A/N: Okay, guys, as a prelude to the ANGSTIEST chapter in the story, now presenting the MUSHIEST chapter in the story SO FAR. That's right, folks. It can only go downhill from here.

Disclaimer: Gavroche, Eponine and Javert are the sole property of Monsieur Hugo.

A week passed. Gavroche learned the alphabet and soon Javert was teaching him whole words. Eponine continued to keep the house flawlessly, turning down Javert's tentative offer to hire staff. She had worked as a maid in a rich woman's house when she was a young girl, she told him, and it gave her something to do. They had built a routine—each day they rose and ate together around the stove in the kitchen, then Eponine washed the dishes, tidied the bedrooms and prepared the next meal while Javert continued Gavroche's lessons. After that they took lunch and Eponine read in front of the fire. Most evenings Javert took a walk through the half-lit streets, always carrying the stick he had used to fend off Eponine's attackers. When he returned they ate dinner and went to bed.

Mable came by from time to time, and once even invited them to dinner, but Javert turned her down. He claimed that Eponine had a head-cold, and he couldn't leave her at home alone. This was the catalyst for much dramatic sobbing on Mable's part, and a bout of acting worthy of the greatest stage on Eponine's: "Oh, no, Papa—you go, please, I—" cough "I don't want to keep you from an evening out," stagger "Don't stay for my sake, Papa—" She then promptly pretended to faint, at which point Javert caught her and acted very worried while Gavroche escorted a weeping Mable to the door, saying "Don't you worry about our 'Ponine, she's got a good constitution. She'll be back on her feet in no time."

Several days later Javert woke to a strange smell. It was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. When he got downstairs, however, it was to find both of the children sitting around a small pine branch—the source of the pungent smell—, which they had stuck into a jar to keep upright. Under it was a thick package wrapped in brown paper.

"What is going on?" Javert inquired, raising one eyebrow.

When they saw him, both of the children grinned. "Merry Christmas!" Eponine cried, and Gavroche picked up the package and brought it to him.

"We picked it out ourselves," he said, and then showed Javert a small bag full of jacks. "Eponine got me these! She's going to teach me how to play!"

Eponine laughed. "And Gavroche gave me this necklace!" She gestured to a small blue bauble that now hung on a thin chain around her neck.

Javert was taken aback. "I... did not know Christmas was approaching. I have never really celebrated it except by going to the sermons."

"That's what we thought," said Gavroche with an exaggerated sigh. "Anyway, I got the branch this morning and we bought this present for you at the local market. The one down the street, you know?"

Javert nodded. He turned the package over and over in his hands before untying the string. He held the gift at arm's length, as though it would bite him, but as he pulled the paper away he saw that the gift was a book.

Eponine spoke up. "Don't feel too bad about not getting us presents—this is more for us than it is for you. I'm not very good at reading, and Gavroche is just learning. We want you to read this to us."

The policeman's eyes traced the title. Grimm's Fairy Tales. He could feel the smile trying to fight its way onto his face. Forcing it back, he looked down at the children and nodded. "Thank you for your gift Eponine, Gavroche. We can begin reading it after breakfast, if you like."

With a cry of delight, the children were on their feet and had thrown themselves at him. Gavroche's small arms held tight around his legs while Eponine's had snatched him about the waist. For a long moment Javert stood with his arms akimbo, staring down at the two children who clung to him. Stiff and straight, he endured their hug in silence. Seeming to know that this was the most they could hope for, Eponine and Gavroche disentangled themselves from the policeman and made their way to the kitchen, chattering all the while.

Once their breakfast was eaten they gathered in the sitting room and Javert flipped through the book for a moment in search of an interesting-looking tale.

"The Six Swans.

"Once a King was hunting in a great wood, and he pursued a wild animal so eagerly that none of his people could follow him. When evening came he stood still, and looking round him he found that he had lost his way; and seeking a path, he found none. Then all at once he saw an old woman with a nodding head coming up to him, and it was a witch."

The children were enthralled, leaning forward and listening raptly. Although Javert's voice was relatively monotonous, it had a commanding air that brought a gravity to the story, which held their attention unquestioningly. As they neared the end of the tale, Gavroche had moved to the sofa to sit beside Javert and Eponine sat on the floor close by.

"And the King and Queen lived many years with their six brothers in peace and joy."

Javert finished the story and they sat for a while in silence.

"I feel sorry for the youngest brother," Gavroche said finally.

"Why?" Eponine asked.

"Because the princess never finished his shirt. He had to keep the swan's left wing."

Javert shrugged. "Maybe he liked having the wing of a swan."

Gavroche's brows drew together in confusion. "Why would he like having the wing of a swan instead of an arm?"

"Well," said Eponine, "He could use it to fan himself in the summer. And it had feathers, so that arm would never get cold in the winter."

The young urchin thought on this for a moment, before nodding decisively. "Still," he said, "I think the father should've killed that witch for what she did to his kids. Should've burned her at the stake."

"He didn't know she was the one who turned them into swans," Eponine explained.

"Still," Gavroche glowered at an imaginary witch. "She was an evil old bint."

"Language," Javert snapped. "But you are right. She ought to have been punished to the fullest extent of the law."

The Thenardiers rolled their eyes.

"Now," the policeman said, standing up and closing the book with a decisive snap, "Gavroche, you have studying to do. Shall we read another tale after dinner this evening?"

Eagerly agreeing, Gavroche and Eponine hurried off to their individual tasks--he to his studies, she to tend the house. Javert looked down at the book in his hands and allowed the corners of his lips to quirk upwards in a smile he had been holding back ever since the book had reached his hands. He set it on the table beside the sofa to await that night's tale and went to the window, where he watched the snow fall gently down to rest in the yard. The smile still ghosting across his face, he turned and made his way up the stairs to the study, where he oversaw Gavroche's lesson with a hint more patience than usual.

A/N: ROT YOUR TEETH ON THAT WHY DON'T YA. And you know what comes next—angst. Unfortunately (for you) I'll be on vacation for the next two days and unable to post. So many reviews! Where to begin?

CelticHeiressFiona: Thank you kindly for the stroke! Something's wrong with that sentence. Oh well.

Madame Marcia: I'm blown away! What a review! Almost a rave, and here I am with no handkerchief to fan myself with. If your other reviews are as splendid as that one, I'm a lucky writer indeed!

LesMisLoony: Don't worry; you were perfectly right to choose study over LoL (hey, there's something I never noticed…). I'm not offended, but gratified that you're still with me! I don't think I've ever had a reviewer this loyal!

Anonymous: I don't understand the purpose of the chapter titles either, so don't worry. As to the jobs, you have to understand—that would take effort. I'm not such a big fan of effort. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up, anyway.

Princess Shlay: Ah, an angst connoisseur, eh? Worry not; they're on their way!

Orbitgirl: Thanks for the review! Hope to hear from you again!