I don't own- Please don't sue. (It's not worth it...trust me)

The Docks (#1 in a series of explainations)

Valjean smiled at his refletion in the mirror. He was the perfect picture of wealth and power, a far cry from his former self, a slave of the law. Now he served a kinder master as the mayor and owner of a productive factory. He straightened his vest once more before turning away and walking to the door. After bidding his housekeeper good-night he slid his tailored coat upon his shoulders and walked out the door. It was time to survey his realm yet again.

He stepped out into the cool night air and breathed deeply. Never a day went past when he did not thank God for his life and his freedom. Somehow, air smells fresher and water tastes cleaner when one is free. He placed his hat upon his head and continued on into the night.

Usually, he one walked down the paths most taken, simply looking at the more wealthy parts of town. Tonight, however, he felt the urge to go down to the docks, where the beggers, tramps and thieves dwelled, in order to make his presence known. Valjean was determined not to become a leader that is only known to a select few and ignores those beneath his station. His mind made up, he turned on his heel and continued, strolling purposefully toward the dregs of society.

As soon as he came within smelling distance, old memories, long buried, came flooding back. His thoughts went to his parents, who he had never really known, and his sister, who had treated him as well as she knew how. His thoughts drifted to that fateful day when he had stolen a loaf of bread and, so it seemed at the time, sealed his fate. Had the good bishop not interfeared, Valjean assumed he would have quickly landed himself back in jail.

He walked into a narrow alleyway, lit only by the red lights advertising the only thing for sale at this time of night. Something stirred in Valjean. Nearly twenty years in prison and ten years on the run had left him little time for women, but tonight...

He could give in tonight...

Couldn't he?

________________

Valjean tipped his hat to the "lovely lady" and paid her far more than she had been asking. Sighing in post delight, he stepped out into the night once again, just in time to see Javert arrest a young prostitute that looked vaugely familiar...

THE END