The character formerly known as Javert, now a pretty whore, marched through the sewers of Paris, her nose in the air. "Oh," she huffed, "'you'll never find your way in these terrible sewers, monsieur! You could never survive these horrors!' Ha! I am an inspector! As such, I know my city as well as I know the back of my hand!" She glanced down at the dainty hand in the place where a rough, masculine hand had been before. "Oh..." she murmured,"right."

"Still," she continued in her man's voice, "that insolent brat thought I would be lost here, in these silly little tunnels of his! How ridiculous!" She stopped and glanced around. "Wait... where am I?"

A shadow moved along the wall.

"Um... who's there?" Javert cried, her voice as high as a normal girl's.

The ominous shadow made no response but to grow larger... and larger... until... a little gamin turned the corner.

"D'you wanna hug, lady?" he asked, his big eyes shining.

"What? A hug, for me?" said Javert.

The gamin nodded and opened his arms.

"GET LOST!" Javert bellowed. The boys scruffy hair blew back from the force of the shout.

Screaming, the gamin turned and fled.

"That little streetrat," muttered Javert. She put her head down and marched forward, grumbling various curses on Montparnasse, the students, and the gamin as she went.

Suddenly, a body was lying in the muck in front of her. Javert froze and looked around.

She had stumbled onto a thieves' camp.

Slowly retreating, Javert held her breath in hopes that the villains would not wake. She had managed not to wake the three and was almost far enough away to break into a run when the gamin from earlier appeared and waved to her.

"Shh," Javert cautioned, putting a finger to her lips.

The boy found a small coin in his pocket and made as if to hurl it onto the nearest sleeping thief.

"No, no," hissed the whore, shaking her head violently.

He smirked at her, nodded, and threw the coin.

Javert clamped her eyes closed and held her breath.

Nothing.

She opened her eyes and looked at the sleeping thieves. None were disturbed. The gamin seemed a little put-out, having just thrown his only money into the muck for no apparent reason.

"HA!" Javert barked.

The thieves leapt to their feet as the boy dashed away, giggling madly.

"Drat," sighed Javert.

"Oy!" one of them groaned, "What're you laughing at, then, Gueulemer?"

"Didn't say nothing," said the largest of them.

Javert felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked down to see that it had apparently dissolved into blackness. "What's this?" a voice hissed in her ear. She turned and saw no one.

"Well, well, well," said the thin one. "Were you looking for a bit of a party, then, m'dear, coming all the way down here?"

"She musta knowed we was lonely for some company!" added the big one, Gueulemer.

The shadow's arm wrapped around Javert's waist. "She's certainly a pretty one. I haven't seen you around, darling. What's your name?"

Javert's voice had abandoned her the moment the unwelcome hand had rested on her hip.

This was probably incredibly fortunate.

"Let's show her a bit of fun, shall we?" the thin one suggested.

"No," said a new voice from behind them. "She's mine. You lot back away, now."

To Javert's surprise, the arm slid away from her waist and the others backed away.

"Come on, lad!" the thin one laughed, "We just wanted a few moments with her!"

"Why d'you always get the pretty ones, I wanna know."

Javert felt a firm hand on her shoulder guiding her away from the thieves. The moment the others were out of sight she whirled around to face her new captive.

It was Montparnasse.

"I told you you'd not make it long without me," he smirked. "Those men almost... er... had their way with you."

"Oh," said Javert as she fainted.