MARIUS

Marius entered the café at ten past seven. Lesgle and Courfeyrac were waiting for him.

"Ah! Good- he's here."

Marius reached into his pocket and brought out his wallet. "Hey. So. What would you like?"

Courfeyrac clicked his tongue. "Actually." He grabbed Marius's arm gently. "Let's go back here." He began to steer Marius towards the table to the far back of the café, but at the last second turned right. "It is my job to see you into the new world," he said, smirking.

They stopped in front of a door. A nondescript door. That was it.

Lesgle pushed it open and the three entered the room.

ENJOLRAS

It was a bit past nine, and all of the Spoken were leaving the café. Enjolras, however, pulled Courfeyrac and Lesgle aside.

"Why did you bring him here? He will be useless. He has no political opinions to speak of- it's obvious that he simply recites what he has been taught…"

"He's a warm body," Lesgle snapped. "We need everybody that we can get."

Enjolras corrected him. "We need every trustworthy body that we can get. We do not know anything about Marius, aside from the fact that he's absentminded and the fact that he misses classes. And those two facts are hardly ringing endorsements."

"Look. He owes me. And he's too… He's too much of a dreamer to concoct a vicious scheme. I know his type."

Courfeyrac sighed. "May I propose a compromise? I happen to agree with Lesgle in that he may be a valuable addition to The Spoken, but I also agree with Enjolras in that constant vigilance is the only way through which we can operate. Thus, I propose that we include Marius in some- only some- of the things that we do. In this way, we can evaluate him accurately while completing the… heavier… work on our own."

"Essentially, you'd like to involve him in the petitioning of the school board." Enjolras frowned. "I'll permit it. Though I must ask why, in this sudden manner, the two of you became so interested in, shall we say, initiating Pontmercy to our cause."

Lesgle shrugged. "Personality click. I don't know. He seems trustworthy to me, and something told me that…" he shrugged again.

"Something told you," Enjolras said, a disdainful smirk evident in his eyes. "Then I will, for the time being, trust your judgment. You have yet to seriously disappoint me," he finished, before glancing at Lesgle again unsmilingly. "But I trust that you will attempt to go a full month or so without another detention?"

Lesgle squirmed, but Courfeyrac nodded comfortably.

"Good, then."

COSETTE

She stood before the mirror in her ornate dressing gown, brushing her hair. Thinking about him. She hadn't seen him in lunch period, and she hadn't had any classes with him. She did not even know his name. Yet she felt that something was rising inside her. There was a fluttering sensation in her stomach that had been there all day, and something told her that the nerves of attending school for the first time had little to do with the feeling.

There came a knock on her bedroom door, and she put the brush down before crossing the room and turning the knob.

"Hey, Papa."

"Hello, Cosette."

She stood back courteously. "Would you like to come in?"

He smiled. "I would; thank you."

The bedroom was large- among other things, it contained a queen-sized bed with fluffy white linins and large, comfortable pillows. There was a small alcove opposite the bed, adjacent to a large desk. In this alcove there was a small wicker table and two matching chairs. It was here that Cosette navigated with her father.

"How was your day, papa?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you braving public school for the first time. Are you sure that it was okay? I can't help but think that maybe we should have waited until the beginning of next year…"

Cosette smiled warmly and took his hands over the table. Something told her not to inform her father of the young man that she had met, but it didn't stop her from giving an otherwise perfectly detailed account of the day.

He knew that something was amiss, but did not press the matter. After all, he trusted Cosette implicitly, and knew that her judgment would surpass that of many that had achieved twice her age.

Half an hour later, he rose, kissed her on the forehead, and said goodnight. As he left, he could have sworn that he heard Cosette singing- a lovely, lilting tune full of childish wistfulness and… Something else…

JEHAN

Aside from The Spoken, Jean Prouvaire had one rather close friend- a friend that he shared with Grantaire in particular. The rest of The Spoken knew this friend and rather liked him, but Jehan was the only one of them that had classes with him.

After leaving the café, Jehan ventured over to the school to meet this friend.

"Hello, Gavroche."

"Oh. Hello." Gavroche motioned from the bench on which he sat towards the front doors of the school. "Well? Shall we?"

"Sure." They slipped inside the school. "So what's new?" Jehan asked as they walked towards the library.

"Oh. Not too much. Let's see. I have three classes with Azelma this semester, so that's bound to be interesting. Eponine seems more preoccupied than usual, and my parents are as honorable as they always are. That, and Dominique Javert seems determined to nail me with something- anything- within the first week of school. What's new with you?"

Jehan shrugged. "Actually, there's a reason I asked you to meet me tonight."

"Yeah? Aside from the pleasure of my glowing company?" Gavroche asked snarkily.

"Yes. I need to talk to you about Javert."

"Oh? You interested?"

"No. It's just that, well, Enjolras brought her to my attention and told me that you'd be a good person to talk to."

"Is he interested?"

"No. Shut up. Apparently, they- Javert and Enjolras, I mean- had some sort of showdown in the library today, and she caught sight of one of his drafts for a petition or something. He says that he has no clue about how much she saw, but if she gets on our case or something, well, you can see why that would be troublesome."

Gavroche shrugged his small shoulders. "I can't, actually, see why it would be a problem. 'Kay, so she saw a speech or whatever it was. We're entitled to some things, after all. United States of America."

"Corrupted United States of America. Enjolras…"

"What?"

"Enjolras says that they're not responding. The Government, I mean. The Victors. I mean, come on! He's spoken to a few non-party senators face to face, you know, the old Democrats and Republicans and Independents- whatever, and petitions, letters, complaints, whatever, have been coming in, all over the place. The non-Victors have less and less power every second. The century is only half over, but we have the most oppressive Supreme Court that we've had. The sane voices in Congress are being silenced, somehow, and they're terrified about this. No one really knows. All we know is that gradually, that idiot in the White House is gaining more and more power. I never knew that there were so many loopholes in our legal system! But do you realize, he's been in there for over twenty years! Thirty years ago, we would have called it impossible. But now, with how they're screwing with the Constitution…"

Gavroche halted Jehan's rant. "What, exactly, are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that… Enjolras said something last week that had a very profound effect on a good number of us. Something along the lines of, well, they can't ignore us much longer. But if they do, we may be forced into something radical."

Gavroche grinned. "And you want me to keep little miss perfect-Javert off your backs so that her daddy doesn't catch wind of anything and pass it upwards in the government, right?"

"Um, yeah. That's the basic gist of it."

Gavroche snapped his fingers. "Consider it done; she's so much fun to screw with." He paused. "Though, Jean, I must ask. How far are you willing to follow Enjolras?"

Jehan shrugged. "To the end of all things, I guess, so long as his beliefs are what they are. We follow the truth of his convictions; we share those convictions. We don't follow him."

"If you're sure. Just promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

"If there's any fighting, let me help. Oh, but I love chaos."

Jehan gave Gavroche a troubled look. "Don't kid about stuff like that."

"Why? Do you think that it'll actually happen? Revolution?" He snorted. "It's impossible."

"No! It's not, and that's what's bothering me. Look at the economy. Since the turn of the century, we've been going downhill. That, plus the suppression of any rights we have… We're living under a dictatorship. Don't deny it."

"Are you predicting a revolution?" Gavroche asked simply.

"We're not predicting anything," said a voice lower than Jehan's. The two freshmen spun to see Enjolras, leaning against the door of the library entrance. "However. Others are, and it's quite possible that, if our situation continues to progress in the way that it has, we may be forced into revolution." He fell silent for a few moments. "But it is too soon to contemplate such things; if we continue to fight through the courts in a civil way, gradually attacking every injustice, we may still have a chance. The Constitution still holds." He beckoned them closer to whisper. "I wouldn't be surprised if we are being recorded as we speak; that's why I came after you." He made a motion with his hand, and they slid out the back door of the library that led into the auditorium, passing the theatre's set crew as they did and drawing a few suspicious glances. As soon as they reached the courtyard, Enjolras turned towards the two younger students, their breath forming mist in the winter air. "Did you discuss Javert?"

Gavroche nodded. "Don't worry about her. I can keep her busier than anything." He gave a mocking salute. "The girl's insane; stuff like that's never too hard when it's with a crazy person."

ENJOLRAS

He finished typing the letter to the school board, the corrections included. With a frown, he looked at the bottom of the document before adding a footnote.

"If there is any fixed star in our constitutional constellation, it is that no official, high or petty, can prescribe what shall be orthodox in politics, nationalism, religion, or other matters of opinion or force citizens to confess by word or act their faith therein."

-- Justice Robert Jackson

His eyes misted for a moment before he printed the document and turned to his long-overdue studies. However, twenty minutes into his homework, he found his attention wandering. He rose from his desk and pulled the petition from the printing tray, as to read the footnote again. Upon finishing, he ran his fingers across the print and sighed.

"There is our flag now."