Opening Authoressial Note: LATE CHAPTER IS LATE. The EANs explain my reasons in detail. (Winning smile)

Disclaimer: I don't own LM, Skittles, the Indiana Jones franchise, or the Andes mountains. …Wait, that last one's not copyrighted. BUT I DON'T OWN THEM ANYWAY. I mean, it would be cool if I DID, having my own mountain range and all, but… no.


As it turned out, running away from comfort and medical care when you're still partially injured is a bad idea.

A very bad idea.

You see, when you're a cat – and you're not accustomed to being a cat – not to mention the fact that you're an injured cat – it's a great deal harder to escape from the street rats that want to torture and kill you for no apparent reason.

Though actually, it wasn't too great of a leap of logic to come to the conclusion that they probably wanted to have me for supper.

"Heeeeere, kitty kiiiiitty," singsonged one of them, waving a thoroughly loathsome-looking fish skeleton in my direction. Even if I had been hungry enough to fall for that, the fact that he was holding a rather sizable rock in his other hand was quite enough to deter me from going for the bait.

"Kitty-cat's a scaredy-cat," hissed his partner, who didn't seem to be capable of even acting amiable. "Silly kitty, don't be worried! We won't hurt you."

No, of course you wouldn't. And I didn't actually belong in a human body, either.

"MMMREEEEOOWW!" I made my displeasure known as clearly as I could, my ears pressed flat back against my head and my fangs bared.

"Oh, I'm fed up with this." The supposedly "nice" one hefted the rock and hurled it at me.

I shot forward as he threw it, the rock soaring harmlessly overhead as I dodged between their legs and into the street beyond. I expected them to follow me, but not for very long – after all, I had four legs and they only had two each. That was one benefit to being a feline – though, if I wasn't a cat, I wouldn't have been in this situation in the first place.

I probably would have lost them fairly soon if I hadn't run down a dead-end alley. There were a few abandoned crates piled up at the far end, however, and I fully intended to jump on these and up out of the alley. Unfortunately, my injuries chose that most inopportune moment to act up, causing me to trip and go tumbling forward a short distance until I finally came to a halt. I scrambled to my feet, albeit painfully, but by this time my opponents were upon me.

Before I could do anything, the less-nice one had grabbed me by the throat and pulled me up off the ground. "Hold still, kitty. If you move, you might hurt yourself." He flashed me a none-too-friendly grin as he began to tighten his grip.

"What are you doing to that cat? Stop it this instant!"

I was dropped abruptly and without ceremony to the ground as the two gamins fled the scene. Sitting up, I shook my head in an attempt to clear it of the fog that tends to gather when one is very nearly squeezed into a state of unconsciousness. After this had been accomplished, I stood up, only to fall over again.

For a moment I seethed in irritation at my lightheaded state, but a moment was all I had before my rescuer suddenly fell upon me, scooping me up into his arms and holding me gently against his chest.

"It's alright, chat. I'm going to take you home with me. Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you."

I felt insulted. I was not afraid. Who was this man? My head was still foggy, so I couldn't recognize him, but he sounded vaguely familiar…

"There are a lot of cats where I live, so you should be right at home. I think perhaps I ought to take you to visit the veterinarian first, though. You're pretty roughed up. Hmm? How does that sound?"

It sounded pretty good. Combined with the soothing tones of his voice, the rumbling in his chest, and the warmth of his arms, the fast pace of the last few days was catching up to me, and even as I told myself I needed to stay awake, I did the opposite and fell asleep.

~x^^x~

When I awoke, it was with a much clearer head and a distinct impression of horror that I had permitted myself to be so lax as to be lulled into a state of relaxation, much less one of slumber, by the comfort which I had been offered. Getting up – rather stiffly – I stepped forward and fell off of a chair onto a floor.

A familiar floor.

Regaining my balance and dignity, I sat up and looked at my surroundings. Chairs, a good deal of bookshelves, pleasant mahogany wall paneling, and a - piano?

My eyes widened as realization dawned. No. NO. Please, no, anyone but him, ANYTHING but THIS, don't make me go through this sort of humiliation AGAIN, I can't – I won't –

"Well, hello there! You're awake earlier than I imagined you'd be!" Without warning and before I could react, Valjean picked me up from behind. "I bet you're hungry! I've got some nice leftover fish for you in the other room. Come on."

I yowled in protest, but he seemed alarmingly well-informed regarding the dangers of the claws of agitated cats, and my paws were kept pressed close to my body, rendering me incapable of causing him any physical damage.

We entered the kitchen, and he set me down in front of a plate of fish and a bowl of water that he had placed on the floor. "Go at it, then. You look like you need all the food you can get."

My pride insisted that I resist the temptation and refuse to take anything from the man. This was indignity in the extreme. At least in the form of a child, I had been able to intelligibly vocalize my dislike for being picked up and… cuddled. But Valjean didn't seem to get that angry yowls and struggling from a cat translated in the most basic of terms as "DO NOT WANT."

…On the other hand, I was starving.

Valjean crouched down next to me. "What's wrong? It's okay. See?" He picked up a small piece and offered it to me. I regarded the fish and his hand with distaste, then gave him my best cold and disapproving stare before proceeding to ignore the offered piece and eat quietly and delicately from the plate. He sighed, sounding sad, and put the fish piece back on the plate before standing up to go wash his hands.

Half an hour later I was full, rested, and lying in a patch of sunlight on the kitchen table. Cosette did not seem to be in, and I was just wondering at the uncharacteristicness of Valjean letting her go out by herself when the back door swung open and she came inside, flushed and smiling and stripping off a pair of dirty gardening gloves.

"Good afternoon, Father! I've gotten a good deal of the garden weeded – oh, who's this?" She swept forward to inspect me. Sitting up, I tried to look benign. I didn't particularly care to be petted or coddled, but that was no excuse for not being polite. "Aww, isn't he so sweet. Is he from around here?"

"No, I don't think so. I found him while I was out this morning. Two boys were bullying him in an alley and I rescued him. I had to take him to the vet, he was in such bad shape. I thought we could take care of him until he felt better."

Cosette nodded, running a hand across my head and tickling the backs of my ears. After a moment of silence, she murmured,

"Look at how black and glossy his fur is, and how he sits up so straight. He reminds me a little of M. Javert."

With my heightened senses, I was able to hear the tiny, agonized sound that escaped Valjean's throat at the mention of my name, a sound that was stifled before it reached the humanly perceptible range and replaced with a slightly strained "Indeed." One of my ears twitched, violently and of its own accord. Of course Valjean would be upset. He probably thought I had run away, if not worse.

Before I could dwell upon this any further, however, I was enlightened as to yet another danger of being a fairly dignified gentleman in a feline body. Cosette swept me up off the table and hugged me to her chest, planting a none-too-reticent kiss on top of my head as her finger rubbed my chin.

"Oh, Father, he's so sweet. Do you think I could get him to sleep with me tonight?"

"MMRRREEEOOOWW! NYYRRAHHH!"

Valjean stared at me. "Cosette, are you sure you're not holding the poor thing too tightly? He is injured, you know."

HA. Not as injured as I would be if Valjean found out that this "cute little cat" was a grown man, not to mention one he entrusted with his daughter's safety and dignity.

She deposited me on the table, and as I put a good deal of distance between her and myself, Valjean murmured thoughtfully,

"Well, I think if you took him into your room and closed the door, eventually he might get cold and climb into your bed with you. It's worth a try."

Cosette smiled beatifically at him. Meanwhile, I was coming to the rather horrified realization that the most likely reason cats are so good at disappearing and not being found until they want to be, is because of people like the two love-sponges in my immediate presence.

Bedtime, I decided most firmly, would find me safely (hopefully) ensconced in the pantry. They'd never think to look for me there.


A3: I wouldn't be so sure, kitty-boy. Ahem. Anyway. THE LAST TIME I UPDATED WAS ALMOST A MONTH AGO AND I AM REALLY SORRY. This story was abducted by ninjas and hidden in a labyrinth in the Andes. I've been off retrieving it with the assistance of Indiana Jones. On the way, I had plenty of time to think about the plot of the story, and I think I know where it's going now! But, if it turns out I really don't… OH WELL. I'll just keep writing and SOMETHING will happen.

Erik: You realize you've left us alone with THESE MANIACS all this time! (Gestures wildly in the direction of the Amis)

A3: Yes, what of it?

Erik: I no longer care for poetry.

A3: (Gasp) JEHAN! You didn't!

Julian: Don't worry, I've been able to keep them apart for the most part. The big problem has chiefly been that he keeps somehow getting himself roped into poker games with Courfeyrac.

Erik: Who CHEATS.

Courfeyrac: (GRIN) Don't be ridiculous. Now remember, you owe me an organ. I'm not sure where I'll put it, but I'll find a place somewhere.

Enjolras: I HATE YOU ALL.

A3: How very un-trusted-leader-like of you, Enjy. Why do you suddenly loathe your beloved amis?

Enjolras: (Rage) They have done NOTHING to free me! NOTHING! In all TWENTY-SEVEN days of your absence, all they have done is tell me to be patient, REBUKE me for being (furious airquotes) "UNSPORTSMANLIKE," and PLAYED POKER!

Courfeyrac: Oh, just chill, will ya? Now that she's here, we can kick her butt.

A3: OH YEAH? Well… I know something YOU don't know!

Combeferre: (Hopefully) The location of the keys?

A3: NO! The unofficial, incredibly varying time limit for the EANs! Quick, someone ask for reviews! We've only got ten seconds!

Enjolras: HEY! Since when -?

Combeferre: I'm a diplomatic person, I'll do this. (Turns to reviewers) Please do drop a note telling us your opinion of the chapter. Although it was admittedly short, the Authoress is starting school tomorrow and was up late writing said chapter, so there was something of a time constraint involved. I ask you to please be kind in any references you may make to the lateness of the chapter, keeping in mind that labyrinths in the Andes mountains are especially heinous at this time of year. Thank you very much for your time and consideration.

All: (Silence)

Enjolras: THAT WAS TOTALLY LONGER THAN TEN MMMPPHGH

A3: 'Ferre, you are marvelous. Enjolras, shut up and eat your Skittles.