And, for adorableness! I sincerely apologize that I haven't been on lately…but…I was on vacation, you see. Sorry about that. And Psycho gets back from her vacation soon as well. Apology for that.

-Marseillaise

"So…Edward…what have I missed in Paris?"

I smiled sadly. "Not much, ma chèrie. Marius survived also, though, and is married to a girl named Cosette."

"Yes, I remember her. Just after the barricades, when I thought you were…dead...I met her briefly. She's nice," 'Chetta whispered into my shoulder.

I held her again, kissing the top of her head. "I've missed you so much, 'Chetta…"

She smiled up at me. "And I've missed you. I only wish Bossuet had survived as well, but…one of my angels is better than none."

I nodded. She led me into the flat, which was large and spacious. Holding my arm, she pulled me down next to her on a beige sofa. It was smooth, and very soft. She curled up, leaning her head onto my chest.

"François..."

We sat like that for about an hour, reveling in each other.

Suddenly, she stood up. "You need to learn English," she said.

I nodded. "Tomorrow."

"Yes. For now, let's eat dinner."

Dinner was roast pork, and a delicious kind of berry sauce.

Musichetta's sister, who was named Jeanne, was a very kind woman. She spent almost the entire dinner talking to me, though she assured Musichetta that she had no intentions of "stealing me away", to which 'Chetta laughed.

"Really, though," Jeanne said, "London is actually a lovely place, you know, full of lovely things, but it's not much better off than Paris in regards to the poor. My sister and I, we've been lucky enough to get jobs as seamstresses, and I have a bit of inheritance and all, but we're not exactly rich. And we're much better off than some people."

I nodded and ate another bite. "It's awful, really…and no one seeming to be able to change anything…"

Jeanne agreed.

It was so frustrating, not being able to change things. It was different in England, much different than France, but still…I sighed. Learn English and become a doctor by the name of Edward Beige. That was what was to become of me now.

XXX

"The entire structure is different than French, you see, but it's not that difficult."

I looked at her skeptically. "The entire structure is different, but it's not difficult? 'Chetta, that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever."

She sighed in mock frustration, but her smile gave her away. She coughed my face and kissed me quickly, and said, "there. Now is it coming to you?"

I smiled. "Not really. But I bet it would help if you kissed me again."

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, I haven't got a problem with that."

We laughed and rolled around like children, but needless to say, I didn't really learn a lot of English. Finally, she sobered up. "Alright. My name is Musichetta."

I repeated her.

"No, your name is not Musichetta."

I shrugged. "My name is Joly."

"Much better. Except your name isn't Joly anymore, either."

"My name is Beige."

"There. Finally. Alright, um…Verbs?"

Nodding, I replied, "it couldn't hurt…"

XXX

A week later, I was downstairs eating breakfast when Musichetta suddenly flung her arms around me. I looked up in surprise. Her face was a bit pale, and she said quietly, "François…I'm pregnant."