.

Madame saw emotion in the man she had spent her life with that she had never seen before. He seemed almost concerned about a serious matter; one unrelated to their usual serious affairs regarding Javert and acquaintances.

"What d'you mean?" The woman squinted suspiciously, not yet sure of his approach.

"I mean; we's used to be in love and all'o'that stuff," Monsieur looked downwards, hiding his face and then covering it with his hand.

Madame heard a sniff and grinned widely.

"Are you crying, ya poofter?" She stepped into him, trying to pull his hands away without giggling.

"No," Thénardier grumbled from under cloth and limbs, pulling away from her, "I'm not."

"You are, you big softie!"

Madame couldn't hold in her laugh, although it was slightly maniacal due to default.

Thénardier moaned, pushing her arms away and looking at her with red eyes, "Stop it."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Madame replied silly and mindlessly, stepping away indirectly.

"STOP IT!" Monsieur yelled angrily at her, fists and teeth clenched.

Madame looked shocked, having not heard anger from him in a long time; directed at her, at least.

"I love you – is that a problem?" he snapped at her, holding his stance and staring straight at her.

The room of regulars had grown quiet. They were seeing the most interesting of things that night; the merry innkeeper and his wife were not so merry.

"I-" Monsieur whispered, dropping his gaze and guts to speak again.

"No, lovie," Madame stepped in and hugged his chest tightly; "I love you, too."

The couple embraced longingly, ignoring all else happening in the world. Madame had hope for a moment like this, because, dare she speak it, she did yearn for a little romance in her world of unhappy gloom.

Monsieur started rubbing her back in comfort before pulling away to see her face. She looked up at him with childish delight, smiling softly.

At once her took her in his arms and lifted her, bringing her face to his height and kissing her passionately. Madame moaned softly, having not felt so alive in a long time. She kissed back harder than ever, and when he dropped her to the ground again, he backed her towards the wall under the stairs.

There he started stirring his hands about her waist, slowly growing higher and higher. He felt for the strings of her corset and undid them slightly.

"We have customers!" She sniggered, pushing him away.

"I don't care," he responded, pushing her further into the corner and out of their sight.

Again he grabbed at her corset, but had moved on to the front. He dragged a hand up to the low opening at her chest and plunged it inside. Madame leant her head back and sighed faintly, pushing her pelvis against him and feeling his hand rubbing against her bare breast.

"Ah," Monsieur looked up at her. He grinned before retracting his hand bearing the coin purse he had been looking for.

Madame looked at him confusedly while he stepped back and gathered his wits, before pecking his wife affectionately on the cheek.

"'Love you!" he grinned and escaped the pub in search of his friends.

After shock wore off, Madame smiled softly, putting her head in her hands out of embarrassment rather than anger.

She called after him, sure she meant it; "I love you, too."

Thank you for all the lovely reviews! I couldn't resist a sequel. x