A/N Forgive the tardiness, dears. i had an essay due and wore myself out struggling to finish it - sadly since this chapter wasn't finished either, it pushed us back. Enjoy! 3

Quiet sat uneasily over the dark asylum - darker earlier than natural as the light on the streets wending their cautious way around it was only just beginning to dim. Even air sat different in its halls, pregnant with too many secrets and whispers, too many cracks spreading out of too many cracked heads. A light or two could be seen lit through the windows, guttering on the street. But we're on the inside, here in the shadows and out there in a corridor he said was the right one is M. Scaramouche himself, Master Of The Shadowy Drama - god damn, he's not making any noise at all. You'd swear he's floating. Not touching the ground. God? One day show me how to do that?

And sorry about the blasphemy thing. I suppose it counts even if it's in my head, doesn't it?

Perceval was near the middle room now, looking into it and starting back a bit. He said something - "M. Enjolras..."

...Enjolras?

Was here?

What?

"Scaramouche... be careful." Combeferre's voice - sounding worried because yes we all know this is a trap even though we didn't know there were two springes here - god, Perceval, be careful. If M. Bastard Spy wasn't cocksure before with just Combeferre, he is now.

But no. Perceval was deep into his Role of Roles (as usual), and merely said lightly, "Capitain Scaramouche is always careful." Even knowing there was a plan and this was all part of that plan did not ease the twisted feeling of fear and nerves blending together at the base of Daniel's was some fiddling going on, no doubt with the lock, and - it struck Daniel in a rush that instead of Scaramouche, Perceval was really - well apart from being a madman who jousted with large windmills which could really ami take your head off one of these days, damn it - more like the Master Cat. Or, as his brother's English-born wife liked to call him 'Puss In Boots'.

Yes, the Master Cat, Perceval. Why not take that for your new name? You look at the world with your head on one side like you are waiting for it to make the slightest movement before you pounce on it - and look at the Master Cat - he did all those ridiculous, crazy things only to aid someone else. Which, my friend, is somewhat your habit, no?

A few moments had passed in tense silence in the hall, when a shadow moved and there - Daniel's stomach tightened to a hard knot. The spy, the bastard spy was standing there.

"Bon soir, M. Scaramouche," he said - and Doesn't He Sound Pleased With Himself, Oh Yes He Does.

Perceval started - so naturally that Daniel could swear that he hadn't been expecting this to happen from the moment they entered this asylum. "M. Duval, what an abso-lute pleasure!"

"Oh no, the pleasure is mine entirely."

"You'll not be minding," and here Scaramouche - you could tell he was truly back as Scaramouche, the voice and the posture and everything... He was making a sweeping bow now, sardonic in its exaggeration. "But... I think my friends are a little tired of this most fine establishment. I thought I would escort them home."

"I don't think so," M. Spy drawled, leaning against the wall.

Continuing the excellently done charade, Scaramouche placed a hand on his sword - and he insisted it had to be a sword as a pistol would encourage a firefight. "I don't believe I was giving you a choice in the matter."

"Neither was I."

In an excellently dramatic response, Scaramouche gave a laugh and gestured sketchily with one hand. "How exactly do you propose to stop me?"

"Oh I won't..." the spy leaned in close. "However... there is a guard at every gate. And they are under strict orders to shoot any unaccompanied person or persons on sight, without question. There is only one way for you to leave safely, and that is in a pair of bracelets and my company, bound for the Prefecture."

There was silence for a moment, and then Perceval - who was Perceval again, stepped back slightly. "Guards, hmmm? That does change things." Even to Daniel, he sounded shaken. "I do detest those dam' bracelets. They are alwaysso cold." He gave a sharp whistle - and mes amis that is our cue, i think? Let's not be late or the audience will begin to wonder what's happening.

They moved forwards into view, all five of them. Him and Alexandre and Maurice together and close behind Bahorel and Courfeyrac - in their own masks and costumes. Rhodomant and Leandre, Perceval had said. Not that anyone else had the faintest idea what that meant.

"And they're not getting any warmer," the spy was saying, not seeming even the slightest bit worried about their presence.

Perceval was smiling his long tight Scaramouche smile. "Colder, I have no doubt. I put it to you that considering the clear advantage in numbers I am blessed with, you will find it in your warm, giving heart to escort us to the gates and wave us off with your blessings."

God please please let him say yes to that, please. Please.

The tension in the air cracked in to little sharp pieces as Duval pulled a pistol from his belt and easily pointed it into the cell aimed at Enjolras' brilliant blonde curls. "I really don't think so."

This... was not in the plan.

"Pull that trigger," Perceval said in a suddenly very cold and dangerous and dear-god-let-him-never-speak-like-that-to-me-because-I-think-he-might-be-going-to-kill-something voice, "and I will kill you painfully and slowly."

Time slowed down. There's Combeferre moving in between Enjolras and that gun. There's Enjolras staring at it as though it's a fly - and not letting him move between them. There's all of us staring because we don't know what's going to happen next and that's the worst feeling in the world.

"My pulling the trigger," the spy said easily, a smile on his face of the nastiest kind Daniel had ever seen in his life. "Is a last resort. I'm confident you and I can work this out. All I want is a simple trade."

Perceval folded his arms, a very unScaramouchean pose. "Oh, really? A trade, hmm? State your terms."

"I have two of the men you want. In return I want you, and your right-hand man. All the others can walk free but the two of you are staying with me."

Oh god, Perceval. He means Maurice. Perceval, he means Maurice! No. No, I don't care about your plan, Perceval. You didn't know this was coming and I won't let that happen. I won't. Look at him. He knows - he's terrified... I won't let this happen, goddamn it!

Perceval barely seemed to turn a hair. "I only trade myself. I would say one condemned man is worth two activist students."

...Perceval? Perceval...

"One man for one man...those you do not redeem, I will be forced to shoot." the spy calmly pointed his gun back towards Enjolras, his aim having slipped a little as he talked to Perceval. Enjolras looked at the gun scornfully, one hand keeping Combeferre back.

And everyone was staring at Perceval - Daniel could see from the way Alexandre was stood just in front of him and Maurice that he didn't much like the sound of what was going on... and Maurice himself was shrinking back a little... and Perceval gave one single look back at them all, even with the mask on, Daniel could see in a flash how terribly this decision was hitting their leader.

Oh I'm sorry, mon ami. I'm sorry. I know - he's got the gun to Enjolras' head. What can we do. He nodded just slightly and moved forwards a fraction, hoping Perceval would understand. Just tell them it's me, tell them it's me and we'll go from there, and Maurice at least will be all right.

Perceval seemed to get the message, for he looked calmly at Duval and nodded. "Fine. Let them free and we'll trade."

"We have a bargain." The spy's face broke into a triumphant grin that made Daniel actually lurch forwards just a little bit, and he turned and unlocked the door of the cell, keeping his pistol trained neatly now on the prisoners both. "Go on you two."

It seems to take forever for the pair of them to cross the hall and join Courfeyrac and Bahorel near the back of the group. Combeferre looked positively murderous, and Enjolras certainly didn't look pleased either.

"Take care of them," Perceval... no, he was somehow Scaramouche again now, said "You kow what to do." And he walked over to Duval as calmly as though he were Going On A Stroll to Do Things Which Aren't Very Important Oh Well.

Daniel felt Maurice hugging his arm, but didn't look at him. I'm not letting you go, cher. I'm not. You can scold me every bit you want later, but I'll die before I let him take you.

"At last," Duval was saying to Scaramouche, grinning from ear to ear.

Scaramouche offered the hilt of his sword. "Again, you mean."

"That too," Duval took the sword with a weird look at it. "But this time I have you for good."

"Nothing lasts forever."

Daniel was disengaging himself from Maurice, but then people were moving and - and oh god. Oh my god.

"Some things last so log they might as well be," Duval said with a smirk, and gestured towards the cell. "Go on." Perceval - Scaramouche - MasterCat went inside and turned and looked at their friend without expression. "And you..." Daniel nearly forgot himself and lurched forwards again as Duval turned and shoved ...

Inside.

How did that even happen?

"Go on amis. Get out of here." Perceval stood there very still and straight, and for a moment Daniel could have wept for them both - oh dear dear dear god, no - please no, don't let them be taken away.

"Yes, if you gentlemen would allow me to escort you outside..." all solicitousness, Duval - having locked their friends in, then ushered the rest of them out. Out down the halls and out of the building. Out - looking like circus freaks in their masks. Out. Out into the dusky evening and leaving... and

Daniel had barely had time to understand it.

No time to react.

God forgive me.