"But, why isn't he coming with us?" The soft voice of a young child broke through the silence again. They were sat in a carriage, their belongings packed and on the roof as they rode through the countryside.

"He does not live with us, my child."

"He did!" The stubborn voice spoke up again.

Valjean sighed, running a hand through his daughter's soft hair. He did not know how to explain properly to Cosette that Javert could not come with them. It was true the man had been frequently around when they had been living in Montreuil sur Mer, but that had not been as a response to the friendship Valjean had been trying to begin; the man had been collecting evidence.

Valjean had enjoyed spending time with Javert. They had spent a great deal of time together; eating, playing chess, reading... simply sitting around, with no real plan to do anything. It had been wonderful. They had even been several occasions when Javert had fallen asleep beside him, his head dropping down onto the shoulder of his mayor.

Cosette had gotten used to making use of him in her games, and the inspector had happily indulged her. No. No, he hadn't. He had been gathering evidence to support his claim that the mayor was a criminal. He had been heartless, and it was important to remember that.

Valjean simply had to forget how the man looked when he slept, so still that Valjean had several times worried the other man had stopped breathing. He had to forget the warmth of his body, the soft sighs he let out as he woke up.

He had to forget the adorably bemused look Javert often donned when confronted with emotions. It was a little bit sad how the officer simply could not understand why something like love may make someone willing to break the law. Javert had stated several times that love was where you wanted the best for the object of your emotions, and so could not understand why a person would be willing to risk jail for them.

Javert did not understand love. He did not understand jealousy. He did not know why the mayor had gotten so upset when Cosette wanted to play with him instead of her adoptive father. He assumed, in that oddly detached way of his, that Mayor Madeleine would prefer a little time to himself, instead of constantly having a child under foot.

Valjean wondered if he understood betrayal. Not in the way of written rules, of a spoken promise of anything so obvious, but betrayal of friendship. Was that why the man had hesitated slightly when he had come to arrest the only person in the town who had befriended him?

Did he understand affection? Did he have a fondness for Cosette, for Valjean? Did he enjoy spending time with them? Surely he had better things to do, day and night, than gather evidence on the off chance the Mayor was a criminal rather than the respectable Madeleine he played?

Valjean certainly hoped so; several times he had thought there had been a hint of a smile of the other's thin lips, a twinkle in his eye that depicted amusement. As difficult as it may be for Javert to dredge up any feelings, he must have about managed it on several occasions during their time together.

Regardless, they had left. Javert had stood before him, the strong hand of the law, and denounced him. Valjean had told the policeman he would not go to jail, else Cosette be abandoned. He had stated that he would be destroyed if such a thing happened. Javert had stopped advancing and stared at him, with something in his eyes that resembled sorrow.

Valjean had slowly edge towards the door and left, running once he had left the room. Javert had not chased him down, not to his home, or while they had left the town. Perhaps, he had had some feelings for them.

He raised his eyes to the large house before them. The exterior had been painted a horrific pink/red colour that clashed horrible with the picturesque views around them. However, it had been fairly cheap and easy to rent.

The lower apartment was apparently owned by three women. Monsieur Gillenormand had scowled at this, but had not elaborated on what it was that bothered him. Valjean had not asked. The apartment above them was rented by a young man named Enjolras, who was raising mice, or rats... some kind of rodent. Gillenormand had not thought to forbid it when the young man had moved in, not considering it an issue and now it was too late to add it into their contract.

Valjean had been told 'No animals.' He suspected now this was why.

Their apartment was the middle one. It had been empty for a long time, apparently, but when Gillenormand had inherited the property he had tidied it out and tried to hire it. He claimed that people were easily spooked by the house refusing to stay in it for any length of time, but he insisted that these ghost stories were due to over active imaginations.

Valjean had nodded his head, assuring the old man he would not flee after the first night, but try to settle into the place.

"Good." He had stated. "Good. I had a sister go missing from here a long time ago. I was only a babe at the time, and I do not remember her, but since then no one has stayed here long. It is good to see this house will be a home again."

Valjean had felt a chill come over him, but dismissed it. Cosette was a good child, she knew not to run off too far and she was very trustworthy. As long as he set out sensible guidelines, she would be safe.

As the old man left, he pushed the shoulder of the boy talking to Cosette, hurrying him down the path to the carriage. Cosette turned and grinned happily at her Papa. Perhaps they could live happily here...