Later that night Enjolras paced the floor of the Musain's back room with a determined anxiousness. To think, he'd met the sister Courfeyrac always spoke of! He'd been expecting something very different from the cunning and witty girl he'd met on the streets.

What was he to do? Enjolras checked his watch impatiently. Still another hour before the others would arrive. Before she would arrive.

Women weren't allowed during the meetings. It was a rule all of the men had agreed on when the founders, Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac, had started the group. Even Courfeyrac, reputed for his flirtatious manner, had been without doubt on this decision. Meetings were for progress, productivity, and for gathering together. Not for flirting and courting.

Conflicted, Enjolras stopped pacing and sat down for the seventeenth time in that hour. He tried to focus on the maps and notes for his speeches in front of him, but as he stared all he could see was the quirked smile and mischievous gleam in Annette's eyes as she led him through Paris.

Concentrate, Enjolras scolded himself. The others depend on you to lead them, so lead them well. Besides, what did it matter if one woman came to one meeting? If she proved to be another one of the grisettes seeking a lover then it would be obvious and he would have no trouble in showing her the door. On the other hand, she did appear to have much to offer.

Indeed, if what she said were true, the Friends of the ABC would have a much broader range. If men saw that women were getting involved, they might recognize the gravity of the situation at last.

Enjolras absentmindedly shuffled his notes and sketches into a neat pile in front of him as he thought. Today was only a trial, nothing more. Nothing would need to change, and the group could continue as it always had.

Enjolras was unaware as the minutes slipped by. He remained still as stone in his seat, and could have passed as a statue but for the vividness of his color and the slight smile that ghosted his lips. He was a painting, frozen and beautiful and infinite.

Then he heard the lock click in the door and Combeferre entered. Enjolras looked up and smiled in greeting.

"Have a good speech for tonight?" The bespectacled student said as he strode towards Enjolras. Enjolras shook his head as he replied, "One can only hope."

Combeferre smiled and sat down, glancing at the papers spread out on the table. "How long have you been here?" He asked.

"A couple of hours. I worked and studied and..." Enjolras trailed off as he suddenly wondered at what his friend's reaction to his news would be.

"Did you know the workers from the clothing factories went on strike?" Remarked Combeferre as he watched Enjolras. "They are demanding their civil rights. I do believe we may use this example to our advantage."

Enjolras nodded distractedly, to which Combeferre frowned and began again.

"What do you think? We can rally the people in your speeches to demand the rights to which they are entitled, and with that desire for freedom they will want more. We promise more with the Republic ideal, and they may join our crusade."

Enjolras emitted a quiet "hmm" as Combeferre spoke. It wasn't that he was purposefully intending to be rude, but his mind was busy with the thoughts that had been plaguing his mind.

But of course Combeferre was quite used to this.

"What is it, mon ami? You are distracted; share with me what it is that troubles you." His voice was mild and unwavering, and Enjolras responded guiltily.

"It's nothing important. I am simply busy tonight. I have something I wish to share with you." Enjolras pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from one of his notebooks and handed it to his friend. Combeferre took it and his brow creased with curiosity.

As he read Enjolras felt his heart hammering in his chest. Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all. He had seen too many failed uprisings, and the Amis could not, would not be part of that. This revolution had to succeed.

Finally, Combeferre looked up and said, "You must have done quite a bit of work to get this. Daughters of the Republic? They are a historical group that's been around since...oh, well, let's just say my grandmother was part of the original group. Where did you get this?"

Enjolras stared at him in disbelief. "You know of them?" He asked.

Combeferre cocked a grin as he adjusted his glasses. "Yes. My grandmother used to tell me stories of great new worlds with freedom and liberty and all of those ideals, but never thought I understood. When I was ten I found one of these flyers and asked her about it. She told me then as much as she was allowed. So yes, i know of them, what they believe in and such, but not much else. They are a very secretive and select group."

Enjolras inhaled deeply and said, "One of the members met me in the street today. It seemed like a complete accident, but it would have been too much of a coincidence."

"What did she say?" Asked Combeferre as he leaned forwards intently.

Enjolras paused a moment, searching his face for any misgivings. "She said...they want to join us, to ally our two groups."

Combeferre exhaled and leaned back. "And What did you say?" Enjolras hesitated.

"I agreed. One of their members will be coming to this meeting to listen, and they will bring information from that group. But, Combeferre..."

"You agreed before consulting anyone else?" Combeferre sat calmly with his eyes boring into Enjolras'. Enjolras nodded and flared up.

"It is time we get to action! We spent months, years even, on our plans, and they have carried us nowhere. We not only have barely a handful of men, but gendarmes are getting crueler and harsher every day, and are still on our tails. If it does not seem suitable, we need never invite them again. What do you think?"

Combeferre wore a thoughtful and slightly veiled amused expression. "I think you're right, mon ami. We do need a broader range of listeners who will help in our campaign for a peaceful future, and including such a group is a powerful move. Let us meet the girl tonight, and then we shall all decide together if she should return. Agreed?"

Enjolras nodded, relieved. It was good to have Combeferre know. Perhaps they should keep all discussions with whoever was coming between Combeferre and him alone. The others didn't need to speak to her at all until they came to a more permanent decision. It would be better this way.

"Did the girl tell you her name?" Asked Combeferre. The question struck Enjolras for the first time as remarkable. The name he'd been repeating to himself over and over. It was the name of one of his closest friends! Courfeyrac. Something stuck in his throat as he struggled to tell Combeferre.

"No," he said, "she did not."

Hi, readers! This is my first story I've published, so feedback and reviews are appreciated!