Disclaimer: I don't own Victor Hugo's characters, of course. Thanks for reading, and please review!

"And this is a genuine gold watch that I got off of some old guy just a bit ago! Worth quite a lot, I should think!" With a satisfied smile, Simon pocketed his watch, finally done showing me his collection for the day.

"That's nice, Simon," was my standard response. If it were anyone but him, I would have been impressed. After all, Simon was the most talented pickpocket out of all the kids I knew at the time...if stealing could be considered a talent. He was fourteen, a year my senior, and older than most of the kids in that part of town; all of them looked up to him. All but me, that is, because he thought too much of himself. I think the fact that he didn't impress me bothered him, too, so he made a habit out of showing me all the loot he'd acquired recently.

He paused a moment, then took the watch out of his pocket and held it out to me with a strange expression. "Here, you take it."

I looked at it in surprise. "I don't want it!"

Even though it was growing dark, I could see his face redden either in anger or embarrassment. "Why not?"

I shrugged. "Because. Why do you want to give it to me, anyway?"

"Because..." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Because maybe we could...be more than friends." From his expression, I could tell that he hadn't meant to be that blunt.

I laughed. "What are you talking about? 'Maybe we could be more than friends'? What kind of crazy talk is that?"

"It ain't crazy!" he yelled angrily, then stomped off.

I was honestly confused by Simon's odd behavior. I'd never imagined that he had any reason for impressing me other than his own peace of mind in knowing that he had successfully impressed everyone he knew. Suddenly, I felt somewhat guilty, thinking maybe Simon had poured his heart out and I'd just gone and broken it. So I followed him to apologize, all the while wondering where he was going. Probably to steal something, I thought. That seemed to always make him feel better.

Sure enough, I was right. I rounded a corner just in time to see him steal, of all things, a piece of moldy bread from some skinny little girl and stuff it in his mouth. All thoughts of making amends with him flew out of my mind at that instant.

"Simon!" He turned in my direction, startled. "Why don't you leave her alone?"

"Why should I?" he asked me defiantly.

"Because if you don't I'll kick your ass!" I told him, equally defiant.

He grinned somewhat sadly. "See, that's what I like about you, Ellie. You ain't scared of nothing." He glanced disdainfully at his little victim. "Like most girls." With that, he walked off.

I went over to the kid, who was just sitting there, trembling all over like some little mouse who'd barely escaped being mauled by a cat. I sighed and, digging in the pocket of my dirty old dress, tossed her a coin. "Here, go get yourself something else to eat, okay? I doubt that bread was any good anyway. I hope it makes him good and sick. It'd serve him right." I turned and walked away, but before I got too far, something made me look back.

The girl was still sitting there shaking all over. She'd not even picked up the coin I'd given her, but left it laying where it had fallen. I went back to her, somewhat concerned. I hated seeing these kids who had no idea how to survive on the streets, amidst policemen and jerks like Simon and all kinds of other crazy stuff. And I had a feeling that this kid, whoever she was, wasn't going to make it on her own.

"Hey, what's you name?" I asked her as gently as I was capable of being. She didn't respond, just stared at me fearfully. "I'm Elise," I continued after a while. "That jackass who took your bread was Simon. You needn't worry about him. He's all talk, he won't hurt you." Still she said nothing. "You aren't much for small talk, huh? Well, that's okay, it really doesn't serve much purpose." I paused, studying her...she couldn't have been more than seven or eight, poor kid. "Hey, I bet you're hungry." If she wasn't literally starving, I'd be surprised. She looked like she'd fall over if you so much as touched her. "I know I am. Why don't we go grab a bite? What do you say?" Of course, she didn't say anything, but she did stand up and come with me, which I guess showed some progress.

I was surprised when she thanked me after I bought her something from a little shop around the corner. We were just sitting on the curb eating, and all the sudden I heard this, "Thanks." I was rather startled, as I had begun to think she was mute.

"So, you do talk?" I asked her with a little smile.

She nodded, then made an attempt to explain her behavior earlier. "I'm shy."

"Shy, huh?" I paused for a moment, pretending to be puzzled by her comment. "Well, that's kind of a weird name...do other kids ever give you a hard time?"

She giggled, which is what I'd kind of hoped for. "'Shy' is not my name!"

"It's not?" I asked her in mock confusion. "Well, what is your name, then?"

"Fantine," she told me, still smiling in amusement, probably thinking I was a real idiot. But at least I was getting somewhere.

"Well, Fantine, where are your folks?"

She stopped smiling immediately and just shrugged.

"You don't know?"

She shook her head but said nothing. Great, I thought, we're back to where we started.

"Well, have you been on your own for long?" By her expression, I was afraid she was about to cry, and I really wasn't looking forward to that, as I've never been that great at being sympathetic.

"No," she told me quietly. "I lived with Agnes."

"Who's Agnes? Your sister?"

Again I guessed wrong. "No. She's the lady I lived with my whole life. She told me that the angels gave me to her. Left me right on her doorstep." Fantine smiled faintly, but I couldn't help reading between the lines of this nice story, and for the millionth time, I wondered bitterly why people had kids if they were just going to abandon them. But Fantine sounded as though she was luckier than most, having ended up with this Agnes person.

"Are you lost, then? I'm sure Agnes is real worried about you."

It was at that point that she started to cry. Great.

"Hey, don't cry! If you're lost, I'll help you get home okay."

"No," she sobbed. "It's n-not that. Agnes...Agnes..."

"She died?" I finished for her quietly. She nodded, her sobs growing louder.

I didn't know what to say to her. I made it a rule never to cry myself, so I was never sure how to comfort someone in tears. It made me uncomfortable. But I liked this kid, and I felt sorry for her. I wanted to say something.

"I'm sorry about that, Fantine. I'm sure she was a real nice lady and you miss her a lot. But..." I paused, considering what I was getting myself into. "But you don't need to be scared about what you're going to do now. You can stick with me for a while if you want."

Her crying subsided for a moment. "You mean, I can live at your house?"

"Hey, I don't even live at my house." I sounded bitterer than I had intended to, but I don't think she caught that.

"You mean you have a house and don't live in it?" she continued innocently. I wasn't too fond of sharing my life story with others, but I knew that, in all fairness, it was her turn to play twenty questions.

"My mother and I don't exactly get along," I replied.

"Oh." That was all she said. Nothing about why my mother and I weren't on good terms, or where my father was, or anything. She actually knew when to quit. I was impressed.

About that time, Simon came along. "Hey, Ellie." Fantine stiffened, and I returned Simon's greeting with a glare.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"What do you think?" I snapped.

He shrugged, then saw Fantine. "Did you get yourself a new friend, Ellie?"

"Yeah," I replied, ignoring his mocking tone, "and you owe her an apology."

He grinned. "Aw, Ellie, you know I ain't big on apologizing."

"You better get big on apologizing, then."

Simon was quiet for a moment, and I could tell he was amused, which irritated me. "I don't know what I'd be apologizing for...I was doing her a favor. That bread tasted like you wouldn't believe, and I bet it's gonna come back up any minute now." He smirked at Fantine. "You can have it then."

"Hey, Simon," I said after a moment, "you know what you said about wanting to be more than friends?"

That wiped the smirk off his face. Suddenly he looked defensive and at the same time, the slightest bit hopeful. "Yeah?"

"What's so funny about that," I told him, "is that we're not even friends." Without waiting for his reply, I stood up, glancing down at Fantine. "Come on, if you're coming."

We walked in silence for a little while, then all of the sudden Simon called out to Fantine. "Hey, kid!"

She regarded him warily.

He paused, then finally said it. "Sorry."

He looked at me then, waiting for my reaction. My eyes met his for just an instant, then I looked away.

"Let's go, Fantine."