A/N - Yep. This is the chapter where the plot gets a-moving.
Elyse3 - Thanks for reviewing. As you were my only reviewer, you win an all-expenses-paid trip to your living room! So you can watch Family Ties or BTTF and drool over Michael J Fox - NO I AM NOT A FAN GIRL! I have lots of guys on TV I get this way over. (See my user profile)
Disclaimer - I still don't own Back to the Future. Not even on video or DVD! I don't own Les Mis, but I do have a copy of the novel, OLC, OBC, TAC DVD, TAC CD, CSR, Highlights CD, and a few random songs off the Internet.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
It had been snowing for a rather long time. Cosette shivered, as her shoulders were still bare.
She had found a snow-free doorway to sit in near the place where the other Fauchelevant had tried to send her to jail. Across the street, the whores were out again for the evening.
Cosette could not help but watch the ragged blonde woman desperately trying to earn a sou. Men scoffed at her as they hurried past to the group of more attractive women. No one in this area seemed to be decent company.
The blonde woman tried to ignore the sneers of the prettier women and their customers. After a few moments she began to pace back and forth, muttering to herself. Every few minutes she stopped and let out a heart-wrenching cough. Cosette fingered the coins in her pocket, wondering what it would look like if she handed a prostitute money.
With a burst of laughter, the door of the tavern behind Cosette opened. A group of well-dressed gentlemen tramped past her and out into the snow, singing loudly, apparently drunk. One didn't see Cosette and tripped over her, fell face-first into the snow, and cursed loudly.
"Whores go to that side of the street, you ninny!" he was shouting.
One of his friends punched his arm and pointed at the blonde woman, still pacing and muttering.
A man in a blue coat and hat was smoking, being highly fashionable. He sauntered over to one end of the woman's path and waited for her to wander near him.
Cosette had mixed emotions. She wanted the woman to earn a bit of money, but she was not sure she wanted to think about how. She half hoped the smoking gentleman would go away and half hoped he would not.
But when the woman's path took her back toward the man, he blew a cloud of smoke towards her and laughed rudely. The woman ignored him and continued to pace.
The smoking man's friends were also laughing and egging him on. Eager to gain more attention, the man continued this insult for a while, still getting no reaction from the woman.
Cosette felt an inexpressible rage bubbling inside her. She wanted to hurt that man. She wanted to-
The man, finally realizing that the woman would continue to ignore him, smiled at his friends and raised a finger to his lips. He knelt down in the snow, gathered a handful of the wet stuff, and got back to his feet by the time the prostitute had reached his end of her path and turned back around. He suppressed a laugh and dropped all the snow down the woman's back.
Cosette gasped and, unable to control the unfamiliar rage, leapt at the man, clawing his face. The woman was shrieking with fury and trying to empty the snow from her clothing. Cosette's hands were suddenly wet, and she realized that she had drawn blood. In a panic, she relented enough for the man to push her off. She landed hard in the snow, staring at her bloody hands.
The man kicked her in the ribs, but the sickly prostitute threatened him, and he melted into the crowd. The blue-lipped woman knelt next to Cosette. "Oh, mademoiselle, thank you! You should not have done that, you know. That will get you in trouble. You should have let me do it, mademoiselle, for I was prepared to."
The woman paused to cough, and Cosette broke in. "What is your name, madame?"
"My name is Fantine, mademoiselle. Fantine la Blonde. Please, don't call me 'madame.'"
"Fantine?" Cosette asked, wondering why the name was so familiar.
Someone grabbed her shoulder roughly and yanked her to her feet. "You forget your place, prostitute," said an icy voice.
A/N - No, she doesn't say 'It's right here, between you and Jack, because A) she doesn't know who's talking and B) there is no one named Jack in this story. I want some popcorn . . .
Cosette spun around. The man who had grabbed her shoulder glared at her. "Come with me."
"Monsieur, Madame Fantine is sick! She needs a doctor!"
"Madame Fantine?" the angry man asked. "Another whore? Then let her die. One less to throw in jail."
He literally dragged Cosette a part of the way to the police station. When they arrived, he thrust her away from him with such force that she landed in a heap on the floor.
A young policeman rushed in from a back room. "Who is it, Inspector?"
"A whore," said the violent man who had dragged her in. He was now seated behind a desk, filling out paperwork. "She attacked a gentleman."
The younger man laughed. "That's, what, three months?"
"Six," said the Inspector firmly.
"Six months?" Cosette repeated desperately. "But monsieur! I need to be back at Monsieur Brown's house! I need to go back to my home before Marius comes! What if he comes and I am not there?"
The young man laughed. "She's a busy one." To Cosette he said, "Should have thought about them before you jumped on the gentleman, hey?"
Suddenly a quiet voice spoke from the doorway. "Release her, Javert."
"Papa!" Cosette cried, for indeed, the mayor had spoken.
Javert rose to his feet. "Monsieur le maire, this is your daughter?"
The mayor frowned. "No, monsieur l'inspecteur. She is apparently sick. She has been in the snow wearing nothing but this for a long while now."
"And you know this . . . how?" Javert asked, his lip curling.
"I was passing through the square when that man threw a snowball down her back. She was not at fault, Inspector Javert. If you wish to throw someone in jail, find Monsieur Bamatabois."
Cosette blinked. Javert . . . that was the name of the man her father was afraid of. Javert had arrested her mother and Valjean had insisted that he free her. Cosette suddenly leapt to her feet.
"Monsieur Madeleine, you have the wrong woman!" she cried, but even as she did the room began to spin, and Cosette fainted.
Elyse3 - Thanks for reviewing. As you were my only reviewer, you win an all-expenses-paid trip to your living room! So you can watch Family Ties or BTTF and drool over Michael J Fox - NO I AM NOT A FAN GIRL! I have lots of guys on TV I get this way over. (See my user profile)
Disclaimer - I still don't own Back to the Future. Not even on video or DVD! I don't own Les Mis, but I do have a copy of the novel, OLC, OBC, TAC DVD, TAC CD, CSR, Highlights CD, and a few random songs off the Internet.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
It had been snowing for a rather long time. Cosette shivered, as her shoulders were still bare.
She had found a snow-free doorway to sit in near the place where the other Fauchelevant had tried to send her to jail. Across the street, the whores were out again for the evening.
Cosette could not help but watch the ragged blonde woman desperately trying to earn a sou. Men scoffed at her as they hurried past to the group of more attractive women. No one in this area seemed to be decent company.
The blonde woman tried to ignore the sneers of the prettier women and their customers. After a few moments she began to pace back and forth, muttering to herself. Every few minutes she stopped and let out a heart-wrenching cough. Cosette fingered the coins in her pocket, wondering what it would look like if she handed a prostitute money.
With a burst of laughter, the door of the tavern behind Cosette opened. A group of well-dressed gentlemen tramped past her and out into the snow, singing loudly, apparently drunk. One didn't see Cosette and tripped over her, fell face-first into the snow, and cursed loudly.
"Whores go to that side of the street, you ninny!" he was shouting.
One of his friends punched his arm and pointed at the blonde woman, still pacing and muttering.
A man in a blue coat and hat was smoking, being highly fashionable. He sauntered over to one end of the woman's path and waited for her to wander near him.
Cosette had mixed emotions. She wanted the woman to earn a bit of money, but she was not sure she wanted to think about how. She half hoped the smoking gentleman would go away and half hoped he would not.
But when the woman's path took her back toward the man, he blew a cloud of smoke towards her and laughed rudely. The woman ignored him and continued to pace.
The smoking man's friends were also laughing and egging him on. Eager to gain more attention, the man continued this insult for a while, still getting no reaction from the woman.
Cosette felt an inexpressible rage bubbling inside her. She wanted to hurt that man. She wanted to-
The man, finally realizing that the woman would continue to ignore him, smiled at his friends and raised a finger to his lips. He knelt down in the snow, gathered a handful of the wet stuff, and got back to his feet by the time the prostitute had reached his end of her path and turned back around. He suppressed a laugh and dropped all the snow down the woman's back.
Cosette gasped and, unable to control the unfamiliar rage, leapt at the man, clawing his face. The woman was shrieking with fury and trying to empty the snow from her clothing. Cosette's hands were suddenly wet, and she realized that she had drawn blood. In a panic, she relented enough for the man to push her off. She landed hard in the snow, staring at her bloody hands.
The man kicked her in the ribs, but the sickly prostitute threatened him, and he melted into the crowd. The blue-lipped woman knelt next to Cosette. "Oh, mademoiselle, thank you! You should not have done that, you know. That will get you in trouble. You should have let me do it, mademoiselle, for I was prepared to."
The woman paused to cough, and Cosette broke in. "What is your name, madame?"
"My name is Fantine, mademoiselle. Fantine la Blonde. Please, don't call me 'madame.'"
"Fantine?" Cosette asked, wondering why the name was so familiar.
Someone grabbed her shoulder roughly and yanked her to her feet. "You forget your place, prostitute," said an icy voice.
A/N - No, she doesn't say 'It's right here, between you and Jack, because A) she doesn't know who's talking and B) there is no one named Jack in this story. I want some popcorn . . .
Cosette spun around. The man who had grabbed her shoulder glared at her. "Come with me."
"Monsieur, Madame Fantine is sick! She needs a doctor!"
"Madame Fantine?" the angry man asked. "Another whore? Then let her die. One less to throw in jail."
He literally dragged Cosette a part of the way to the police station. When they arrived, he thrust her away from him with such force that she landed in a heap on the floor.
A young policeman rushed in from a back room. "Who is it, Inspector?"
"A whore," said the violent man who had dragged her in. He was now seated behind a desk, filling out paperwork. "She attacked a gentleman."
The younger man laughed. "That's, what, three months?"
"Six," said the Inspector firmly.
"Six months?" Cosette repeated desperately. "But monsieur! I need to be back at Monsieur Brown's house! I need to go back to my home before Marius comes! What if he comes and I am not there?"
The young man laughed. "She's a busy one." To Cosette he said, "Should have thought about them before you jumped on the gentleman, hey?"
Suddenly a quiet voice spoke from the doorway. "Release her, Javert."
"Papa!" Cosette cried, for indeed, the mayor had spoken.
Javert rose to his feet. "Monsieur le maire, this is your daughter?"
The mayor frowned. "No, monsieur l'inspecteur. She is apparently sick. She has been in the snow wearing nothing but this for a long while now."
"And you know this . . . how?" Javert asked, his lip curling.
"I was passing through the square when that man threw a snowball down her back. She was not at fault, Inspector Javert. If you wish to throw someone in jail, find Monsieur Bamatabois."
Cosette blinked. Javert . . . that was the name of the man her father was afraid of. Javert had arrested her mother and Valjean had insisted that he free her. Cosette suddenly leapt to her feet.
"Monsieur Madeleine, you have the wrong woman!" she cried, but even as she did the room began to spin, and Cosette fainted.
