Thanks to: Penny, AmZ, Jinky, La Mims, Elyse3, M. Mabeuf, Mietta, Robyn-Enjolras, Precious Angel, Music Angel no.24601, Pontmercy (Could you please type your email again? It didn't get through), unseengenius, and Erik's Wild Nightingale for reviewing. I'm glad this brightened up your days…your reviews certainly brightened mine.

Enjolras quietly and carefully crept down the alley (which doesn't mean it sloped or anything, but…you know) and kept to the shadow of a warehouse that ran along its side.

Please let Jean be all right…please let Jean be all right…were the only words running through our fearless leader's head…and we know he sort of has a very one-tracked mind. So one-tracked, in fact that he was going to go ANY lengths to save his friend.

Well, maybe not ANY lengths.

But far enough, that's the point.

Also – being absolutely focused on the task at hand – he did not notice the figure creeping up behind him until it called "Enjolras?"

Enjolras gasped, spinning around and seeing the cloaked figure. Immediately directing this ghastly image to the Informative, he pounced on it, pinning it to the ground.

"Enjolras! Let go of me! Ow!" A familiar voice whined.

This took a moment to sink in.

"Courfeyrac?" Enjolras asked, hardly daring to believe it.

"Yes! Courfeyrac! Now, GET OFF ME!"

Enjolras backed off Courfeyrac, who looked amused and annoyed at the same time.

"My God, do you know how much you weigh?" he said, giving a little laugh and brushing himself off.

"Are you calling me fat?" Enjolras huffily said, half relieved, half angry.

"No…more…" Courfeyrac paused, trying to find a non-insulting word, "Big-boned."

"Well, at least I'm not-!" Enjolras paused, hearing another yelp that sounded more like a whimper.

"Yes, not what? Go on!" Courfeyrac interrupted, looking slightly offended, though curious, as he did not quite know what the offence really was.

"Shush!" Enjolras motioned for him to be silent, squinting at the entrance to the dump.

"What's wrong? What're you looking for?" the ever-inquisitive Courfeyrac asked, being…well…inquisitive, "Come to think of it. What're you doing out here in the first place?"

Enjolras turned around, "I'll tell you…if you shut up."

"Fine, fine!" Courfeyrac crossed his arms, using his hands to motion that he should continue.

"I'm here…to save Jean Prouvaire from the Fan Girls."

Courfeyrac burst out laughing.

"Enjolras! I never knew you were so good at making up stories!" he chortled, clutching his stomach and gasping for air.

"I'm not joking!"

This only succeeded in making Courfeyrac laugh harder.

"Shut up!"

This of course, made Courfeyrac laugh even harder.

"Never mind!" with his friend laughing his head off behind him, Enjolras crept up to the entrance of the dump, looking in.

Sure enough, there were the girls looking smug.

"We got him!"

"Yup!"

"Yes, good job, fellow Fan Girls," the President said, nodding, "We got the first one. One down, seven to go."

Seven? Enjolras wondered, that couldn't be right…Grantaire, Marius, Joly, Bahorel, Lesgles, Feuilly, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and me. That's 9…

Realizing what he had just thought, he shook his head in horror.
Why would the fan girls be after the Les Amis de l'ABC?

Sure, some of them looked all right…but…not all of them, surely!

Ah, not all of them…Seven…this swirled in Enjolras' head, and he understood.

Or rather, he thought he did.

That would be Marius, Joly, Bahorel, Lesgles, Feuilly, Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Prouvaire…Those eight…

Enjolras, giving not the least bit of care to his looks, didn't include himself in the list.

Oddly enough, this made him more correct than he knew.

"What're you looking at?" Courfeyrac interrupted, popping up next to him.

"Look, the fan girls!" Enjolras hissed.

"What? I don't see anyone."

True to his word, the fan girls had departed.

"Oh. Well, they left." Enjolras glumly concluded, "We'll never find Prouvaire! They've held him hostage!" he paused, then grabbed Courfeyrac by the shoulders, "You might be next! Barricade yourself!"

Courfeyrac slowly put his hands on Enjolras' shoulders firmly and looked him in the eye.

"Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm not crazy, if that's what you're saying!"

"Enjolras, seriously. I think you need to lie down."

"I think that we should save Jean Prouvaire."

"Well, I think that Jean Prouvaire is fine. At home. Sleeping. As we both should be doing. Come on, I'll walk you home." Enjolras opened his mouth to protest, but Courfeyrac stopped him, "Nothing you say is going to change my mind. I'm here to help. After all, what are friends for?"

"Well…maybe I was just imagining things…" Enjolras admitted, "But…honestly…"

"Just get some sleep, Enjolras. The truth shall come with the dawn."

"That was oddly poetic."

"Yes, I know. I got it from Jean Prouvaire."

And with that, the two trotted back to Enjolras' apartment.

The truth shall come with the dawn…

And – unfortunately enough – it did.

One more thing, a question Mietta had: "Did his beloved vest survive?"

Actually, the vest DOES come into play. Somewhere. At some point. I think.