Grantaire looked up from his newspaper and cocked an eyebrow. "Why do you want to know?"

Valjean continued washing the dishes while he listened to the young people and smiled to himself at the lively tone. Breakfast was one of his favorite parts of the day; Cosette wasn't off at school yet and Grantaire's caffeine levels hadn't yet risen to the point where he was bouncing off the walls, so they talked and relaxed. It was like listening to a couple of siblings and made him feel a strange sort of contentment; Grantaire made Cosette louder, livelier and more confident. Cosette made Grantaire happy. They were good for one another.

The girl in question was packing away her notebooks as she talked. "I'm just curious. What, I'm not allowed to ask?"

"Hmm…" Grantaire leaned back in his chair and tapped his chin. "Okay… I'd say that just going off of appearance… Captain America?"

"Really?" Cosette sounded skeptical. "I mean, yeah, Chris Evans is adorable. But he seems too uptight for you."

"Look, you asked which Avenger was hottest and I was 'not allowed to say Widow because that's too obvious' and I gave ya an answer." He stretched his arms behind his head and smirked. "Just because I have hidden depths-"

"Is that what you call it?"

"Silence, woman. Anyway, from an artistic standpoint he's hella awesome because the whole 'Dorito ratio' thing is very, very pleasing. I am an artist, I notice this crap." He gave her a look. "Who do you say?"

"Thor."

"Oh, wow, didn't see that coming."

Valjean poured himself a cup of coffee. "You're going to be late."

Grabbing a last slice of toast and slinging on her backpack, Cosette pecked them both on the cheek and rushed out the door. "I'm picking up Marius today. We're going out for coffee after class to study so it'll be a while until I'm home. Bye!"

Both men waved and Valjean turned to Grantaire. "…Which one's Thor?"

"The giant, blond haired guy. Ironically Marius' complete opposite."

Chuckling, the older man settled down. "Given any thought about Pastor's suggestion?"

"Aren't I the last person you want in front of a crowd?" Grantaire took a large gulp of coffee and winced at the burn. "There's gotta be other people who play guitar that can step in. I don't even have an instrument."

"Well, give it some thought." Valjean steepled his fingers and looked at the other man hard. "I thought you'd have time since you don't go to those meetings anymore."

"Before you say anything," Grantaire pushed away from the table. "I still see them almost every other day. Just because I don't do the meetings any more doesn't mean I'm hiding or avoiding them."

"Aren't you?"

Grantaire took a deep breath. "No. I used to go because I thought I had to if I wanted to be a part of their circle and I was wrong. We hang out, watch movies, go out for lunch, and just hang out and honestly, everything's great. But if I go back, we'll fight and things'll get messy." He shook his head. "I cannot risk falling back into old patterns and this feels like a trigger…" He grinned. "Besides, now I bet they get a lot more done."

"No doubt." Valjean smiled. "I just think it's a good idea for you to broaden your circles, get to know more people your age."

"Mmm." Tapping out a rhythm on the table, the young man shrugged. "I suppose, although my new job ought to help with that."

"When do you start?"

"Soon." Grantaire stood and stretched again. "Which means I ought to get some painting done while I have time."

Valjean sighed and stood up stiffly. "I suppose I ought to get to work as well."

Marius and Eponine were hanging out in the lobby entryway, the boy fiddling with his backpack as they laughed. The girl caught her breath enough to continue, "So apparently, Courfeyrac went on for five minutes before he realized that Enjolras was standing behind him. Gav' said that he was even making fun of his clipboard and doing these stupid little hand motions and the voice and everything." She puffed out her chest and put on a deeper voice. "Revolution! Reform! Death to something or other and blah-blah-blah!" She giggled, dropping the act. " Fearless leader ripped him a new one."

The boy chuckled. "That's fantastic."

"Yeah…" Eponine looked at the ground, scuffing her boot on the cement. "Gav' goes over to his place a lot. To get away from the yelling."

Marius winced. "That bad?"

"Sometimes I think mom's gonna snap and kill him. Dad's been drinking a lot too so… Things are hard, y'know? But it is what it is."

Desperate to get the smile back on his friend's face, Marius asked, "So, how was hanging with R?"

"It was fun." She shrugged but looked a little happier. "He's going to come with me to get some new clothes this weekend."

"Awesome." Marius grinned. "A guy willing to take you to the mall, he's a keeper."

She laughed again at that. "Totally."

There was a honk from the street and they turned to see Cosette parked in her cherry red convertible. She waved at her boyfriend as he hugged his neighbor quickly. "Class starts soon; gotta run. See you later?"

"Sure." She smiled tightly. "Good luck. You know, in class."

"Thanks 'Ponine!"

She sighed and turned back to head into the apartment. Maybe she could scrounge up enough money to take Gavroche to dinner; then they both could escape their parents' wrath. As a crash reverberated around the apartment Eponine decided she'd beg for scraps at the Musain before sitting down for dinner with her family.

M. Thénardier stumbled into her as he ducked the plate being flung at his head and blinked down at her. "You wouldn't happen to have a bit of drink on you?"

Eponine bit back a scowl and shrugged him off. "No dad, I don't have any of your booze. What'd you do to make mom so pissed off?"

"I may have lost a substantial sum at a party. Never fear though." The oily man patted her on the shoulder reassuringly. "I've got a large job planned. We'll be fine."

"Right." The mocking laugh came from the young man in the doorway; Montparnasse cocked his head to the side as he rolled his eyes. "We'll all be fine, so long as this haul is everything you claim it's gonna be." Pushing off from the doorframe, he glared. "And your track-record isn't looking so good."

Thénardier glared back at the younger man and puffed out his scrawny chest; looking more constipated than intimidating. "I happen to have a deal going with an old buddy. He's working for a security company these days and can get us access to a major score, so relax."

"Not in front of the kid!" A voice called from where the rest of her dad's friends were milling about. Eponine rolled her eyes and turned to leave, ignoring the look that Montparnasse sent her; he was the closest thing to a human peacock that Eponine had ever met, all flashy clothes that admittedly fit him well but his attitude bothered her to the point where she couldn't see him as anything but scum. However, as she brushed past him and he gave her a little nod, she had to admit that out of all of her dad's friends, he was the least annoying.

She knew that her dad was a thief and a con man; he wasn't subtle. But what could she do? He put a roof over her head and he was her dad; she could still remember when she was little and her parents had doted on her, when her dad had a decent job and her mom wasn't perpetually drunk. It made it hard to acknowledge that she had a pretty good idea where Marius and Feuilly's things had gone; the very thought made her feel ill.

The young woman flopped onto her bed and pulled out her phone, waiting patiently as the ringing went on...

.:This is the artist formally known as Grantaire, now known as the idiot who's in over his head; because what the hell is up with watercolor paints in the first place? Argh, ah no, crap!:. There was the sound of crashing and swearing then a moment of silence. .:..So…'sup?:.

She smiled. "I'm bored and dad has people over."

.:Sending you an address, come on over. I'm making a mess of this and could use a hand.:.

Half an hour later Eponine hopped off of the bus and stared up at the huge house in front of her. "It's okay, you can do this. It's not like the princess is even here. It's fine."

Thankfully Grantaire was set up on the lawns and she found him quickly. He grinned at her from behind a layer of paints and what looked like charcoal, and spread his arms for a hug, which she ducked with a laugh while eyeing the chaos around her. "You've been busy."

Five paintings were drying in the sun, all in different mediums and showing portraits, landscapes and abstracts that were a little too edgy for her taste.

The boy shrugged. "I got the itch this morning. So, grab a brush and help me with this last one. It's a pain in the ass. Now, what is it that's bothering you?"

After some shuffling and positioning, not to mention Eponine pulling on R's paint-splattered shirt to keep her own clothes clean, she admitted that her house was feeling a little on the depressing side.

"Dad's friends are all pervs and jerks." She gritted her teeth as she moved a brush over the black lines on the canvas, the man having reassured her that it could be as messy as she wanted. "It pisses me off."

Grantaire made a sympathetic noise as he painted. "We need to get you a job and get you out of that atmosphere."

"I can't just leave Gav'." She shook her head. "I'll deal with it."

"Mmm…" The man sounded genuinely frustrated and Eponine loved him a little for it. She was surprised at how quickly Grantaire worked; the sixth piece was done quickly and joined it's predecessors on the lawn as she flopped down and settled back to just enjoy watching him work on yet another. It was a pretty nice view, she thought to herself; Grantaire didn't take his shirt off often and she was always a little surprised by the muscular body hidden under his baggy clothes. She grinned; yep, overall a great view. They were soon joined by Valjean, who welcomed her warmly and sat down to watch with her as the younger man continued his messy work. She sipped the lemonade he'd brought and eyed him nervously but the man was obviously aware of her discomfort and effortlessly went about putting her at ease.

"Buying the supplies for him was a chore." The man murmured, a small smile on his face as he nodded at where Grantaire was haphazardly drawing squares on the canvas. "He doesn't much like when people buy him things."

"I've noticed." Eponine admitted. "Still, it's nice that he can do this. He's really good."

Valjean watched her quietly for a moment. "You're more than welcome to come over whenever you want. We've got lots of room and it's nice when Cosette and R fill this place with people."

Eponine flushed but smiled and looked down at the grass with a happy feeling in her stomach. The man continued. "I'm very glad that Cosette's made so many friends; we moved around so much when she was a child that she's never had much time to socialize with people her age." He sighed. "She deserves to be out there having fun."

"Well, these idiots are a good bunch." Eponine admitted. "I mean, some of them are completely nuts and others really need to get the stick out of their- …chill out a little. But, they're fun and really look out for each other." She blinked at where Grantaire was muttering darkly at the canvas. "…Is he okay?"

Valjean chuckled and moved to stand. "I'm sure he's fine. Will you be staying for lunch?"

"I really don't want to impose…"

"Stay!" Grantaire grinned as he tried to wipe green paint from his forehead and instead smeared more on in the process. "We watch episodes of Project Runway and talk smack about the designs. …Don't tell any of the guys I said that."

She smiled at that as Valjean made an overly dramatic sigh. "Not for long however, soon you'll be off working and I'll be home alone again."

"Jean, get a damn job."

"I have a job."

Grantaire snorted. "You write novels in the privacy of your own office and cut yourself off from reality. You need a job where you interact with other human beings."

"Mean, isn't he?" Valjean laughed. "Never change, R."

"Very, very little chance of that. If I did, who'd piss off our fearless leader?"

Enjolras sneezed loudly. Combeferre looked up from his books and blinked. "You alright?

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Someone must be talking about you." Courfeyrac piped up from where he was sprawled on the floor, texting his girlfriend.

Enjolras rolled his eyes. "That's not an actual thing."

"Yes it is." Jehan argued from where he was lying on top of Bahorel; the larger man was next to Courfeyrac on the floor, watching something on his iPod with the smaller boy curled up on top of him, his head on his shoulder, watching with him.

When Cosette and Marius showed up the girl's phone so fast that it didn't seem possible and she snapped several pictures of the cuddling men with coos of adoration. Jehan grinned into the broad shoulder. "If you want really embarrassing stuff, I have baby pictures."

"Shut up, man!" Bahorel shoved him off with a grin. "Don't you dare! Or I'll tell them all about when you were six and yo-"

"Omigosh, you promised never to speak of it again!"

Cosette helped Jehan up as Marius went to sit with the quieter boys, cocking her head to the side. "How long have you two known each other?"

Bahorel blinked. "Uh, his whole life; we're cousins. Didn't we tell you?"

"No!" She looked from one man to the other with wide eyes. "That's so cool!"

Both men stared at her, taken aback by her enthusiasm. "It is?"

"Of course it is! I wish I had cousins. Or siblings, you're so lucky!"

Marius hid a smile behind his textbook; his girlfriend's attitude towards family members was something he'd grown used to. Having been raised by her adoptive father with no other relatives and not really remembering her mother, Cosette was more than a little fascinated with large families and the idea of growing up with siblings. To the young man, who was absolutely smitten already, this was just another thing about her that made her perfect.

"That's how they ended up crashing together." Courfeyrac piped up. "After 'Rel finished with his spell in the army, he came up here to live with Jehan."

"I was scared of living on my own." The younger boy admitted. "Then when 'Jol and 'Ferre kicked Courfeyrac out…"

Bahorel grinned widely. "He started living in my room like the leech he is."

"Um, ow!"

Ignoring the man's indignant protests, Combeferre put away his homework and pulled out a laptop, beginning to type away. "Very few of us have siblings, Cosette, you're in good company."

"Sure are. What are you writing?"

Pulling the screen away from Marius' prying eyes, the other boy refused to look up. "None of your business."

"Porn?" Courfeyrac looked at Marius conspiratorially. "Porn. He's writing porn. Definitely writing porn."

"You got me." Combeferre said flatly. "I secretly write smut stories and post them online."

"Called it."

Slapping Courfeyrac over the head, Jehan pulled on his backpack. "Come on, we've got class. See you guys later."

It wasn't until they'd left that Enjolras looked up from his homework and blinked. "Wait, what was that about porn?"

Eponine sighed heavily as she snuck back into her home, avoiding the prying eyes of her father and his cronies, whom she could hear in the other room. She'd ended up staying with Grantaire and Valjean almost all day, only leaving that evening when Cosette and Marius had finally returned home and she'd begun to feel uncomfortable; now she tried to ignore how different her home felt than the one she'd just left. It wasn't just Valjean's wealth, there was a very different atmosphere than in her own home; it felt…not just safe but, it was a place that she could see wanting to go home to. It must be nice to have something like that and the gratitude she felt towards the family for taking Grantaire in just increased.

She pushed her bangs, which were getting a little long, from her face and stomped to the kitchen to grab a drink before holing up in her room but stopped when she saw some papers on the table. There was a blueprint of a house and a paper with what seemed to be a set of security codes along with a few Polaroid photos and another scrap of paper with an address on it. Their next mark… She swallowed hard and fought back the guilt that was starting to eat at her. She turned back to the fridge, pulling out a soda and firmly stamping out the guilt; this was not her problem. Except… There was something about the address and those photos. There was no way, though, that fate could actually be—

Pulling out her phone with a shaky hand, she flipped open to her texts and stared at the address her friend had sent her and then at the address sitting on the table like some venomous snake she thought might kill her at any moment. It was the same address.

It was the same.

It-

Oh sh—

"Eponine?"

The teenager whirled, staring wide-eyed at Montparnasse, who lounged in the doorway with a neutral look on his face. She felt a chill up her spine and her hairs stood on end as she looked at the older man; in this moment, with his posturing gone and everything else that made him so flashy, it was the closest to attractive she'd ever seen him and he terrified her. He pushed off from the wall and walked toward her slowly, reminding her of a large cat stalking prey.

"You know your dad doesn't like you looking through his things."

"I wasn't." Somehow, the mention of her father snapped her out of her momentary fear and she proceeded to lie through her teeth. "I came in for food, if he wants his crap to be top secret maybe he shouldn't leave it out in the open. Like I'd want anything to do with dad."

She tossed her cell phone onto the counter contemptuously and hopped up after it, glaring at him. "Besides which, you're not the boss of me."

He shrugged, grabbing his own drink from the fridge. "Fair enough." Dark eyes still eerily cold, he moved to stand right in front of her and cocked his head to the side. "Just think you ought to stay out of all of it, 'Pony. Shouldn't get in over your head."

She bristled at the nickname, feeling fury coil in her chest. When she was a child Montparnasse, who was really only three or four years older than her, had begun to call her that; their parents had been partners of sorts and when his mother had died, he'd begun following his dad to her place. They'd been friends, their only friends really. Then her father had recruited him after his had been sent to prison and Montparnasse had become a different person. The memory of the funny kid who used to read her stories and pretend to be her knight in shining armor hurt; and when she felt hurt, she got pissed.

"I'm fine, Monty." A tiny flicker of pain crossed his face at the nickname before he could hide it and she continued. "I can take care of myself, I don't need a two-bit hood looking after me."

He jerked away and stomped off just as Thénardier stumbled in, glaring at his daughter before looking down at his papers. "And what were you doin'?"

"Nothing." Montparnasse mumbled, pushing past him. "She's not doing anything, come on, let's go."

They left and she slumped on the counter, heart beating wildly. That had been close. She rubbed at her eyes in exhaustion and tried to think of what to do; she didn't want to get her father in trouble, he was her father after all, but she also couldn't let them steal from Cosette and Valjean, no matter how she felt about the other girl. She'd warn them; let other people deal with it. But when she reached for her cell, it was gone. She blinked at the empty spot in confusion before the realization hit her; Montparnasse had stolen her phone. He knew something was up but didn't want her to get involved and had covered for her and stolen her phone so she couldn't do anything.

She wasn't sure if she was frustrated or touched, mostly she was confused. But she didn't have time to think about it, she had a serious choice to make.

And oh, hell, it wasn't that hard to make it.

We're in the home stretch, thank you for riding this out with me.