AUTHOR'S NOTE: Technically speaking, this has nothing to do with the Graceland tv show. It's just a general FBI AU where Enjolras is an agent.

This is based on mainly the 2012 film, with a good amount of the book.


At the FBI Bureau in the city that never sleeps, Javert tosses a heavy manila file on Enjolras' desk.

"What's this, sir?" the golden-haired alpha asks as he lifts his coffee mug. Sirens wail outside the skyscraper Federal Building, in the heart of New York City.

"Your new assignment, Agent Enjolras," Javert replies. "Undercover as a customer at the maid café Ooh La La."

Enjolras coughs. "A maid café?"

The FBI director opens the folder laden with a thick stack of documents. "We've been trying to shut down Ooh La La for years," the stern older alpha explains, "but the overt method hasn't worked. They just keep changing locations. It's believed they're trafficking omegas to milk factories. So we're trying a different tactic, undercover. That's where you come in."

"I'm morally opposed to degrading omegas, sir, even as a cover."

"You have to. Be a typical knothead alpha. There's rumors some very powerful politicians go there. We could kill two birds with one stone, and catch them as well."

"Director, with all due respect–"

Javert's steel gray eyes harden. "Are you refusing an assignment?"

The younger alpha sighs. "No, sir."


Enjolras braces himself as he waits outside the maid café.

Ooh La La is well hidden. It's in the basement of the run-down corner store Beta's Bodega, on the wrong side of the Bronx train tracks. Enjolras adjusts the tie of his maroon suit. He's posing as a Wall Street executive, a wealthy young businessman looking to burn cash and relax.

In Beta's Bodega, he sees a row of cartons in the freezer section. Fresh Omega Milk! is printed on the packaging behind the frosted glass. It makes the agent's stomach turn, to even think of the barbaric factories that milk pregnant omegas like mere cows. The dairy owner Bamatabois is on New York's most wanted list for a reason.

Then a woman comes up the stairs and opens a rusted security grill covered in graffiti. She wears a French maid outfit with a tiny black dress, white apron, frilly petticoats, and sky-high black stilettos. There's a bonnet on her red hair, and her fishnet stockings are held up by garters. But there's nothing traditional about the outfit. The skirt is almost obscenely short, and her chest is spilling out of the tight bodice.

"Welcome, Master!" the girl says cheerily. "My name's Musichetta. Are you here for Ooh La La?"

Being called Master sets his teeth on edge. "That's right," he says with a rehearsed grin. "The stock trading floor was a bloodbath today. I need to blow off some steam."

"Then you came to the right place! Come with me, Master!"

Grabbing his hand, she pulls him inside. He follows her down the dingy staircase to the basement, but the café itself is a world apart. He's hit by a wave of omega pheromones so thick it is hard to breathe. Ooh La La is covered in pink-and-white striped wallpaper; chairs decorated in scroll designs are at tables draped with white tablecloths. However, the most striking feature is the staff. There's one older man, a cunning alpha in a butler uniform, laughing with male clients. But every waitress is a female omega, and all they wear the same maid dress. The uniforms look like trashy Halloween costumes, clearly meant to put their bodies on display.

Musichetta takes Enjolras to a table and hands him a pink menu. It's written in actual French Script font, and covered in so much poodle art that it makes his eye twitch. But every item, from tea to cake, has an asterisk below. If this maid café really is a cover for a strip joint, surely this is the code to buy services.

*Made With Love special is $30 on the side.

Musichetta flutters her eyelashes as she pours coffee. "Milk?"

He thinks of the dairy for sale at Beta's Bodega, and wonders if he will ever think of lactose the same way again. "No, thank you. Straight black."

"What can I get you from the menu, Master?"

"I'll have–"

Four alpha men barge in, laughing, and he recognizes them instantly. The leader is the corrupt, balding senator Félix Tholomyès rumored to have embezzled government funds. He is followed by Commissioner Fameuil, and the recently-appointed New York Mayor Listolier, who replaced Luc-Esprit Gillenormand. Last is the influential Blachevelle, who is the Chief Judge of the State of New York. They are the worst of what alphas can be – cruel, arrogant, demanding, violent. The phrase toxic alpha in the dictionary would have Félix's photo beside it. The waitresses and other patrons stare as the old political titans brazenly take a table.

"Hey, Musichetta!" Félix orders. "We want our usual!"

Musichetta's smile tightens. "I'll send someone to your table," she says to Enjolras as she goes to the four alphas. "Senator Tholomyès, good to see you again."

As the agent waits, the quartet of politicians raise a riot with a jug of omega milk. Himself organized, efficient, and controlled, Enjolras can't stand their upheaval. Félix leads Listolier, Fameuil, and Blachevelle in doing shots of the cream. Enjolras would rather drink gasoline and eat glass than support the industry. "Another round of omega milk!" Félix bellows, and raises his illicit drink. "To us, living like kings!"

Then Enjolras chokes on his coffee when he notices Éponine in a little black and white dress.

He hasn't seen her since college. They drifted apart after she dropped out, unable to afford tuition at New York University. She'd always trailed after Marius in the glory days, joining their circle of friends to pine after the oblivious beta. Enjolras had found her smoking hot at the time, but didn't want to be another horny frat dude and college knothead alpha. So he never pursued her, and they lost touch when she left NYU. He and Éponine had come close to the edge of something the night of Theodule Gillenormand's keg party–

But that is in the past.

If she was pretty then, it's nothing compared to now. Éponine looks like a dream made reality. Her omega scent is ginger, strong and sharp yet with a hint of sugar. She wears the same maid dress, but it fits her better than any other, like it was made for her. The raven-haired omega has a black velvet choker on her neck, and fishnets that make her legs look a mile long. True, she's not particularly well-endowed – not Marilyn Monroe, but not flat either. Yet her chest is accented by the dress, and Enjolras sees every alpha in radius clearly wants to explore further.

Enjolras can't breathe when she turns to bend over a table and reach for a plate. He tries not to implode. Only now does he understand the term knothead, an alpha thinking with his knot instead of his brain. He honestly tries not to find the uniform attractive. But now he understands the appeal of maid cafés. Yes, they will always be degrading to the omegas who work there. But Éponine is straight out of a fantasy Enjolras didn't even know he had.

This is an assignment, he reminds himself. You aren't fifteen. Now is not the time to pop a knot over your college crush.

"Like what you see?"

Enjolras turns to the alpha who spoke. The older man wears a butler uniform, but he's missing a tooth, there's too much oil in his greasy gray hair, and his bowtie is askew.

"Uh, yeah." Enjolras clears his throat, and shifts in his chair. His obvious desire for a particular waitress definitely helps his cover. "Yeah, I do."

"Haven't seen you here before. You a lawyer?"

"Wall Street trader."

"How interesting." The butler's eyes gleam with greed. "Like that one? I'll send her over. Oi, 'Ponine!"

Enjolras goes pale. "Oh, well…"

"What, Dad?" she says. While filling the tray, she doesn't see Enjolras yet.

Enjolras tries to keep his expression neutral. The old butler is her father, notorious con artist Thénardier? Ooh La La makes perfect sense. The twisted older alpha created a fantasy to pimp omegas, including his own daughter.

"Another customer for you to service," Thénardier says. "Move it."

She raises her chin defiantly. "And if I don't feel like it?"

"I have Bamatabois' number, you know!" Her father leaves to take more milk to the quartet of powerful alphas. Éponine sighs, putting down the tray of dishes, and smooths her skirts. When she sees the agent, Éponine's dark eyes widen.

"What are you doing here, En–"

"Call me Julien," he interjects quickly.

Understanding flashes in her eyes. She always has been clever, and Enjolras thinks she'd make a good FBI agent. She simpers, and bats her eyelashes. "What can I do for you, Master Julien?"

His jaw clenches at being called Master, like the omega is his slave. "To get to know you better," he answers, hoping she gets the double meaning.

She puts her palms on the table, using her arms to accent her breasts. "What's your order, Master Julien?"

"Uh." He forces his mind to work. People call him a silvertongue, but his brain starts short circuiting when she is near. Then he takes a thirty dollar bill out of his wallet. "A scone, but Made With Love."

She blinks, moving a step back, and he sees a hint of fear in her eyes. He wants to hold her and convince her he'd die rather than hurt her. They were friends, and now she thinks he has changed for the worst, to wield power over her. But taking down this maid café is imperative.

She takes the money. "Then come with me, Master."


"I'm not going to hurt you."

She still won't look him in the eye. "You paid for the special, Made With Love," Éponine replies. They are alone in a backroom with an actual bed, confirming Enjolras' worst fears. She unties the ribbons lacing the front of her dress. "What position do you want me in, Master?" she asks, revealing more of her breasts. He forces himself to look away. "Anything you desire."

"Please don't call me Master," he interrupts. "I know out there, you have to. But fuck, I hate it. I don't own you."

She reaches for his lapel, biting her lip, and he'd give anything to kiss her. But he pulls her hands from his tie and says, "You don't have to service me. I'm not here to... You know."

"I live to serve you."

"Éponine, stop!"

"Master Julien–"

"Call me Enjolras, not Master," he says quietly, glancing at the door. He gets his badge from a hidden pocket. "I'm here undercover for the FBI."

Her eyes widen. "Really?"

"The Bureau's been trying to shut down this place for years. The only way I could talk to you privately is to buy your services. But I swear I won't touch you. This mission has to be done carefully, which is why I'm posing as a client."

"I see."

"We finally tracked down this café, but it wasn't easy."

"Ooh La La is like the circus," she replies. "Moving around keeps the law off your back, when you're a borderline illegal business."

"You admit it's wrong."

She laughs sharply. "Of course it's wrong, but I don't have a choice."

"Your father owns it?"

"He does."

"So the maid thing's just a cover for a strip club?"

She sighs. "Both. It's an actual maid café. There's more people with this fantasy than you'd imagine. But we do service clients privately."

"Is this a milk bar as well?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "No, then the omegas would have to be pregnant to lactate. But my father has joked about turning this place into a milk bar."

"What about Bamatabois? I heard your father mention him."

"They're friends. I refuse to even speak to that knothead."

"Could you find Bamatabois' number? Don't tell anyone the FBI is involved."

They hear footsteps. "Time's up!" Thénardier calls. "We need her at the front!"

As the doorknob turns, Éponine grabs Enjolras' jaw and presses his face into her cleavage. Ginger overwhelms him. Her father opens the door as the agent makes a noise of surprise against her chest. "I said your time is over," the older alpha says as Thénardier leans in.

Enjolras' lips brush her olive skin. Her breasts are softer than he even thought, and he wants to put his mouth on every inch of her. But of course he doesn't. "Give me a few minutes," she says. Thénardier rolls his eyes as he shuts the door.

Éponine releases Enjolras. "Want to keep your cover? Pretend like we just had sex, and you're just another knothead."

"Which I would never do. It's degrading."

"You're undercover at a maid café. Start acting like it."

"I have an plan. Could I make a show of taking pictures of you? But actually take photos of Senator Tholomyès?"

"Not a half bad idea." He goes to the door, but stops when she wonders, "Was I really so unappealing? The night of that wild fraternity party at NYU. You went into rut, I offered to help, but you said no. Why?"

He pauses. "I found you attractive as hell then."

"The feeling was mutual," she admits.

"But respecting you, and your consent, was more important than my needs."


When they return to Enjolras' table, he takes out his Bureau-issued Android. His own Smartphone is at headquarters, while he carries a decoy that can't be traced to him. "Mind if I take photos of you, miss?"

"Not at all." She makes a point of standing in front of the politicians' table. "I'm ready, Master Julien."

He snaps a picture of Mayor Listolier chugging straight from the pitcher of omega milk. Perfect. But half of Éponine is in the frame. "Just like that, 'mega," Enjolras says.

She pouts, and Enjolras again wants to kiss her. But he gets a record of Judge Blachevelle snorting cocaine, a week after the magistrate sentenced the drug dealer Brujon in court. Commissioner Fameuil tries to feel Musichetta's waist, and the woman darts out of reach.

Éponine lifts her skirt, sliding the petticoats over her legs. "Looks gorgeous," Enjolras says in a strained voice. It's not a lie for the mission. He forgets for a moment why he has the camera on. If she would allow it, he wants to run his hands along those sinful thighs, up to her–

"You'd look even better with my knot locked in you, 'mega!" Félix laughs, and slaps Éponine's ass.

She flinches, and her omega scent sours in fear. Enjolras strides over. "She's assigned to me!" he snarls, pulling Éponine behind him protectively and almost blowing his cover. Maybe it is all the pheromones in the room. But he's not just an FBI agent sworn to serve citizens, he is an alpha. He has a primal need to defend her.

Omega is distressed. Protect omega.

Félix raises an eyebrow. "Do you know who I am?"

"Let's go," Éponine says, and pulls Enjolras away.


The entire day, Enjolras stays at the café beneath Beta's Bodega.

Enjolras records every detail with his work phone, and the microphone in the false pen. He watches Éponine, Musichetta, and the other waitresses like a hawk. Félix and his knothead friends eventually leave, though Enjolras manages to get a selfie with the senator. He never usually takes selfies, but the narcissistic photo will be priceless once Félix is arrested. When Enjolras is the final customer, the aging butler with the missing tooth announces, "We're closing, sir."

The younger alpha stands. "Alright." Enjolras turns to Éponine with a busing tray on her hip. "Can I see you again?" he asks with too much worry, afraid that his cover will be blown.

She nods. "Yes, Master."

"I'm afraid I have to leave," the agent says. "Business meeting," Enjolras lies.

"Wall Street isn't going to run itself."

"But I'll come back." His blue eyes gaze into her dark pupils, wanting her to understand his sincerity. He won't abandon her in this nightmare. "I want to see you again."

She smiles. "I want to see you again too."

"You got that Wall Street guy by the nose," Thénardier says to Éponine as the agent leaves.

If only he knows the half of it, Enjolras thinks when he opens the door.


Enjolras goes to the Café Musain to see Marius.

The two friends have drifted apart ever since Marius began dating Cosette. The pretty hospital nurse is sweet, but all of Marius' focus has been with his omega. Enjolras is busy at the Bureau, and he and the red-haired beta kindergarten teacher haven't spoke in a while.

But now they have to.

Enjolras waits at the coffee shop, fingers drumming the table at their old haunt during the era of NYU. He orders a tea instead of coffee, because he's already on edge as it is. Marius walks through the door hand in hand with Cosette, and Enjolras sighs. Seeing her reminds him that her father Félix is turning into a true Harvey Weinstein; no one talks about Cosette's birth father, but they all know. Enjolras had hoped the Musain would remind Marius of Éponine instead. It's fine that Marius is happy; Enjolras doesn't despise love, no matter what others claim. But why have none of their circle of friends noticed Éponine's situation deteriorating?

"Hey! Hope you don't mind that I brought Cosette," Marius says as the beta and his girlfriend go to the table.

"Not a problem," Enjolras says, and it's mostly true. "Thanks for meeting with me. Marius, I need to tell you…"

"How's work?" Marius interrupts, oblivious.

"Not great at the moment," Enjolras admits. "Haven't been resting well because of it." All he dreams about now is Éponine being hurt. And that's if he can even fall asleep in the first place.

"Sorry to hear that," Cosette says honestly, her blue eyes concerned.

Enjolras draws a breath to respond. But Marius says, "Cosette got a promotion at the hospital."

"That's amazing, but–"

"My kindergarten students are doing well."

Marius reaches for Cosette's left hand, and Enjolras sees a giant ring on her finger. Now the scatterbrained Marius will be even more distracted with planning a wedding. "And we have news! We got engaged yester–"

"Marius!" Enjolras barks, and the teacher falls silent. "That's great, but I didn't come here to talk about the weather. There's something vitally important you need to know. It can't wait."

Marius has the decency to look ashamed. "Sorry. Go ahead."

"It's Éponine."

"Éponine? I haven't talked to her in ages."

Enjolras leans forward on the table. "I just saw her, and she's in a really bad situation."

Marius gives a worried look at Cosette. "What'd you mean?"

"It's not my place to tell. Ask her." Enjolras can't reveal his FBI mission in a crowded coffee shop. Not even to trusted friends. "But I genuinely believe she's in danger. And I don't say that lightly."

"Sorry to hear that," Marius says. But he's not running to the door to save his friend.

"She needs our help. We have to do something."

Marius sighs, running a hand through his russet hair. "That's awful, it really is. But I'm busy with my kindergarten class. Cosette and I just got engaged."

"Congratulations," Enjolras replies, trying to mean it. "But Éponine was your best friend at NYU, and now you're not going to do anything? You know she was in love with you then. Everyone could see it."

Marius avoids his fiancé's gaze. "I know, but I never felt the same way."

"But that doesn't change the fact that she needs us."

"Marius, what if we–" Cosette says softly.

"I don't have time!" Marius snaps. "Work is crazy! We are planning a wedding! My grandfather is being a terror about it – he's the bridezilla, not us! And we're trying to figure things out upstate with Cosette's adoptive dad! We're even talking about adopting a kid ourselves at some point! Given that I'm, you know, a beta and can't give my wife children!" Pain fills his brown eyes, and she takes his hand. "So I'm sorry for Éponine, I am!"

Enjolras' tone is cold. "Really."

"But there's nothing I can do!" Marius stands and pushes his chair back, the wooden legs scraping the floor. "I'll meet you at the car," he tells his fiancé. And then Marius strides out of the Café Musain.

Cosette and Enjolras are left at the table.

"I'll talk to Marius."

"Normally I'd be happy you're getting hitched," Enjolras offers, trying to make amends.

"I was also friends with Éponine," she says. "I'm keeping my apartment until the wedding. Tell Éponine that if she ever needs a place to escape to, she can have my guest room. My door is always open to her."

"I'll let her know. Thanks, Cosette."

"I should go find my fiancé. It was good to see you."

"You too." Enjolras watches Cosette leave.

ENJOLRAS iPhone 5:17PM: Cosette says that she has a spare room if you need it.

ÉPONINE iPhone 5:18PM: Cosette always was sweet. It made it hard to hate her even when she won Marius. I'll think about it.


Enjolras wakes abruptly when his phone rings in the middle of the night.

"Hello?" he mumbles groggily, barely awake. The clock reads two in the morning.

"I need your help!" Éponine wails.

He sits up in bed, alert. "What's wrong?"

"I ran out of suppressants, and I'm in heat! I don't want to go to work in a mating cycle and be– be–"

"Where are you?" he says, going to his closet and blindly reaching for clothes in the dark. He struggles into his faithful red bomber jacket.

"Cosette's place! She's out of the city visiting her dad upstate! Please hurry!"

"I'll be right there."

Three minutes later, his red car peels out into Manhattan traffic. As stars shine down and a dog barks in the distance, Enjolras knocks on Cosette's door in Manhattan.

Éponine throws open the door. "What the hell took you so long!"

All his blood runs south when he sees her. Her pheromones hit him like a semi, and he has to reach for the wall. Her ginger scent is like a wave. Her tan face is flushed, sweat beading her forehead. Her long hair is messy and wild, and she wears only a tank top and athletic shorts hugging her thin frame. Her pupils are dilated, and her lips are red and full. Even Enjolras' iron resolve weakens.

"I came as soon as I could. I wasn't going to ignore your call."

"Thank you. Come in."

"I don't think that's a good idea-"

"Please, Enjolras."

Even though he knows he shouldn't, he walks in.

She closes the door behind him, and they stand there in the light of the flickering lamp. "You sure Cosette will be away for some time?"

Nodding, Éponine explains, "Yeah, all weekend. I ran out of suppressants. I've been so busy with work that I forgot to refill the prescription. The pharmacy said they're backed up and won't get more for two weeks. Let me tell you, heats are a bitch. This is my first one in years. But now you're here." she says with desire in her eyes.

His face goes deep red. "Look…"

"Your pheromones smell like a bonfire," she goes on.

"'Ponine."

She goes to kiss him, but he steps away. "Stop. I'm not going to… to knot you or sleep with you. I won't be another john and take advantage of you. But I have to go."

Uncharacteristic tears well in her eyes. "Am I that ugly?"

"No, no! You're not ugly! You're honestly the most attractive omega I've ever met! But I refuse to take advantage of you. I'm a FBI agent. If I have sex with an informant at the place I'm taking down, how will that look?"

"Then at least stay," she begs. "There's this pervert alpha a few doors down, who won't quit asking to knot my mouth. He'll keep away if you're here."

"Okay, but I'm going to be in another room."

"Fair enough. But I have to nest," she announces. "I need something from you, alpha."

It's a bold request. To ask for something scented by an alpha for one's nest is highly intimate. It implies the omega requires that alpha's scent to feel safe. Only from that alpha. Wordlessly, he takes off his red jacket. Now wearing just a black button-up shirt, he gives it to her. "Here."

"Thanks. It means a lot."

She inhales his alpha scent from the coat, and rubs it over the mating gland on her neck. It calms her down, though she still presses her fingers to her gland. She goes down the hall, but looks over her shoulder. "Sure you don't want to join me?"

"No." He pauses. "Out of respect to you." She smiles, and closes the bedroom door.

Though it's torture to deny his biology, Enjolras stays the rest of the night away from her. He sits on the floor in the hall, with only a door separating him and the omega reeking of slick and ginger pheromones.


Someone has to get Éponine out of this. And if not their friends, then Enjolras will do it himself.

Breaking the law by refusing Éponine paid heat leave, Thénardier won't give her time away from work. Enjolras faithfully walks her to Ooh La La to keep an eye on her. She has to serve other customers, and his stomach turns as alphas stare at her tits. Some paw at her skirt, and a horny beta flips up her apron. Even betas have desires, after all. Yet Éponine always returns to Enjolras, bringing him each order of scones or coffee with a genuine smile. They can't talk in the open, but he hopes to speak again.

Félix strides in that evening with Listolier, Fameuil, and Blachevelle. Then the FBI agent sees the four alphas inhale the pheromones in the air.

"There's an omega in heat," Félix says. His obsessive gaze locks on Éponine talking with her father. "Her."

As the four men sit, Thénardier shoves his daughter at the alphas. "How can I serve you, Master?" Éponine asks with a false smile.

The politician grins wolfishly. "I've got an idea, 'mega." Enjolras sees the aging Félix pull Éponine, still in heat, onto his lap.

"Let go of me!" she snaps, smile vanishing as she bolts.

Enjolras clicks the hidden button on his fake watch. "Get off her!"

"FBI!"

Led by Javert, the team bursts in in full gear with guns and shields. The director can be cold, but he is efficient, even Enjolras will admit. Listolier, Fameuil, and Blachevelle are pinned by Javert and other agents before Enjolras can blink.

Outside on the Bronx street as the police lights illuminate the night, Enjolras flashes his badge at Félix. "I'm actually FBI."

The politician curls his lip. "You ratted us out!"

The younger man enjoys putting handcuffs on Félix. "Senator Tholomyès, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Though we both know you can, after embezzling for so long."

Félix glares. "You're a traitor to all alphas!"

"You're the traitor. Alphas are supposed to take care of omegas. Not be a predator like you."

As Javert puts Félix in the police cruiser, Enjolras sees Éponine. She's still in the maid uniform, shivering in the evening air. Enjolras takes his navy blue work jacket and puts it on her shoulders. "Here."

Éponine throws her arms around him. It's the most physical contact they've ever had, beyond his first day undercover. "Thank you," she murmurs into his shirt.

Unable to deny his alpha nature any longer, he holds her close and breathes in her pheromones. Mating cycle or not, he will protect her with his life.


Though highly sensational, the trial takes months.

Enjolras and the waitresses testify on the stand, and then Éponine's father and the senator are put behind bars. The agent doesn't go to see her the whole time, not wanting to ruin either of their witness credibility.

But the day after the case ends, now it is Enjolras who calls Éponine. "What are you wearing?" he asks.

He can hear her smile over the phone. "What do you want me to be wearing?"

"That little black and white dress, maybe."

When he shows up, she opens the door in her maid uniform. Choker collar, fishnets, heels, garter belt and all.

"I want this. But Cosette will–" he begins.

"She's letting me have the apartment. So we can do whatever we want."

"I'll be completely honest," he says. "That maid café was awful and treated you omegas like dirt. You never, ever have to call me Master. But yes, you always looked attractive as hell in that maid dress."

She bites her lip. "Then what're you waiting for?"

He cups her jaw and finally kisses her. Her lips are chapped, but his mouth melds to hers. He had imagined at nineteen what this would be like, but it exceeds his college dreams. She nips at his lip, running her tongue over his, and their teeth clack together. She pulls him inside, and he kicks the door closed behind them.

He presses her against the wall. The layers of skirts separate their pelvises, and she whines. Kissing hungrily, he reaches under the hem at last. Her legs are smooth like silk. But he pulls away. "Are you okay with this?"

"Yes! I appreciate the respect, now get to work!"

"Yes, ma'am," he says with a grin.

"You can rip this dress off me," she pants.

"If you don't mind, I want you to keep wearing it." He presses his mouth to kiss the gland on her neck, and she sighs.

She brings her leg to his hip. "Fine by me. You can kiss my neck, just don't bite my gland."

He pulls back to declare, "I would never do that without your permission! You're not an object to mark my territory on. Mating bites are a medieval tradition that should've died out a long time ago. Never, Éponine, never."

Tears briefly well in her eyes. "I can't remember the last time an alpha respected me."

"I do."

She kisses him again in gratitude. "Now where were we?" she smirks.

"You're truly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

She looks away. "You don't have to lie to me."

"It's not a lie, my omega," he adds without thinking. "But you will never be property. Only if you want to be my omega," he quickly amends.

"I like the sound of that, my alpha," she replies with a smile.

He kisses the swollen, sensitive mating gland on her neck again, and she moans. He imagines being mates with her, and having a pack together. As a rule, he's against biting an omega's mating gland for bond marks, given it is no longer the Stone Ages. But they can make promises to each other without breaking skin and drawing blood. He wants to face the world with this gorgeous, brave, passionate omega at his side. Together, not her walking one step behind him. Having a pack and a family and a life, fighting wrongs by day and sharing a bed by night.


Years later, Enjolras wakes. He knows before he opens his eyes that Éponine is in heat.

He looks at his wife in bed beside him. They couldn't stay apart following the trials, and married after the maid café closed. She had then trained at the FBI Academy, graduating top of her class as valedictorian. He genuinely believes this is what she was born to do. She's a better agent than him; his sense of justice impacts him during missions, and she is far better at lying. Now they have a brownstone walkup in Manhattan, and he wants to give her everything she never had.

Tense, she shifts in bed and claws at her neck gland. "No reason to deny it. I'm in heat."

He reaches for her hand. "Don't, you'll make your gland bleed." Her husband kisses her knuckles before bringing his palm to cup her gland. She sighs in relief at the gentle pressure, and inhales his alpha pheromones. "Try to relax."

She scoffs. "Hard to relax when the omega in me says to jump your bones."

"Want me to…"

"No, we have to be at the Bureau."

He turns on the lamp. "Éponine, you can't go to work in heat! Not this mission, it's too dangerous!"

Her dark eyes meet his. "You think Bamatabois will have a change of heart and close the milk factory? We have to free those omegas!"

"You'll get hurt!"

"What happened to the Enjolras I married? Want to leave me at home in the kitchen 'cause I'm too delicate?"

"No, it's not that!"

"That's how it looks!"

"I can't lose you!" he declares.

Silence falls. "I can't lose you," he repeats, searching her eyes. "I thought I was going to at that maid café. If you were injured or worse, I'd never forgive myself."

She raises her chin. "I'm going to work today. Heat or no heat, I am fully capable of making decisions. Who knows, maybe it'll distract Bamatabois."

He sighs. "Yes, you can make that decision. But what if we… you know, before we left? It might help your symptoms."

"Normally I'd say sure. But we have–"

"Mama? Daddy?"

Their five-year-old daughter Marianne opens the door.

"What is it, darling?" Enjolras asks. Every time he looks at her, he hardly knows how he could possibly love her more. Then he does all over again. She has his blond curls and her mother's dark eyes. Even as a toddler, her boldness and determination is remarkable. Her parents already guess Marianne will be an alpha one day. Enjolras never saw the need for a pack before his two girls came into his life. But now he feels complete and whole with his wife and their daughter.

"I had a dream," Marianne sniffs.

Éponine gets up to sweep their pup into her arms. "Tell Daddy and I all about it."


They take Marianne to the Pontmercys. "Thanks for looking after her today," Enjolras says as the girl clutches his hand.

"Happy to help," Cosette says sweetly.

"Hello again, Marianne," Marius says to his student.

"We love you," Éponine says, kissing the top of their daughter's golden head.

Enjolras hugs their toddler. "Be good for the Pontmercys."

"I know you can't tell us about work," Marius says as Cosette takes the girl inside. "But good luck."


"Give us the signal," Javert says to the two agents at the Bureau, "and we'll head right in to arrest Bamatabois."

Éponine nods, sweat beading her forehead. "We will, director." Enjolras reaches for his spouse's hand.

They are undercover as investors to Bamatabois' omega milk factory. The cruel alpha owner hides his inhumane operation well in a secluded farm, and it took skill for the agents to even infiltrate his operation. Enjolras wears a dark gray suit with a red tie, while Éponine is in a red cocktail dress with a concealed pistol holster on her thigh. Now in her cycle, her gown is tighter than normal.

"But I won't make you go on a mating cycle," Javert says with rare sincerity. "You can take the day off for paid heat leave, Agent Éponine."

"I'm going, sir."

"Are you sure about this?" Enjolras asks his wife.

She nods again. "I'm sure."

"Then let's move out. We'll be right behind you," Javert says.

The undercover pair head for a nondescript car, while Javert and the team follow in FBI-issued trucks. When the married agents go to their vehicle, Éponine massages her neck gland again. "You better take the wheel, 'Jolras."

When they are alone driving upstate, Enjolras glances at Éponine before looking back at the road. "Just saying, you look on fire in that dress. Ravishing."

She rubs her thighs together. "I feel like I'm on fire."

The complex is hidden from the road by trees. Knowing the rest of the FBI team is waiting in seclusion, Enjolras and Éponine park outside the corporation. He puts a hand on the small of her back as they head to the company offices. Just beyond is the factory where omegas are treated like cattle, and he imagines his wife trapped and used like an animal. Enjolras feels ill at the thought.

"Welcome back," the alpha Bamatabois says with a smirk when they walk in. He leans against the marble front counter, confident in his power.

Enjolras shakes the other alpha's hand. "Morning."

"As always, Bamatabois, lovely to see you!" Éponine kisses the man's cheek, giving him a cloud of pheromones from an omega in full heat. His eyes widen, and the entrepreneur's hand brushes her ass. Her pheromones sour, though she tries to hide it.

The alpha within Enjolras takes over. Mate afraid. Defend mate and pack. No alpha touches mate but me. He pulls his wife back to his side, and tries to control himself. You're on a mission, get it together.

"Say the word, and you could milk for me too." Bamatabois is only half joking as he openly stares at Éponine's breasts. "What a pair. You've got fantastic tits, 'mega."

Enjolras stifles his growl.

Éponine laughs, but the other man's words clearly rattle her. Enjolras reaches for her arm to calm his spouse. "A generous offer," she says nervously. "But I'm more interested in investing, not milking myself. Busy with the bank, and all that."

Enjolras sees Éponine press the call button in her false watch. "Oh, and one more thing," she adds.

Bamatabois turns. "Yes?"

She punches him, just before Javert and the team break the door down. "FBI!" Javert bellows. "You're under arrest!"

"That's for harassing me, you sick knothead!" Éponine snarls as Bamatabois clutches his broken nose.

Then Javert brings over handcuffs. Taking the restraints, Enjolras grabs Bamatabois and slams the other man's head against the front counter. Then Éponine handcuffs Bamatabois as the older alpha groans. "We're FBI!" Enjolras declares, blood boiling. "Don't ever touch my wife again!"


Still in their undercover disguises, Enjolras stays close to Éponine the rest of the day. After all factory staff are arrested and omega victims freed, the two agents return to headquarters to make their report to Javert. "I believe that's everything," the director says at the Bureau. "You're free to go and take care of your… condition. Good work today. Justice was achieved."

"Thank you, sir," Enjolras says as Éponine pulls her husband to the hall.

She drags him to her private office, and kisses him. "I want your hands and your hands alone on me," she says throatily. Then her phone rings on her desk.

Groaning in frustration, she looks at the caller ID. "Shit, it's Marius. This could be about Marianne." They reluctantly separate. "Hey," Éponine says into her phone.

"I was wondering what time you were coming to collect Marianne," comes their friend's voice.

"Long story short. We're done with work, but I'm in heat. Enjolras and I are going to, you know, deal with it. Could you watch Marianne a bit longer?"

"No problem. My wife is an omega, I know all about that. Cosette and I are happy to watch your daughter."

"Thanks a million."

"Oh, by the way," Marius adds. "We took Marianne to Central Park. And she won a fight with a boy after he pulled another girl's hair. Marianne is definitely your kid, alright."

After trying not to defile the taxi, Enjolras and Éponine finally make to their brownstone. Slamming the door, she instantly pounces on him. Taken by surprise, he is knocked off balance, and they tumble to the wood floor of the entryway.

"Sorry," she says as they laugh together.

"It's okay," he replies, and pulls her on top of him to kiss her. She fits perfectly, her small body framed by his tall form. But she wastes no time in rolling her hips against his.


"New assignments," Javert says in the board room. Enjolras sits beside Éponine at the long table as the other agents receive files from the director.

"I'm going to head out early," Éponine whispers to Enjolras. "I'll pick up Marianne from school."

The director puts files down before the pair. "Agent Enjolras, you're on cyber hacking to get Claquesous. The drug trafficker Brujon is for Agent Éponine. Next is-"

"Respectfully, Director Javert," she comments, "I'm going to have decline this time. Normally I'm game for anything. But I can't do a drug bust."

Javert is firm as always. He didn't become director for being soft-hearted. "And why is that?"

She reaches for her husband's hand under the table. "Because I'm pregnant again."

Enjolras gives his wife an amused look that says This is from you not wanting to use protection the night we took down Bamatabois. But he puts a hand on her knee, more content than he's been in a long time.

"I see," Javert says. He doesn't smile, but he is less rigid. "Congratulations. I'll just reassign your missions. You can stay at the Bureau for the cyber hacker, Agent Éponine. And your husband can take the drug case."


A few months later, the battered Enjolras returns to their walkup.

He limps inside the brownstone, locking the door behind him. Then he hears light footsteps, and a blonde blur rounds the corner. "Daddy!" Marianne tackles him, and he winces when the five-year-old unknowingly jabs his bruises.

"Hey, Marianne. How was school?"

"Great!"

Éponine joins them more slowly than their daughter. His wife is five months along, body heavy and full with their second pup, and she is home on maternity leave. "What happened to you?" she asks, instantly noticing his black eye and bleeding lip.

"We did the bust and arrested the-" He glances at their wide-eyed daughter. "The seller today. Brujon didn't go down without a fight."

Éponine puts a hand on his arm. "You alright?"

"I've had worse. This isn't exactly a peaceful line of work."

Marianne tugs on his hand. "Daddy, come watch the show with me! A's & B's & O's is on!"

"Your father's very tired," Éponine says. "You go in and watch, okay?"

Marianne sighs, but returns to the living room. The television blares back to life, and her parents hear the youth program A's & B's & O's. As a pro-omega series, it's one of the only family shows they allow.

"I'm sorry the dealer hurt you," his wife says, low and sincere.

Alone in the hall, Enjolras palms Éponine's bump. "And how are the two of you?"

"Aside from our pup kicking me in the bladder all day, we're fine. The doctor's appointment went well. No problems. If it's another girl, what do you think for names?"

"What about Joan?" he wonders. "For Joan of Arc."

She smiles. "Joan. I like it."

"I'll be able to make the gender reveal ultrasound," he says. "And the rest of them."

She raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I convinced Javert to give me paternity leave. You shouldn't be looking after Marianne and growing another life at the same time. I'll be home now."

"Excellent news." She smiles against his mouth as they kiss. Then she takes his hand and puts it low on her hip. "Now we can celebrate."

He looks at their daughter. "But Marianne–"

"Will be glued to the TV as long as we let her watch." Éponine grins. "And today, I'm fine if that takes a while."

He kisses his wife. "Sounds good to me."

He quietly closes their bedroom door behind them, as their daughter laughs at the screen down the hall. Éponine instantly kisses Enjolras, and she has to angle sideways with her noticeable bump. He runs his hands through her hair, and then like always kisses her mating gland. She bites her lip and whines quietly when his mouth meets her neck.

"You're eager today, 'Ponine."

"My libido is through the roof because you put this pup in me."

He smiles. "I seem to remember it was you who jumped me, the night we conceived again."

"Shut up."

He laughs lightly as they kiss again. "Lay down, my omega," he said in a low tone. "You should rest anyway."

When he helps her onto the bed, she goes on her back and looks at him over the rounded globe of her stomach. It's like she has the whole world inside her, and it is true in his eyes. This is how life should be. Not exploited in the maid café, but fighting crime side by side, and content with their family pack.

She holds out a hand. "Come on then, my alpha."


AUTHOR'S NOTE: I firmly believe Enjolras would be against mating bites and bond marks. Taking a chunk of flesh and drawing that much blood from your partner is not romantic to me in any way, shape, or form.

A prequel is coming soon.