"Your father is who?"

Just a note. For those of you who visualize what you're reading, I write with Terrence Mann's and Geoffrey Rush's Javert in mind. (http/www.lesmis.de/pics/rush.jpg) and (http/ Philip, but first impressions last the longest. That and I've got a kiddie crush on Terry. :) Heh.. Read on!

PART SECOND

Javert trudged unbothered by the cold through the snowdrifts, seemingly unaware of the child struggling to keep up behind him. For every step of his, she took three, and before long she'd fallen far behind, and seeing that the man had no intention of glancing behind to see that she kept up, resigned herself to stopping completely. The cold, frightened child bit her lip and ducked behind a corner of two buildings, and there she sat shivering and forgotten, hugging her blue arms about her.

True to his character, Javert made no effort to make sure the child was still with him, and, having reached his door and moved his hand to his pocket for the key, finally noticed the child's absence. Spinning around and glaring into the snowstorm, she was nowhere to be found. He turned back around without a care and fished in his pocket for the key, and, lifting it to the lock, paused.

Somewhere the girl had fallen behind, and was probably at the moment buried under a snowdrift. Javert was a man of his word, whether that word was to a prostitute or not, and when that's all people knew him for, he had a duty to keep it. Needless to say, he wasn't the most popular man among the citizens of the city, but they at least knew that when he made a promise about something, he'd keep it. Not always to their benefit.

Grumbling inwardly as he retraced his steps down the streets, Javert scanned the sidewalks and spaces between buildings for signs of the child. She must've fallen farther behind than he'd thought, and the farther he walked, the more impatient he became.

Darcy sat in a miserable heap where she'd settled. Javert's tall figure blocked the light for a moment as she passed, and her tiny head flew up, eyes wide. Scrambling to her feet she clambered out of the small crawl space and took off after him. She opened her mouth to call out, but the only thing that came out was a small squeak, her vocal cords were so cold.

Javert heard the sound and turned around to see the girl chasing after him. Her cheeks and lips were tinged with blue and starting to match her eyes. He could see her mouth opening and closing silently. Javert's impatience subsided immediately and he took pity on the poor freezing thing. It was the first, and probably last, he would ever do so. Javert picked her up, and removing his long overcoat, wrapped it about her, leaving him in only his shirt and vest. The child shivered inexorably through the jacket and Javert resumed his steps toward home.

"Monsieur…" came the child's tiny voice over Javert's shoulder. "Where is my mother?"

"Your mother has been arrested." Javert said stonily. "You will not be able to see her again."

Tears began to form in the child's eyes, and she wiped them away before the man could see them. The thought of never being able to see her mother again brought a fearful feeling to her stomach. And where were they going?

As they passed the corner where she'd been hiding, Darcy looked over at her doll, discarded in the snowdrifts and cried; "My dollie!" Javert paused and looked over at the sodden thing and shook his head.

"We'll get you a new one.."

Javert laid the small girl in the overstuffed chair in the common area of his small apartment, still wrapped in his coat. She obviously couldn't sleep in her wet clothes, and he had no children's clothes, and no way to get some at this late hour. Sighing and rubbing his temples tiredly, he strode into his own room and opened a few drawers, searching for something, God willing, small enough for the girl to wear, and finding nothing. He turned from the armoire and entered the side room he used for storage. Most of what was in here had been confiscated from prisoners, and was mostly rags, tools and weapons of all sorts. He dared to look around and notice the mess in the room, made a mental note to straighten up some of it, and throw out what couldn't be of use to someone else. Opening a few of the bags and boxes gingerly, he sighed. Doubtful he would find any children's clothing in here. He turned to leave, and as he did, a small cloth bag sitting in a heap under a leaning peice of wood caught his eye. Curious now, he knelt down and brought the bag toward him. Opening the lip, he took out -- of all things -- a cloth doll and a small peice of fabric. Unfolding it, and shaking away some dust, it turned out to be a pair of little boy's knickers. Javert frowned. What would a boy want with a doll? Dismissing the thought, he discovered the rest of the small bag contained a shirt, supposedly to go with the pants, and a pair of roughly made leather shoes. Javert suppressed a wry grin and pickd up the clothing and shoes.

The child was asleep where he'd left her, and very still. Javert moved the backside of his hand to her pale cheek. She was cold, but had no fever. Laying the clothing down beside her, and moved a hand to the buttons under her chin, and stopped himself. If only it was daytime, he could get one of the neighbor housewives to do this. With a sigh he grudgingly started on the buttons at the child's collar, keeping his eyes pointed over her shoulder. At length the dress came off, leaving her in her undergarments, and Javert slipped the boy's shirt over her head, pulling her arms through, and then the pants. The shoes could wait, and Javert, glad the task was done with, laid the girl down and pulled his jacket over her once again.

He retired to bed. Morning would come too soon.

Darcy opened her eyes and sat up. She was wrapped in a blanket, as the had reclaimed his coat, and the apartment was flooded with mid-day light. The aforementioned was nowhere to be found, and Darcy got down off the chair and went to the window, standing on a chair to peer outside. In the street, schoolchildren played on their lunch break and housewives carried baskets of this and that around. Darcy smiled. Maybe she'd have a friend.

She opened the door and blinked as her eyes adjusted. The other children were playing a game of tag, and their raucious laughter filled the streets. Darcy stepped off the doorstep, and chaos ensued. A horrible sound filled her ears and she staggered back onto the doorstep as a passing horse and cart staggered by.

"Watch where yer goin' kid! Ya coulda been killed!"

The sound had been the horse rearing. Darcy sat where she'd landed with her hands behind her and sitting on her haunches in the doorway, her heart gradually slowing down. What a way to start the first day. One of the schoolchildren had wandered over, a girl with bright red hair.

"You hafta watch out for the vendors." she said frankly. "They don't watch where they're going, so you have to."

Darcy nodded solemnly and the girl continued unabashedly.

"Where do you live?"

Darcy looked back at Javert's apartment and the girl followed her gaze and gave a gasp and a stagger backward. She ran off back toward the other schoolchildren and whispered something to one of them. Darcy watched them curiously. After a few seconds a few more came over, followed by the red-haired girl.

"Do you know-" the girl started, then looked over her shoulder warily. "You live in Monsieur L'Inspector's apartment?"she whispered. A small titter passed through the group. Darcy looked at her blankly a moment.

"Oh. The man with the black coat?"

"Yes. You didn't know?"

"Well, I-"

"I didn' know 'e 'ad a daughter..." one of the boys piped up.

"Oh, I'm not his-"

"Abbey! Luke! Back to school with you!" a woman called from a doorway. The red-haired girl looked back over her shoulder as her brother took off, and the rest of the schoolchildren scattered gradually. She took a step forward.

"Want to play tomorrow? We're here every day at noon. You already know my name."

"Okay..." Darcy smiled.

"Okay, see you then.." Abbey took off, stopped and turned back.

"Oh. And don't do anything bad! Nobody likes the Inspector... you'll see why." With that, Abbey took off running again after her brother.

Darcy scratched her head. What was so bad about the man? Shrugging her shoulders, she glanced both ways before heading back inside and closing the door. She plopped back down in the chair and surveyed her surroundings. The furnishings were simple, yet fancier than anything she'd ever been accusomed to. The dining area had a table and two chairs, there was a small kitchen area, and a hallway to her right beyond her vision, as well as the common area in which she sat. Across from her was a wooden bench, and on it-

Darcy let out a cry of glee. The man hadn't lied. Sitting on the wooden bench was a cloth doll, but fancier than the one she'd lost. It was missing a few of its yellow yarn hairs, and it was slightly dusty, but Darcy hugged it to her chest nonetheless. Maybe living here, waiting for her mother wouldn't be so bad.

Javert, done with the day's work, trudged through the muddy snow towards home, missing several of the odd glances and smirks he received on the way. A few schoolboys returning home from classes laughed quietly to themselves as he passed, a few of them members of Abbey's group Darcy had met earlier. Rumors flew fast in Monterfermeil, especially when spread by mischievious schoolboys.

Javert paused by the vendor selling groceries around the corner from his apartment for a loaf of bread and a bottle of milk, and the vendor suppressed a wry smile as the items were paid for. Javert looked up and raised an eyebrow. The vendor caught himself immediately and wiped the grin off his face.

"Something amusing, Jonathon?" Javert asked, holding his gaze.

"I-uh..heh, weelll..."

"I'm waiting."

"You see... my little girl tells me-not to be spreading rumors sir-, but eh..not that's it's any of my business.."

Javert looked skyward and sighed.

"Did you..eh, take on a wee one?" Jonathon asked curiously.

Javert had never lied in his life, and had no intention of starting now, even to save his own reputation. Doubtless if Darcy had made herself seen, then the rumors had flown across the city almost instantaneously, and probably one in every household knew of it.

"For the time being." he said and without waiting for a response, turned and started toward his apartment. The vendor just watched with his mouth open slightly. His wife, having come to call him home for the evening, looked at him strangely.

"Jonathon dear, close your mouth, you're catching flies."

"Rosie love... Monsieur L'Inspector... has a daughter."

"Really?" Rosie asked, looking curiously at Javert's retreating figure. "Now who in God's name would-" she shut up as her husband elbowed her.

"Rosie, don't be rude. I don't think she's blood."

"Darcy!" Javert called as he entered the apartment.

"Yes, monsieur!" came a call from somewhere in the apartment, and Darcy ran out with the doll in her hands.

"Come here." Javert said sternly, and the child knew she was in for it. Trudging slowly over, she stopped at his feet, feeling very small. Javert knelt down to her level, and black eyes met blue, but only one set was fearful. The other was just irate.

"Did you go outside today?" Javert asked sternly. Darcy nodded.

"Did you talk to some children?" Again the child nodded.

"And what did you say?"

Darcy hesitated.

"Well?"

"They asked me... where I lived, and I told them here."

"And...what else?"

"They asked if I was your daughter, and I said no, but they didn't listen. Then they left."

Javert nodded. "Is that all?"

"Yessir."

Javert got to his feet and removed his coat, and, taking the loaf of bread and bottle of milk out of the coat's deep pockets, moved to the kitchen to prepare something for the evening meal. It would be simple, as he was no expert cook, but would sustain them nevertheless. Darcy just stood and watched him as he went about his business.

"Are you angry?" she asked boldly. For a moment Javert didn't answer.

"No. I neglected to tell you not to go outside, and so you did, so it is not your fault. But as of tomorrow, you are to stay in the apartment."

Darcy remembered the invitation to play with Abbey the next day, and bit her lip. Javert glanced at her and suppressed a roll of the eyes. He didn't think he'd have the patience for childish tears tonight.

"Monsieur.."

"What is it?"

"One of the schoolgirls. She asked me to play outside at noon tomorrow. If I could..go outside for a while..I'd come right back in and stay here until you got back.."

Darcy said quietly. Javert had to strain to hear her. "Just for a while?"

Javert considered this. The rumors were already out, there was nothing that could be done about that. The neighbors already knew there was a child living with him. What they didn't know was where she came from. Her existence however, was undeniable. She might as well make a few friends.

"Very well. For an hour and a half. No more. Then I want you to stay here until I return."

Javert missed the brilliant grin that spread across the child's face and, common sense returning and telling her to run with her good luck while it lasted, she ran over to the overstuffed chair and climbed into it to play quietly with the doll.