Disclaimer: Me is no owner of Les Miz. Me wish it, but it no true.

P.S: Those brownies are long gone by now, but I did make a lovely strawberry cake and every single reviewer can have a piece! 8D And ice cream! Everyone loves ice cream!!

E.G: -shyly peeps around corner- Heh, hello, friends—

Readers: Boo! –Throw bricks, rotten fruit and empty chairs at empty tables-

E.G: Ahh! –Builds a barricade and hides behind it- I'm sorry! My dear readers, I've been busy (We all know that's crap) and I lacked the funny required to write! I'm just glad I was able to write ANYTHING! Ahh! –Ducks more stuff- I swear to you by the stars and on any grave you might want me to swear on, that I WILL finish 'Retirement', 'Matchmaker', 'What's in a Name?' 'The LES MISÉRABLES UNITS co.' and 'The Further Misadventures'! This I swear by- the Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa—

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Javert frowned, "Kick it? But why?"

Ah, Javert, I know many say that snuff is good for you; but I am ahead of my time. Do yourself a favor and quit.

Javert looked disappointedly at his list but none-the-less (because he is such a trooper) he reached into his pocket and drew out his snuffbox, unwilling to throw it away; he placed it in his desk drawer and locked it then safely placed the key in his pocket.

You won't regret it! But as a warning, I overheard a young medical student and he said something about "withdrawal symptoms", he said they were awful. But the best of luck to you!

Javert rolled his eyes and went on to the next item:

12. Visit your mother.

Javert chuckled a little then gradually began to laugh harder, "Hah! Oh, that's funny! You've made my day, Valjean! Hah! I thought you'd be smart enough to know that my mother is a gypsy! Hah hah haha!! Almost impossible to track down! Ah hah hah hah!"

Now, now, Javert, if you think I'm either blind or stupid just think; whether you like it or not, and I mean no offence, but you look very much like a gypsy and I have it on good authority that you're mother's tribe is camped out on the outskirts of Paris, if you hurry, you should be able to catch them before they leave.

"Ah, damnit!"

2 HOURS AND A CARRIAGE RIDE LATER

Javert hopped out of the cab of the coach in front a typical looking gypsy campground and handed the cabby a few francs as the man took the coins he looked around anxiously, "Are you sure you want to stop here, Monsieur?"

"Absolutely not," Javert snapped, "If it were up to me, neither of us would be here right now." With that he turned on his heel and headed into the heart of the camp and within a few minutes was standing outside what he believed to be his mother's tent and, after taking many-a deep breath, he rapped loudly on the wooden frame.

"Who is it?" A deep feminine voice asked from inside.

Javert gulped and muttered, "Javert,"

"Who?"

Javert bit his lip and said louder, "Your son,"

"Oh!" she screamed from inside excitedly before there was the sound of objects being tossed aside and a portly woman dressed in a brightly colored dress with long, silver hair flung the tent flap open and trapped Javert in a vicious hug, "Oh, I knew you'd return someday!"

Javert's vision began to darken from positional asphyxiation, (E.G is a HUGE CSI geek) "Here I am." He gasped.

Mama Javert tugged him into the tent, "Oh, my boy! You've been gone for so long, say, how long has it been, sonny?"

Javert shifted uncomfortably, "Uh, its been about thirty-five years, ma'am."

"No matter," Mama Javert waved her hand as she pulled up a wooden chair, "Here, sit down, boy and talk to me," She shoved him into the seat and bustled over to a small table and poured two small cups of tea and held one out to him, "Well, tell me, do you have a job?"

"I did, but I've recently had to retire." He replied, taking the offered tea.

Mama Javert nodded approvingly, not bothering to ask his profession, "Where do you live, is it nice?"

"I have a nice flat in Paris." He answered quickly, taking a gulp from his teacup.

"Oooh! Paris! How lovely," His mother tittered and pulled up a chair next to him, "What's it like this time of year?"

"Revolution-y. Very revolution-y."

She smiled, "Ah! That's wonderful!"

"It is--?"

"Have you been taking care of yourself?" She went on, flying off to her next topic.

Javert thought back to all the criminals he had chased and tackled and about all the times they had a knife or pistol or heavy blunt instrument, "For the most part; yes,"

" Perfectly delightful! Now tell me, do you a lady in your life?"

"Not until Monday," Javert replied, taking a sip of tea.

Mama Javert, who may or may not have a few bats loose in the belfry, fixed a disapproving look on her long-lost son, "Not until Monday? She's not one of those ladies, is she?"

"No!" Javert defended, "Maybe? Wait, actually I don't know."

"You don't?! My boy, how can you not know!"

"I've only very briefly met her," Javert said reluctantly.

"That's how I met your father." She replied understandingly, taking a dainty sip of tea.

Javert nodded confusedly, "Uh-huh . . . that's good?"

Mama Javert lowered her cup, "Isn't it, though?" she tossed her cup aside and didn't even flinch when it shattered on the ground, spreading broken glass and hot liquid all over the dirt floor, "But enough about me, how long has it been since we last talked?"

Javert leaned away from her slightly, "Uh, I said about thirty-five years,"

She grinned, "Do you have a nice place to live?"

Javert nodded dumbly, "In Paris..."

"Have I ever told that that was how I met your father?"

Javert gulped, what had he gotten himself into?

She leapt up suddenly, "Ooh, I can't wait to tell everyone that my dear son has come back!" She grabbed his sleeve and yanked him out of the chair with an amazing amount of strength for a woman her age, "Come with me! They won't believe their eyes!"

"Oh, God." Javert said in despair as he was yanked out of the tent.

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E.G: -is quite red in the face- aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaars! –Gasp pant gasp pant- Alright, -gasp- review and –pant- tell me what you think or tell me off –gasp- either one's fine Faints-