She rests in a smelly alley. It's late at night but she doesn't want to go home and see her father. Unfortunately God is not on her side and someone appears far worse than Monsieur Thernardie.

"What's up 'Ponine" she hears the drunken voice of Montparnasse.

"Um, good" she says standing up and putting herself at safe distance.

"Oh, I know, I've heard the rumors" he backs her against the wall.

"What rumors?" she asks turning her head away from his stinky breath.

"You know, your little escapades with The Law" his face is inches from hers now.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about 'Parnasse" she feels his icy hands start to rummage under her skirt.

"Has he touched you here or is he as honorable as he claims?" his hands move freely around her body, her ragged clothes making his task easier.

"Pl-please, 'Parnasse, don't do this" she struggles to get free but this only causes for him to become more aggressive.

"So that pompous rat can touch you and I can't" she whimpers trying not to think in the pain he is causing by biting her collarbone "your father sent me to punish you, but I'm the one who's choosing how to"

"Please" she cries "I didn't do anything, I swear" he just strikes her hand on the thigh making tears start to run down her cheeks.

"If I was you, I would listen to the mademoiselle" her heart stops and she starts to think she is delirious.

But a globed hand takes the collar of Montparnasse's stained shirt and throws him to the floor. He looks at her sideways, then at the back of the alley where two agents are taking the criminal to quarters. He stands impassive, not moving a muscle until he sees them disappear.

He kneels taking his black coat and puts it around her. He scoops her up, carrying her bridal style. She holds onto his broad shoulders, rests her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes listening to his footsteps like a tired child.


He leaves her in a strange bed, in a strange room, in a strange house with his coat still around her almost naked body. She was right, his house is really big, he must be rich… the truth is Inspector Javert it's a hardly well paid official, but in the innocent eyes of a poor girl he has everything she would ever wish for.

She tries occupying her mind with trivialities and finally falls asleep, but nightmares shake her one after the other until she wakes breathing hard. She starts to whimper when she remembers his hands running through her body, it feels so real that she tries to shake them off. She desperately gets up, her naked feet hitting the wooden floor.

Eponine opens what she believes is his door and stands shaking in the middle of the room watching his chest raising and falling calmly; even in sleep a frown mars his face. What she doesn't know is that Javert is a light sleeper and her labored breath is starting to wake him.

"Eponine?" he leans sleepy against the headboard.

She looks at his hairy chest and breathes deeply.

"Have you ever been with a woman Inspector?" she asks.

"Wha-"she lets the coat fall to the floor leaving her totally naked before him, the light of the moon caressing her skin.

"For God's sake, girl!" he struggles with the covers to reach her.

She tries to touch him but he takes her wrists, she bits her lip and leans forward kissing the part of his chest that can be seen under his shirt. He lets go of her and she immediately hugs him tightly, kissing his chest without stop.

"Take him away, take his hands away from me" she cries "please"

He looks at the roof and sighs. God forgive me.

He caresses her cheek, titling her head back so she is looking at him. She smiles sweetly and he can't resist anymore, he runs his callous hands up and down her back, making her forget the filthy touch of the criminal.


They're both naked. She's straddling him.

Javert looks at her almost lovingly while Eponine caresses and kisses every part of his body with virginal curiosity.

His work keeps him in good shape and the slum girl enjoys the feel of hard muscles beneath her hands. He is very big too; her petite hands look minuscule in comparison with his broad chest.

It's been so long, he almost forgot. His first time was rough and uncomfortable, he was a slum boy, just like her, and at the age of 12 one of those wretched women with enormous boobs and black teeth took him to her apartment and persuaded him to "fuck her hard". That experience was followed by some escapades in dark alleys until he fell in love with La SurĂªte.

His train of thoughts stops and he realizes Eponine is looking at him; it seems she has finished her exploration and doesn't know exactly what to do. He caresses her thighs making her sigh and close her eyes, he takes the chance to finally take the lead.

The Inspector is now on top of her and she suddenly feels his hardness pressing her thigh. Fear invades her but it goes as soon as she feels a sweet kiss on the forehead. He kisses the red mark on her collarbone and then the valley between her teenage breasts. The sounds that come from her mouth make him think his heart is going to explode and he wonders if she feels the same. He kisses her belly button and she giggles.

"You're tickling me" he looks at her and smiles wryly.

"Have you ever been with a man?" she shakes her head embarrassed.

"Breath, and look me in the eye" he runs his hand up and down her thigh.

He enters her slowly and her eyes widen as she digs her nails on his shoulders.


Javert leaves nothing of Montparnasse on her body, he only leaves a gentleness and care she thought he didn't have.

He doesn't say anything, he only settles beside her and looks at the roof.


She sleeps soundly on his chest, one arm around him.

Maybe, just maybe, people can change under the right circumstances, and as he looks at her content smile he knows he doesn't have to ask for God's forgiveness anymore. He puts his hand over hers.

She no longer rests in a smelly alley. Never again.