My lovely readers, where hath you gone?

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Pairings: J/C; E/E

Warm Hearts

"Eponine.. Eponine, wake up." Enjolras gently prodded Eponine's shoulder.

Eponine's head snapped up and hit the wall behind her. She groaned and slid out of the chair onto the floor with a humph. Enjolras frowned and went around the table, putting his arm on her elbow, helping her up.

"There you are, mademoiselle," he whispered. "You really fell asleep there. Glad to know my speeches about the rights for the poor using public places enthralled you so much." he smiled softly, but her face remained blank.

Eponine nodded slightly then shrugged on her threadbare coat. She looked about the empty room. Had she really been asleep for so long? She'd arrived to listen to the speech and tell Feuilly something, but fell asleep on the table. What was she so tried from again? The three days past were all a blur; she hadn't been the café since the day before the rally at General Lamarque's house. That was four days ago.

"Monsieur," she turned to Enjolras suddenly. "A quelle-heure?"

"Nearing midnight."

Eponine nodded again. She in no way wanted to go home. She wanted, needed, to stay at the café. In the next few days, Eponine would have major life choices to make. They would affect herself, Gavroche, and Azelma greatly, no matter what she chose. But first, for the night, she needed to clear her head, focus on something else.

Her face lit up into a bright smile; Enjolras felt his heart clench.

"Monsieur, will you do me a favor?" she asked brightly. Her sudden change of mood threw Enjolras a little off guard, but then again, he wasn't used to women.

He paused before answering, "Cet dépend."

"Can you.. distract me for the next couple of hours?" Enjolras must have looked taken a-back because Eponine began to giggle slightly. "I just have a few things to mull over right now; I'd rather not spend tonight doing such, though. Can you show me some place? Teach me something utterly boring so I cannot think about it?"

Enjolras eyed her warily. He guessed it wouldn't be too hard; she was probably good for company. Mind you, he wouldn't know. The two, while they walked home together sometimes, never really did anything with the other outside of the revolution. "I suppose I can try, mademoiselle."

Eponine grinned and reached for her cap. "Wonderful. Merci, Enjolras."

They ended up at Enjolras' apartment. He had intended upon taking her to the library, but she found the idea too grand and said she'd rather go to the corner bakery. He had replied with the fact that he didn't bring along any money and she had said that wouldn't be a problem. So, he'd dragged her to his apartment as a last resort.

She was still a little giggly from her joke when they walked through the door. Enjolras could feel a slight bubble of anger beginning to form. Her giggles stopped the moment the door closed. He turned around, wondering if she had left, or passed out, or died. Nothing of the sort, though. Her mouth was just opened in a perfect 'o' shape and her eyes scanned his two bedroom apartment. He groaned and shrugged off his jacket.

"I know," he said, heading for one of the many bookcases that lined the wall.

"It's small, but.. Good Lord, it's beautiful!" Eponine ran her hand over the leather bindings of his books when she walked over beside him. Below her, her bare feet relished the feel of the expensive rug. "Who is this all from?"

Enjolras pulled out a book and collapsed in the leather chair by the single window. "My father. Well, really my mother. She insisted; she loves me too much or something to let me live like a 'heathen.'" Enjolras looked over at Eponine; she blushed. He muttered an oath. "No. Forgive me. I didn't mean it like that. She did; I didn't.."

Eponine laughed uncomfortably. "It's alright, monsieur. I've been called worse."

Enjolras stood up suddenly. "Yes. Eponine. About that.."

Eponine turned around from the table near his kitchenette. "I don't think that there's anything that needs to be said, monsieur."

Enjolras wished to press the situation and his questions, but something about how her eyes suddenly were very cold made him rethink the idea. Still, he wouldn't go down without letting her know that they would be speaking about such things at some point.

"One day I'll pry it from you, Eponine." he meant for the comment to be slightly humorous, but it only resulted in Eponine closing her eyes in what seemed to be pain.

Eponine clenched her hand on the back of a chair. "So, your parents then? They wanted you to have all this and you didn't want it?" she scoffed. "I mean, you've got everything!" she ran a hand over a glass case which held simply air.

Enjolras shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I wished, when I started the revolution, to give up most of my worldly possessions. But that came after I moved to the university. When I moved away from home, my mother had been very worried I wouldn't be able to live without this. I would, and I am. I hardly ever come here.." he absentmindedly looked around the apartment.

"How come?"

"It's very stuffy," seemed to work as an excuse. Eponine nodded like she accepted it; he could tell she didn't.

"You get along with your folks?" she asked. If her asking questions were what kept her mind off of whatever it was that was troubling her, Enjolras was happy to play the part, but not when it came to things like this. He had a right to privacy, like she did.

Enjolras braced his shoulders and ignored her question. He walked over beside her. "Hungry," he asked. Eponine nodded slowly.

"But I don't want you to feed me, monsieur! I'm not a charity case for you and your rabble," she mumbled. Enjolras smiled slightly and rooted around for some cheese and bread.

"Suit yourself. I haven't eaten all day. Now is as good of a time as any." he placed the block cheese on the table and began looking for the bottle of wine. "And, Eponine?" she looked over at him; his eyes bore holes into hers. "You're not a charity case."

She smiled. "I guess I am a little hungry."

Jehan Prouvaire was anxious, again. She said she would come, in fact, she promised. It was the late afternoon and Cosette had promised the evening of the rally that he could take her to the garden nearby. That was four days ago, and while Jehan didn't know her too well, he did know she wouldn't break a promise.

He stood up and began to pace. Where is she? This was not the first time this had happened. Many a time before women had "stood him up." Jehan was a very sensitive young man, who believed love was the best thing the world had to offer, besides poetry and plants. He only wished one day he could find a woman who shared the same ideals. It seemed each day that the dream was farther and farther away. He'd hoped that Cosette maybe thought the same way, but if she didn't show up.. Well, he would know how she really felt. Like all the others, she would have only agreed to meet because she felt sorry for him.

It would be the age old: Poor Jehan. Lonely Jehan. Sickeningly sweet Jehan.

Finally, he gave up, convinced she felt the way he presumed.

Across town, that was not the case.

Cosette had been locked in her own house for four days. She was ready to kill herself with anger. Valjean had been so enraged by her actions he had "decreed" she could no longer leave until he saw fit. Of course, she was open to wander the grounds of the church, find redemption with God, but doing that would only make him happy.

This was the opposite of what she wanted.

She needed out, fresh air, Jehan's unruly hair. Cosette sat up straight. Oh God, Jehan! Le jardin! She had to get out for certain now. But how? A thin smile played across her lips. Opening the door to her room, Cosette looked down the hall. Her father wasn't home, he was at his factory. She could easily walk out of the church, but Sister Margareta had been instructed to watch her.

So, Cosette formed a plan.

And it worked, because, after all, street-rats and whore's daughters knew how to con.

When she reached the square where she and Jehan planned to meet, she was sad to find it empty besides two children racing after their mother. Out of breath, Cosette fell to a nearby bench. So much for leaving the convent; now she would have to return. Resigned to her fate of everlasting bondage, Cosette stood up and began back for her home.

"Cosette?" she heard; she turned quickly and her face broke into a smile.

"Jehan," she exclaimed. "Oh, heaven above! I apologize. I couldn't leave, you see! My father.. He's.. been strict lately."

Jehan nodded and looked to his right. "Yes."

Cosette cocked her head. "Is something the matter?"

"No, certainly not. Would you like to go now?"

Cosette nodded and he offered her his arm; she took it gratefully. Their walk was silent and uncomfortable. Cosette could tell he was feeling something other than he usual pep and happiness. She was probably the one who caused such feelings.

"Jehan, I really am sorry for not arriving on time. I was unable to leave." Jehan merely nodded. Cosette turned her head and frowned. "Well, if you're going to be a sour-puss," she muttered.

That brought out his angelic laugh. Cosette felt her heart still and her stomach flip. Jehan held her arm a little tighter, bringing her a little closer.

"You are a dear, Cosette." he smiled down at her, blushing slightly.

"Non, monsieur. That is not the case." she slipped her hand away from his arm when they reached the garden. "Oh good Lord! It's beautiful, Jehan!"

He smiled. "I know."

She pulled his arm through the iron gate. "Come on then. Show me the flowers."

Eponine sat forward in her chair. "You really are willing to die, then, monsieur?"

Enjolras nodded. "Yes. Pour Patria."

"You make it sound so simple," she replied. "I don't think it is."

"Well, planning to overthrow the government isn't simple, Eponine. I don't think I made it sound so." Enjolras ate another piece of bread and leaned back in his chair.

They had been talking for hours on end, only about the revolution, always only about the revolution. They had conversed for so long, it was already the next afternoon by the time Enjolras realized what had happened. Enjolras was tired. He wanted a break for a few moments.

"What was it you wanted to not think of then?" he asked.

Eponine froze in her chair. She subconsciously rubbed her aching side. Enjolras was her friend; at least, in her mind. She hoped he felt the same. Why she was so afraid to tell him was beyond her? Maybe she didn't wish to burden him with her troubles. He already had enough on his own plate to worry about her.

She lowered her eyes to her lap. "It doesn't concern you, monsieur. I don't think you really need to know; I don't want you to feel burdened."

He laughed shortly. "I won't be burdened."

Whether or not this should comfort her, Eponine didn't know. She frowned slightly. "I am considering leaving," she stated.

It was his turn to frown. "Leaving? What do you mean?"

"I took what you said to heart. I don't need to keep going back to 'Parnasse nor my parents. I can make a way for myself. In fact, I always have. But now, if I left, it would be more permanent. I would never be able to go back. My father would wring my neck."

"Why wouldn't you leave? It sounds like you've made up your mind.."

"My sister."

"Sister?"

"Azelma. She's very naïve, turns a blind eye to the ways of our parents. I don't want to leave her alone, but I can't stay anymore!"

Enjolras nodded. "Sometimes, you have to do what's best for yourself, Eponine. I see the way you care for Gavroche; I can only assume you do the same for Azelma. But, you need to take care of you now."

"I've thought of that. But.. I don't think I can do it."

"Then you'll be stuck at home, forever being pushed around by Montparnasse and your parents. Would you rather that than freedom?"

Eponine sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "No."

"Then think on it. Alzema could always come with you."

"She wouldn't."

"You never know until you ask."

Eponine looked over at him. "And what of you, monsieur? You think it would be a good idea for me to leave?"

"Oui."

"Where would I go?"

He stopped. "Well.. I'm not sure."

She sighed. "I've racked my brain for any idea of anyplace. But I can't think of anything or anyone who would take me in until I could find my own place. I won't be a charity case." she flung the words at him with venom.

Enjolras sighed. "I have an extra room here. You could stay until you get on your feet. I know of a shop downtown looking for someone to clean the tables after closing time. It doesn't pay much, but it's work."

Eponine stared at him. "You can't be serious."

"I am." he smiled slightly. "I only want for you to be safe, Eponine. Mull it over and tell me your answer in a few days." he stood up and left the room.

And developments! Please review!

Jess