Cosette came dancing into the room that she shared with Jondrette. The gamin looked up from his task (rebraiding a rope that he spent the night before unwinding) and raised an eyebrow. Cosette shook her hair from beneath her cap and perched on her bed. Jondrette put down his rope and placed his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in his hands.

"Last night you came in crying and tonight you come in like someone just showed you the answers to all of life's questions." He stated, and Cosette looked at him, slightly confused.

"You weren't here last night."

"I came in right behind you- I'm good at being quiet." The boy said, and his gaze told her that he was ready to know the story behind her smile.

"Well… I told him." She stated, in a sing-song tone. Jondrette's face fell for a second before he replaced it with his regular mask of indifference.

"Told who, what?"

"I told Marius about…" She giggled. "Well, you know."

"Oh." Was all the other figure had to say. Cosette sighed and fell back onto her mattress, clutching her cap to her chest.

"I think… I love him. And, I think that he loves me too!" She squealed and could feel the burning of her grin as her lips made indents on her face. It took her a few minutes to register the silence on the other side of the cabin. When she looked, she was very nearly taken aback by the despair in her companion's eyes. "Jonny, what's wrong?"

"Don't call me Jonny." He said, slowly. He said nothing else, but squirmed under his sheets as if ready for sleep. They spent a good amount of time like this: Cosette peering across the room at Jondrette, who was laying on his back and looking at the ceiling with wide eyes. The candle flickered on the little dresser that sat between their beds, and Cosette carefully puckered her lips and blew a puff of air. The flame vanished, flooding the cabin in darkness.

"Jondrette…" Cosette said after a while. "Do you love me as well?"

There was a snort and then a softly-spoken yet harsh statement. "Don't be so full of yourself."

That was all that was said on the matter.


The next day was particularly stormy, and whoever was not on duty conversed in the mess hall. There was a certain gloomy air about, and no one seemed in the mood for their usual cheerful banter. Instead, they spoke of the things they left behind. Cosette sat in between Marius and her father, listening as he recounted the story of his initial arrest to the group of curious schoolboys.

Across the room, Enjolras was trying to keep his small book open as he took notes. However, it was increasingly difficult to hold the book open whilst writing and trying to keep the ink bottle from spilling. Giving up on doing the task by himself, he called over the first sailor he saw. "Jondrette!"

"Yes, Monsieur?" The shadow replied, slipping (for indeed, the youth seemed to glide rather than walk) over to the older boy.

"I need you to read aloud to me, if you will." Enjolras instructed. Jondrette turned beet red, but raised his chin as if accepting a difficult challenge. The book changed hands, and Jondrette flipped to the dog-eared page of 'The Social Contract'.

"The first… person who, having en…closed a p-p-lot of land, took it in… to his head to say this is mee-mi-my-ne and found people sye-sih-mple enough to be-" Jondrette was cut off by an impatient Enjolras, who snatched the book out of his hands.

"You could have told me if you cannot read."

"I can too!" Jondrette exclaimed. "I can also write!" He grabbed Enjolras' quill and a sheet of paper. He bent over the table, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he scribbled out a statement on the paper. He stood up, triumphant. "There! Told you so."

Enjolras stood to look over the boy's shoulders. As he did so, he saw a curiously long strand of hair that escaped his cap. Ignoring the odd sight, he read aloud what Jondrette wrote. "Les cognes est dans le région." He frowned at the sight and took the quill from Jondrette's hand. "First of all, you shouldn't refer to the police as 'cognes'. The more correct term would be 'police' or 'flics'. And that's a wrong verb… It wouldn't be 'The cops is', it would be 'The cops are'."

"Well, I'm sorry that I never had the opportunity to learn anythin' but argot and a couple other words." Jondrette growled and turned to leave. However, a slightly softened Enjolras grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"This is what we're- what I'm- fighting against, Jondrette. Why don't you let me teach you?" He asked. Jondrette's scowl deepened and he pulled away.

"I won't do that for you. Jesus, it's all you men want. Girl or boy, anyone to fill your need." He snapped, and Enjolras' eyes widened when he realized what the boy meant.

"No! Oh, God, no. I would never!" He seemed truly appalled at the prospect, and Jondrette's face relaxed into a slight smile.

"You would really teach me? For free?" He asked, hopefully.

"Yes, Jondrette. We start tomorrow." Enjolras' return to 'stiff leader' was enough of a hint for Jondrette to leave the First Mate alone. As the Ship's Boy walked away, he couldn't wipe his excited grin off his face. He passed his brother on his way out, and Gavroche raised his eyebrows at the pleased expression on the 15-year-old's face.

Jondrette ignored his brother and pushed onto the deck, ready to relieve Bahorel of his watch duty. He didn't even mind the rain.

After all, a little fall of rain could hardly hurt him after some of the things he'd been through.


A/N: les cognesest dans la région- The cops is in the area

argot- a dialect often used in the slums of Paris

Hey there my lovely readers! Sorry for not updating in… What? Two weeks? I had major writer's block. Plus my little author's protest of not updating until I got a certain amount of reviews on one of my stories… *hides away in shame*

I felt that it was really important for this little interaction between Enjolras and Éponine… (Don't worry: I won't refer to her as 'him' for forever... Just for most of the story.)