Enjolras walked moodily along the street, pulling his jacket more tightly around himself as a chill wind whipped up. He wasn't sure where to go. Courfeyrac had pretty much kicked his housemates out for the evening as his new girlfriend had the night off. Combeferre had gone to his own girlfriend's house so Enjolras had headed to the bar. Once there, however, he discovered it was Single's Night, and while Feuilly and Grantaire seemed to be having a whale of a time, he didn't much fancy having to fend off unwanted female attention all night.

So here he was, alone and with nowhere to go on a Friday night. How sad, he thought, even for me. Maybe I should just listen to everyone and loosen up a little. Have a drink, pull a random girl.

He knew it would be easy. He got more than his fair share of girls offering themselves to him. He only had to go back to the bar, there were plenty of them there. He shook his head. Who was he kidding? He'd done the one-night-stand thing more than once and had always felt terrible the next morning. He was never as attracted to the woman in the sober light of day, and he had no idea what to say to her, so it usually fell to Combeferre to make her coffee and get rid of her on his behalf.

He had decided that sort of relationship wasn't for him. The Eponine Episode, as he referred to it in his mind (not that he had thought about it constantly since it happened or anything) had made him realise that he wanted something more. Perhaps not love exactly, but someone to spend time with. Like Marius and Cosette. They were happy spending practically every spare second together and, if he was being honest with himself, he was jealous.

Thinking of Marius and Cosette, he remembered that Marius had borrowed several books from him weeks ago. No time like the present to get them back. With any luck, Cosette would be out and he and Marius could discuss the case they were both currently assigned to. Enjolras quickened his step and was soon knocking at the door of the little house Marius had bought the year before. Through the glass in the front door he could see a shadowy figure approach, much shorter than Marius. Oh well, so much for Cosette being out.

The person who opened the door was not Cosette, in fact, but Eponine. His pulse quickened and his mouth was suddenly dry. It was the first time they had met since the doorway over a week ago and he thought it would be awkward to talk to her. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when she smiled brightly.

"Hi," she said, moving away from the door to let him in from the cold.

"Hello," he replied, clearing his throat as his voice came out squeakier than usual. "Is Marius home?" He was confused as to why Eponine was answering his friend's front door in her pajamas.

Eponine shook her head. "They've gone to visit Cosette's dad for the weekend. I'm house-sitting. I had to get away from Musichetta and her boyfriend. I don't think they realise how thin the walls in our flat are!"

"Yeah, Courfeyrac kicked me out for the night so he and his girlfriend can...um...spend time together." He raised his eyebrows and Eponine laughed. He swallowed hard at the sound. She looked different, beautiful. Her face was scrubbed of makeup and her hair was loose and damp, letting him know she had just showered. The thought of her showering, massaging shampoo into her hair, came unbidden into his mind. He turned towards the door when he realised he had been staring at her. "I'll let you get back to your evening."

"No!" Eponine grabbed his arm and began dragging him towards the kitchen. "I'm so bored on my own! I thought I'd love the peace and quiet, but actually, I kind of annoy myself. But now that you're here, you can entertain me." She deposited Enjolras on a stool at the counter. He took off his scarf and raised an eybrow.

"And what exactly am I supposed to do to entertain you?" He asked, dreading the answer, but knowing he would probably do whatever she asked anyway. Eponine pursed her lips.

"A few things come to mind," she said, smiling devilishly. "But those can wait. Tell me some juicy gossip!" Her eyes sparkled as she leaned over the counter and he couldn't help noticing the way her hair fell around her shoulders or how incredibly tight her pajama top was across her breasts. He blushed and looked away.

"I'm not really the best person to ask about gossip," he said, desperately racking his brains to think of something worth mentioning as the sparkle in her eyes faded. "But I did see Grantaire with two busty blondes on his lap earlier."

Eponine laughed in delight. "I never thought I would hear the Great Enjolras say 'busty blond'!"

Enjolras smiled too, happy to have made her laugh again. "I'm not quite as uptight as everyone seems to think I am." He said, shrugging off his jacket.

"No, I don't suppose you are," Eponine replied, suddenly serious and narrowing her eyes. "Especially if that kiss was anything to go by." She looked him straight in the eyes and he held her gaze, even as a wild scarlet blush set his face alight. Time slowed as they looked at each other, and Enjolras found it increasingly hard to breathe. He had an overwhelming urge to kiss her, to pick her up and throw her on the table and pleasure her roughly until she begged for mercy. His heart pounded and he was suddenly convinced that Eponine could see into his mind when she licked her lips and leaned forward ever so slightly, making her chest strain even more against the fabric of her top.

Suddenly, Eponine blinked and moved away from the counter, breaking the moment. She busied herself making tea as Enjolras forced himself to think of anything but what she would feel like underneath him. If he had been paying attention, he might have noticed how much her hands were shaking as she poured the water, and how hard she was trying to control her breathing. She picked up the tray and he followed her out of the kitchen.

"So," she said, looking at him mischieviously over her shoulder, as she led the way to the living room. "Tell me more about these busty blondes!"

"Can I ask you a question?" It was a few hours later, and Enjolras and Eponine had spent an enjoyable evening, talking about everything from movies and music to politics and philosophy. They had been in good spirits, even when debating their differing views on the latest general election, laughing together at terrible reality tv shows and getting comfortably tipsy after raiding Marius' surprisingly well-stocked liquor cabinet.

"Can I ask you a question?" Eponine repeated, looking over the rim of her glass at Enjolras, who was nearly asleep on the sofa with Cosette's kitten on his chest.

"As long as it isn't personal," he mumbled, fighting the drowsiness that always invaded his senses when he drank whiskey.

"How many women have you slept with?"

Enjolras raised his head, eyes open wide and looked at Eponine incredulously. "That's probably the most personal question anyone's ever asked me!"

Eponine smiled wickedly. She enjoyed making him uncomfortable, and besides, she was genuinely curious. "How many?" She asked again, cocking her head to the side.

"That's none of your business and I don't keep count." Enjolras said, really not prepared to have this conversation with her. The kitten yawned and stretched, plucking lightly at his sweater until he tickled the top of its head with his fingertips. He laid his head back on the arm of the sofa and closed his eyes again.

"Of course you do. You're a guy." Eponine stated, apparently not willing to take the hint and drop the subject. "All guys keep count, whether they mean to or not. Women do it too!" She said, holding up her hand to stop the argument she knew Enjolras was about to start. He closed his mouth and looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"How many men have you been with?" He asked her, surprising himself with how important it suddenly was for him to know how many men had been intimate with Eponine. It made him angry to think of anyone touching her, doing to her what he was increasingly longing to do.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," Eponine said with a grin. He frowned at her for a few seconds before rolling his eyes.

"Ok," he sighed. "After three."

"One..."

"Two..."

"Three..." There was a moment's pause, then they both spoke at the same time.

"Eight." "Three."

Thanks everyone for the reviews, and thank you so much for reading! It really does mean so much to me.