Christmas Eve, 1833

The door flew open, and a harried-looking man in a bulky fur coat trudged inside, leaving a thick trail of ice, snow and muck behind him. A bitterly cold wind whistled in after him, almost blowing the door completely off its hinges. The man turned around, gripped the doorknob in one strong, gloved hand, and slowly forced the door shut again. The wind fought back, but the man proved to be the stronger in this contest of might, and he triumphed over brutal Winter.

The room was small, but open. A colossal fireplace took up the majority of the wall opposite the door, and the fire blazing inside of it was so bright that its light could be seen shining on the snow outside of the little cabin. Before this fire there were two tall arm chairs. The man went straight for the nearest one, and sat down to take off his boots. He struggled for a moment with the first one before it flew off suddenly and splashed partially melted snow all over. Unfortunately, the man in the other armchair received a good portion of this rime, and he jumped up, fuming.

"For God's sake, Valjean!" he yelped. "Take care!" He brushed the ice from his clothes as best as he could and sat down heavily again in the armchair.

The first man-Valjean-glowered at him. But far from offending the other man, this scowl actually seemed to improve his spirits, if anything, and the man said pleasantly, "So I see that you've finally shuffled off your mortal coil, Valjean."

"Though in a slightly less theatrical manner than you, Javert," Valjean replied stiffly.

Javert gave a soft chuckle. "What can I say, Valjean? I wanted to go out with a bang." He paused, musing. "It was my time anyhow," he continued. "I grew tired of the never-ending charade that was my human life. And I was starting to get the feeling that people were discovering my secret."

Valjean rolled his eyes. "Javert, just because that one little girl figured you out doesn't mean that others had as well."

Javert waved away this comment with a flip of his slender hand. "It's just as well," he said breezily. "Where have you been? I've been waiting here for months. I thought you died back in June."

"I did."

"So where have you been?"

"Around."

Javert snorted. "Brooding, no doubt!"

"Not brooding. Thinking."

"Brooding," Javert muttered.

"Well, I'm here now, so stop complaining. We've got a lot to do tonight, so we may as well get started."

"Not yet, I'm freezing."

Valjean sighed. "Alright, I'll get you a cup of coffee. But after that, we leave!" With some effort, he arose from his seat and ambled into the other room.

"Valjean!" Javert called after him.

"Yes?" came the faint reply.

"I've got a question for you!"

"Yes?"

"Do you really think that I'm dark, terrible, and cruel?"

Valjean came back into the living room carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. He gave one to Javert, and then sat back down in his armchair. He took a tentative sip of his coffee. "When did I say that?" he asked.

"A few years ago, on Christmas Eve, to your little girl."

"Oh, yes," Valjean said. "I remember."

"Well?"

"You are quite dark in colour," Valjean began. "And you certainly are a terrible dresser. But maybe calling you cruel was a bit harsh."

Javert snorted. "I should think so," he replied.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be." Javert looked down at his coffee. "Two lumps of sugar with just a splash of cream." He took a long, satisfied sip.

"I remember," Valjean said to him.

"I know, you always do," Javert replied fondly. He smiled slightly and went back to his coffee. Valjean followed suit.

They sat there for a few moments, each quietly enjoying his coffee and the other's company, displaying the breed of devotion that has no need for articulation.

Valjean finished first. He put his boots back on, rose from his chair once more, his old joints creaking in protest, and hobbled over to Javert.. Javert also rose from his chair, and handed Valjean his empty cup and saucer.

"We can leave the dishes until later," he said. "We really should get started."

"Are you sure you've been warmed up sufficiently?" asked Valjean teasingly.

"For now," his companion replied. "The rest will have to wait until we're through." Javert grinned mischievously.

"Of course," said Valjean, his blue eyes twinkling. "So the sooner we leave, the sooner we can return."

"Shall we?" Javert offered his arm, and looked at Valjean expectantly. With a shy smile, Valjean took the proffered arm, and let himself be led to the door.

"This is the first year in quite a long time that we've been able to spend Christmas Day together," Valjean remarked, as Javert opened the front door to their lodge and motioned for him to pass through.

"Yes, it is," Javert agreed. He followed Valjean out into the snow, and shut the door behind him.

"Should be nice."

"Should be."

Arm in arm, they made their way around to the back of their meagre dwelling, where there stood a gigantic stable. In front of this structure, there was an equally gigantic sleigh, red as a cherry, with nine colossal reindeer tied together in front. One of them whinnied, and stamped his mighty foot in a show of impatience. Valjean went to him.

"Why, Auguste!" he exclaimed. He reached into a side pocket and pulled out a handful of sugar cubes. Feeding them slowly to the impetuous buck, he said, "You've readied everything!"

Of course I have!" Javert replied, walking over to him. Placing a hand on Jean Valjean's shoulder, he asked, "So now are you ready?"

Smiled, Valjean turned to him and responded, "I am." He walked over to the sleigh, and hoisted himself up into the driver's seat. Javert followed, and chose the spot right next to his mate. Valjean slung a muscular arm around him, and with his free hand picked up the reins.

"Allow me," Javert said graciously. He reached into the depths of his own furred jacket, and pulled out a long leather whip. With it, he whipped the nearest animal square on its back flank, and the sleigh immediately jerked forward. He stole a glance at Valjean. "They're yours now," he said.

Jean Valjean guided the animals forward; slowly but surely the sleigh picked up speed until the landscape around them all became naught but a green and white blur. "Auguste!" Valjean called over the whistle of the wind. "Let's have one more, shall we?"

In reply, Javert lashed the nearest animal a second time, and the sleigh burst forth, shaking violently. They were now travelling at an alarming rate, faster than the fastest steamboat, fastest than the fastest locomotive. The reindeers' legs were now indistinguishable from the snowy ground that they galloped on.

"One more, Auguste!" Valjean hollered, struggling to make himself heard over the deafening shriek of the wind.

And Javert stood up. He lifted his whip high over his head, and brought it down with such a crack that it resonated in the deep, wild forest for miles and miles around. The first reindeer rose above the ground, then the two after him, and the two after them, and the two after them and the two after them until the very sleigh that Father Christmas and Father Whip rode on lifted up from the frozen Earth and flew effortlessly into the sky. Javert let out a loud whoop of elation, and fell back down into the seat beside Valjean.

"Merry Christmas, Jean!" he cried, embracing him strongly.

"Merry Christmas, Auguste," Jean Valjean replied, gently kissing his companion's cheek.

"I can't hear you, Jean!" Javert yelled in his ear.

"Merry Christmas, Auguste!" Jean Valjean repeated, a little louder.

"The world can't hear you, Jean!"

Jean Valjean stood up, and shouted out to into the night, "Merry Christmas!" And even though the children of the world were all fast asleep, in their hearts they heard this delirious cry, and rejoiced to know that Father Christmas was finally coming to make all of their Christmas wishes come true.

Thank you LadyErised, for allowing me to expand on your "Pere Fouetteard." This chapter is especially dedicated to AmZ, and Tay-kun, who love ValjeanJavert more than anyone should.