A/N - Aww. Poor Javvie. I write this chapter wearing my way-too-large
overcoat and listening to LM. If you see a typo, these friggin' sleeves
are so long . . . and that's why.
Elyse3 - Gavroche shall reappear until he begins to be annoying. Although he's rather cool in this chapter.
La Pamplemousse - If you think that's frightening, this chapter's even worse. In a good way.
Wierd Kitty - Again, what shall I call you when you reappear? For indeed, the chap-ette on the couch several chapters ago was to be you.
The Phantom Parisienne - I quite enjoyed the button myself. It makes a comeback in this chapter for about a sentence.
I AM JEBUS - ??? Could this be my first flame? Although I'm rather confused . . . La Pamplemousse, I'll donate it to your quest to burn all copies of the Lizzie McGuire Movie, if it is a flame. Man, am I confused. Do you not understand fanfiction, my dear?
Disclaimer - Why do I put one of these at the beginning of every chapter? I don't own Les Mis, but I /do/ own a nearly-life-size cardboard figure of Geoffrey Rush. Admittedly, he's Captain Barbossa in this particular poster, but . . . he /was/ Javert . . . once.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gavroche knocked on Javert's front door several hours later. No one answered. The boy knew Javert was still inside, as he had seen him go in a few hours ago and hadn't seen him come out. He knocked again, harder.
Still no answer.
In frustration, Gavroche slammed his fist against the door with all his strength. To his surprise, it leapt open.
Gavroche shrugged, stepped inside, and looked around.
He was in a rather large entrance hall with a marble floor. There was a corridor leading in one direction and a long staircase in the other. The place was meticulously clean but for a button lying in the corner. Gavroche was not sure where to go next.
A sound like shattering glass echoed from the end of the hallway, giving Gavroche a rather helpful hint.
Gavroche found Javert in the pantry with half a bottle of rum on the table and the shards of several bottles on the floor. A small mirror was also broken. Javert's head was down on the table.
"Monsieur!" Gavroche gasped.
Javert looked up, his eyes bloodshot. "Eh?"
"Monsieur! I'm surprised at you! Look at this?" Gavroche began. He stopped for a second, eyeing the half full bottle on the table. "Can I have some?"
In answer, Javert raised the bottle to his lips and drained it of rum. Gavroche went over to the cabinets and flung them open. All were empty. "Look at this, monsieur!"
Javert gasped. "Why's the rum gone?"
"Because you drank it all, is why! Look at you! What would the children of the world think if they could see Père Noël like this?"
Javert belched. "But why's the rum gone?"
"Monsieur Javert!"
"But how c'n I catch Val -hic- jean if I'm not 'n Inspector? Can't just walk up to'm an' say 'Oy, Valjean, y'r goin' t' jail.' Can't do that 'less y'r 'n Inspector . . . or a p'lice, anyway."
A/N - Just when I finished that paragraph Javert's Arrival and Little People started up and I hope you know I've really yanked these chaps out of character. Anyway, it gave me an idea . . . but that's for later.
"Monsieur, you know that you couldn't have stayed a policeman anyway."
"Wha?"
"Bernard said, 'the wearer waives any and all right to any previous identity, real or implied, and fully accepts the duties and responsibilities of Santa Claus.'"
"'Choo know that?"
"Larry, the elf who showed me the workshop, told me. He told me the clause."
"'Choo 'member that?"
"I don't know. I'm not stupid, monsieur."
A/N - *&#$! Now it's playing Lily's Eyes (I know it's not LM, but it's Philip Quast in all of his beautiful glory, and I feel really bad for what I did and am doing to Javert.) Oh well.
"Really?"
"Honestly. I still remember your poem."
"My wha?" Javert asked.
Gavroche sighed. "This is rather pathetic, monsieur."
Javert blinked slowly.
"Monsieur, look at the mess you made!" Gavroche scolded, indicating the glass-covered floor.
"Broke th' mirror."
"I know. How?"
"Was broke already."
"What do you mean, monsieur?" Gavroche asked patiently.
"Wasn't a picture o' me 'n it. It was someb'dy else."
Gavroche fought down a smile. "What did he look like?"
"'S real fat and 's got a big dark beard 's got gray 'n white in it"
"Monsieur," Gavroche said slowly."
"Eh?"
"That was you."
Javert's red eyes widened. "No. No. I got sideburns. Dark sideburns. 'N I'm in shape. 'S how I catch th' ones who try to run, I c'n go fast."
The fun of seeing ex-Inspector Javert drunk was wearing off, and Gavroche was just plain annoyed. He grabbed the empty bottle from Javert's hand. "I'm leaving, monsieur. You better sober up. I'll check on you in the morning. Go to bed now."
"Eh?"
"Goodbye, Monsieur Javert."
Gavroche turned on his heel and stalked out.
Elyse3 - Gavroche shall reappear until he begins to be annoying. Although he's rather cool in this chapter.
La Pamplemousse - If you think that's frightening, this chapter's even worse. In a good way.
Wierd Kitty - Again, what shall I call you when you reappear? For indeed, the chap-ette on the couch several chapters ago was to be you.
The Phantom Parisienne - I quite enjoyed the button myself. It makes a comeback in this chapter for about a sentence.
I AM JEBUS - ??? Could this be my first flame? Although I'm rather confused . . . La Pamplemousse, I'll donate it to your quest to burn all copies of the Lizzie McGuire Movie, if it is a flame. Man, am I confused. Do you not understand fanfiction, my dear?
Disclaimer - Why do I put one of these at the beginning of every chapter? I don't own Les Mis, but I /do/ own a nearly-life-size cardboard figure of Geoffrey Rush. Admittedly, he's Captain Barbossa in this particular poster, but . . . he /was/ Javert . . . once.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gavroche knocked on Javert's front door several hours later. No one answered. The boy knew Javert was still inside, as he had seen him go in a few hours ago and hadn't seen him come out. He knocked again, harder.
Still no answer.
In frustration, Gavroche slammed his fist against the door with all his strength. To his surprise, it leapt open.
Gavroche shrugged, stepped inside, and looked around.
He was in a rather large entrance hall with a marble floor. There was a corridor leading in one direction and a long staircase in the other. The place was meticulously clean but for a button lying in the corner. Gavroche was not sure where to go next.
A sound like shattering glass echoed from the end of the hallway, giving Gavroche a rather helpful hint.
Gavroche found Javert in the pantry with half a bottle of rum on the table and the shards of several bottles on the floor. A small mirror was also broken. Javert's head was down on the table.
"Monsieur!" Gavroche gasped.
Javert looked up, his eyes bloodshot. "Eh?"
"Monsieur! I'm surprised at you! Look at this?" Gavroche began. He stopped for a second, eyeing the half full bottle on the table. "Can I have some?"
In answer, Javert raised the bottle to his lips and drained it of rum. Gavroche went over to the cabinets and flung them open. All were empty. "Look at this, monsieur!"
Javert gasped. "Why's the rum gone?"
"Because you drank it all, is why! Look at you! What would the children of the world think if they could see Père Noël like this?"
Javert belched. "But why's the rum gone?"
"Monsieur Javert!"
"But how c'n I catch Val -hic- jean if I'm not 'n Inspector? Can't just walk up to'm an' say 'Oy, Valjean, y'r goin' t' jail.' Can't do that 'less y'r 'n Inspector . . . or a p'lice, anyway."
A/N - Just when I finished that paragraph Javert's Arrival and Little People started up and I hope you know I've really yanked these chaps out of character. Anyway, it gave me an idea . . . but that's for later.
"Monsieur, you know that you couldn't have stayed a policeman anyway."
"Wha?"
"Bernard said, 'the wearer waives any and all right to any previous identity, real or implied, and fully accepts the duties and responsibilities of Santa Claus.'"
"'Choo know that?"
"Larry, the elf who showed me the workshop, told me. He told me the clause."
"'Choo 'member that?"
"I don't know. I'm not stupid, monsieur."
A/N - *&#$! Now it's playing Lily's Eyes (I know it's not LM, but it's Philip Quast in all of his beautiful glory, and I feel really bad for what I did and am doing to Javert.) Oh well.
"Really?"
"Honestly. I still remember your poem."
"My wha?" Javert asked.
Gavroche sighed. "This is rather pathetic, monsieur."
Javert blinked slowly.
"Monsieur, look at the mess you made!" Gavroche scolded, indicating the glass-covered floor.
"Broke th' mirror."
"I know. How?"
"Was broke already."
"What do you mean, monsieur?" Gavroche asked patiently.
"Wasn't a picture o' me 'n it. It was someb'dy else."
Gavroche fought down a smile. "What did he look like?"
"'S real fat and 's got a big dark beard 's got gray 'n white in it"
"Monsieur," Gavroche said slowly."
"Eh?"
"That was you."
Javert's red eyes widened. "No. No. I got sideburns. Dark sideburns. 'N I'm in shape. 'S how I catch th' ones who try to run, I c'n go fast."
The fun of seeing ex-Inspector Javert drunk was wearing off, and Gavroche was just plain annoyed. He grabbed the empty bottle from Javert's hand. "I'm leaving, monsieur. You better sober up. I'll check on you in the morning. Go to bed now."
"Eh?"
"Goodbye, Monsieur Javert."
Gavroche turned on his heel and stalked out.