A/N - Of course, I must thank my lovely (and I mean that in the least Les
Mizziest way possible) reviewers.
Mlle. Verity le Virago - Most of that chapter was just quoting the movie. But I see what you mean. The first time I understood what Judy was saying there I had to pause the movie and think about it for a few seconds . . . yeah, I can be slow sometimes.
Neila Nuruodo-Javert - Glad you are amused. I am too. Here's some more for ya.
Elendil Star-Lover - Thanks for reading (and ESPECIALLY reviewing) my fic. One word reviews work for me . . . unless that one word is something derogatory. Thanks again for reviewing!
La Pamplemousse - Eep! Elf was FUNNY! Enjoy your lemon squares! Oh wow! I've been inspired to incorporate lemon squares into my story now! Hee hee hee. I'm going to do that. It should turn up in a few chapters.
Elyse3 - Thanks for your review! I have thought of a place where I can shove in all the people who are still asking to be in here, but it's a ways off yet.
Jehan's Muse - One Jehan, coming up (later on . . . )
deja-vu/Thalia - Is this a good thing?
Disclaimer - *Sighs* T'ain't mine. Pas un peu. (I think that's right.) Well, no, Bertrand's mine.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Javert awoke to Gavroche's ecstatic shouts. "M'sieur! M'sieur, come see the presents! It's Christmas! Come look!"
Javert groaned. "Gamin, I am trying to get some rest. Just - Mon Dieu, it's cold!"
Javert heaved himself up from the chair and studied the broken window. The wind was whipping through the station, bringing snow with it. Early risers were already wandering about the street in their Christmas finery, calling greetings to one another or singing at the top of their lungs.
Javert rolled his eyes. "What a ridiculous dream," he muttered.
Gavroche was gleefully unwrapping presents by the stove.
Wait a minute. Presents? Javert had not bought the gamin presents.
The inspector turned to Gavroche. "Where did you-"
He was interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open.
A very handsome young man sauntered into the police station. Javert took in the tattered coat, partially smashed top hat, and long, unkempt hair before asking him to state his business at the station.
The young man, completely ignoring Javert, shouted, "Gavroche, you here?"
Gavroche hopped up from behind the stove, an unwrapped present in his arms. "Parnasse!" he shouted. To Javert he said, "Told you the Patron-Minette would come for me. Thanks for a great night at the North Pole!"
The young man decided to take notice of Javert. "The what?" he asked.
"It was . . . a dream. I dreamed that I went to the North Pole . . . and I must have told Ga- the gamin about it . . . or something like that . . ."
Gavroche, holding all three or four of his presents, scampered over to the two. "Parnasse, this is Inspector Javert. M'sieur, this is Montparnasse."
Javert blinked. He had not been paying attention. Montparnasse from the Patron-Minette, the most notorious and dangerous gang in Paris, was standing casually in front of him. And he was doing nothing about it.
The inspector, first class, slowly reached toward the handcuffs in the inner pocket of his greatcoat. His fingers met silk.
Silk?
Where was his greatcoat?
Javert slowly looked down at himself.
He was clad in the red pajamas Judy had given him.
"WHAT IS THIS?" he shouted.
Montparnasse snorted, grabbed a few of Gavroche's presents, and promenaded out the door of the police station. Gavroche followed.
"Bye, M'sieur! In November, when you go back to the North Pole, can you tell Bernard and Larry and Judy I said hi?"
The inspector blinked at him. "Listen, gamin! I am not going to the North Pole! I am not Père Noël!"
Someone behind Javert snorted much in the way Montparnasse had. Javert whirled around.
It was one of his colleagues, another policeman.
"That, my good inspector, is quite obvious," the man said coolly.
Javert's eyes widened. "Sorry, Bertrand. That crazy gamin thinks that I'm Père Noël."
Looking pointedly at Javert's red silk pajamas, Bertrand said evenly, "I wonder what on earth gave him that impression."
"I . . . I usually don't wear pajamas." Javert said, his voice rising in anger. "I usually sleep in my greatcoat!"
Bertrand turned and went into the station.
Javert looked again at the pajamas. "The Santa Clause?" he whispered to himself.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Yes, it was short, but my mom thinks I'm doing my biology homework right now and I don't want her to get wise. Heh heh . . . "get wise" . . .
REVIEW I SAY!
Mlle. Verity le Virago - Most of that chapter was just quoting the movie. But I see what you mean. The first time I understood what Judy was saying there I had to pause the movie and think about it for a few seconds . . . yeah, I can be slow sometimes.
Neila Nuruodo-Javert - Glad you are amused. I am too. Here's some more for ya.
Elendil Star-Lover - Thanks for reading (and ESPECIALLY reviewing) my fic. One word reviews work for me . . . unless that one word is something derogatory. Thanks again for reviewing!
La Pamplemousse - Eep! Elf was FUNNY! Enjoy your lemon squares! Oh wow! I've been inspired to incorporate lemon squares into my story now! Hee hee hee. I'm going to do that. It should turn up in a few chapters.
Elyse3 - Thanks for your review! I have thought of a place where I can shove in all the people who are still asking to be in here, but it's a ways off yet.
Jehan's Muse - One Jehan, coming up (later on . . . )
deja-vu/Thalia - Is this a good thing?
Disclaimer - *Sighs* T'ain't mine. Pas un peu. (I think that's right.) Well, no, Bertrand's mine.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Javert awoke to Gavroche's ecstatic shouts. "M'sieur! M'sieur, come see the presents! It's Christmas! Come look!"
Javert groaned. "Gamin, I am trying to get some rest. Just - Mon Dieu, it's cold!"
Javert heaved himself up from the chair and studied the broken window. The wind was whipping through the station, bringing snow with it. Early risers were already wandering about the street in their Christmas finery, calling greetings to one another or singing at the top of their lungs.
Javert rolled his eyes. "What a ridiculous dream," he muttered.
Gavroche was gleefully unwrapping presents by the stove.
Wait a minute. Presents? Javert had not bought the gamin presents.
The inspector turned to Gavroche. "Where did you-"
He was interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open.
A very handsome young man sauntered into the police station. Javert took in the tattered coat, partially smashed top hat, and long, unkempt hair before asking him to state his business at the station.
The young man, completely ignoring Javert, shouted, "Gavroche, you here?"
Gavroche hopped up from behind the stove, an unwrapped present in his arms. "Parnasse!" he shouted. To Javert he said, "Told you the Patron-Minette would come for me. Thanks for a great night at the North Pole!"
The young man decided to take notice of Javert. "The what?" he asked.
"It was . . . a dream. I dreamed that I went to the North Pole . . . and I must have told Ga- the gamin about it . . . or something like that . . ."
Gavroche, holding all three or four of his presents, scampered over to the two. "Parnasse, this is Inspector Javert. M'sieur, this is Montparnasse."
Javert blinked. He had not been paying attention. Montparnasse from the Patron-Minette, the most notorious and dangerous gang in Paris, was standing casually in front of him. And he was doing nothing about it.
The inspector, first class, slowly reached toward the handcuffs in the inner pocket of his greatcoat. His fingers met silk.
Silk?
Where was his greatcoat?
Javert slowly looked down at himself.
He was clad in the red pajamas Judy had given him.
"WHAT IS THIS?" he shouted.
Montparnasse snorted, grabbed a few of Gavroche's presents, and promenaded out the door of the police station. Gavroche followed.
"Bye, M'sieur! In November, when you go back to the North Pole, can you tell Bernard and Larry and Judy I said hi?"
The inspector blinked at him. "Listen, gamin! I am not going to the North Pole! I am not Père Noël!"
Someone behind Javert snorted much in the way Montparnasse had. Javert whirled around.
It was one of his colleagues, another policeman.
"That, my good inspector, is quite obvious," the man said coolly.
Javert's eyes widened. "Sorry, Bertrand. That crazy gamin thinks that I'm Père Noël."
Looking pointedly at Javert's red silk pajamas, Bertrand said evenly, "I wonder what on earth gave him that impression."
"I . . . I usually don't wear pajamas." Javert said, his voice rising in anger. "I usually sleep in my greatcoat!"
Bertrand turned and went into the station.
Javert looked again at the pajamas. "The Santa Clause?" he whispered to himself.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Yes, it was short, but my mom thinks I'm doing my biology homework right now and I don't want her to get wise. Heh heh . . . "get wise" . . .
REVIEW I SAY!