((In the words of a certain reviewer, 'He's back! It's good to see the dandy again!' It certainly is. There was originally more content to this chapter, but I liked the point where I left it at. Tell me what you think. I hope this compensates for last chapters questionable quality. Because to sound quite vain, I love it! Even if the characters may be a bit OoC (I'm constantly second guessing myself about that), I love it anyway. Next chapter, it's time to 'fess up! Au revoir,

Shammy))

The well dressed figure looked about the front hall and smiled, though it wasn't real.

"…So this is what you gave up freedom for?" Regaining her composure, Eponine crossed her arms over her chest, managing to look nothing less than displeased at the sight of her 'old friend.'

"If by freedom, you mean starving and freezing to death in the streets…Then yes. I chose to make that…sacrifice." There was a biting sarcasm in her voice that almost surprised him. Then again…he was used to people cowering with terror if he so much as addressed them. It was no wonder her insolent tone surprised him. He laughed gently, a chilling sound that Eponine had never been able to get used to. It was laughter without humour…What was funny to him was probably tragic to everyone else.

"May I come in?" The mock politeness in his voice was as plain as day, as was the excuse that was forming behind her eyes. "I hardly think your 'master and mistress' would mind. They're away, are they not?" He had cut her defense off at the knees, and she stood back a bit as he stepped over the threshold of the doorway.

In old instinct, Eponine felt prickles of fear descend her spine with alarming speed. The effect this man had over her was unnerving. The last thing she wanted was to be alone in a nicely furnished house with Montparnasse. She didn't want to know which of the deadly sins would win; lust or avarice? Or perhaps both.

The devil's playmate shut the door behind him quietly, peering about with a dark, appraising gaze. After a moment he nodded, a signature smirk on his lips.

"Not bad…for a biscuit." He commented casually, detecting the sudden rigidness in her frame.

Eponine's eyes narrowed, filled with memories of the night where the Patron-Minette had intended to rob the house in which they now stood. It had been so long ago, and yet she could still see each member of the deadly gang, eyeing her with growing dislike and impatience.

"It's been refurnished." She muttered, not liking the game he was playing with her. "What do you want, monsieur? I doubt very much you came here to comment on the décor." Two things about this sentence irked him; the use of monsieur, and being addressed as vous as opposed to the usual tu. He raised an eyebrow at her manner, examining a painting on a nearby wall and looking thoughtful.

"Monsieur? Suddenly so formal, Eponine?" He defied her aloof manner, and glanced over. It pleased him to see the sour look on her face. "I suppose it's a fine thing that these bourgeois have taught you some respect."

"I find it odd that you mock the bourgeois when you're well on your way to being one." She nodded at his fine clothing with an amused expression. He glared at her, infuriated by the cheeky tone she used to address him now.

"I will never be a fool like your baron." He spat angrily. "He doesn't care about you."

"He fakes it very well then." Eponine replied petulantly. "Monsieur, I've things to do. Are you fini-"
"Damnit Eponine! You don't belong with them!" His voice could not be described as a yell, but it was certainly not hushed either. "You never have and you never will!"

"Eponine? Who's here?" Grantaire came up from a nearby stairwell, and leaned uncertainly in the doorway. Eponine looked surprised; she'd forgotten he'd been downstairs cleaning out the cellar. From the smell of him, he'd been cleaning out some of the wine kept down there as well.

The drunkard frowned, gazing at Montparnasse with dislike. The thief bristled, casting Eponine an icy glare.

"Alone were you?" He muttered.

"I never said that." She replied haughtily. "I merely said that the master and mistress were out." Grantaire stepped forward, a displeased look on his face. He had the glint of a soldier in his eyes, ready for a fight. It was either incredible bravery, or inconceivable stupidity. He knew for certain whom the guest was, for Eponine told him nearly everything.

"It's alright Grantaire," She stepped in front of him now, looking at the demon by the doorway, "monsieur was just leaving."

Montparnasse let out a sound that one would have thought more appropriate coming from an angry, hungry wolf.

"Until next time… mademoiselle." He ripped open the door and slammed it behind him, leaving two very stunned souls in his wake.

Grantaire put a hand on Eponine's shoulder.

"Are you alright?" She merely nodded, somewhat stunned by the reappearance of sin in her life. Her companion smiled a little.

"Good. Now remind me to ask Marius, when he returns, if we may keep a loaded rifle by the door." He mumbled, heading back down into the cellar.