A/N: I'm a terrible updater, aren't I? Sorrysorrysorry! Thanks to: Tsunami Wave (That is for me to know, and for you to find out!), Anonymous/Penny (Okay, OKAY! For some reason, the time when you stuffed my Enjy-sock-puppet into my mouth came to mind), Tay-kun (Here's your update!), Kara (Am waiting for the piccie of me and Jehan! Thanks!), Daughter of Thranduil (Yay! Thanks:hugs new reviewer:), Javerts-Wench (Thanks!)! PLUS: Random thanks to the random person at Penny's school who heard of me.

Combeferre whistled as he walked past a darkened alley. Enjolras had been so sure that Jehan had been kidnapped, but Combeferre secretly thought otherwise. Now they had split up to find him: Courfeyrac with Enjolras, Bossuet with Joly, Grantaire with Feuilly, and Combeferre with Bahorel. There had been no luck so far, and Combeferre was getting nervous. Veeeeery nervous. Veeeeeeeeeeeery nervous. So nervous, I cannot even emphasize how nervous he was. Let us say that he was simply nervous. Veeery nervous. Oh, and did I mention nervous?

"Seen anything?" Combeferre casually asked Bahorel.

"Combeferre," he said exasperatedly, "That's the 5th time in 3 minutes you've asked me that."

"Oh, really?" Combeferre said, flustered, "So, have you s - ?"

"No."

"Oh. Okay."

A pause.

"Do you think Jehan's all right?" Combeferre burst out, glasses askew.

"I'm sure he's fine. After all, finding a poet in Paris is – "

" – a nice alliteration?" Combeferre offered.

" – hard." Bahorel ended.

"Oh."

" 'Oh' indeed." Bahorel sniffed and looked around, "So, do you see anything, Combeferre?"

"Oh! Look at that!" Combeferre frantically pointed past Bahorel, "The alley!"

"Yes, it is an alley, Combeferre. Good job." Bahorel confirmed.

"No, no!"

"So, it's NOT an alley?"

"Bahorel - !"

"If it isn't an alley, what do you think it is? A secret hideout for Jehan's kidnappers?"

"Oh, Bahorel, don't be silly! This is Fan-Girl Alley, as Courfeyrac named it, and only goodness knows why – "

"However, as you always say, 'the good is innocent', so, what would they have to do with Courfeyrac?" Bahorel dryly added.

" – as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," Combeferre huffily said, "Look, here's a sheet of paper!"

"Ooh! A sheet of paper!" Bahorel sarcastically replied.

"Look!" Combeferre picked up the paper and waved in frantically in his face.

"Great! Scribbles!" Bahorel called out, batting away the paper.

"Not just scribbles – Jehan's scribbles!"

Bahorel blinked.

"What does it say?"

"It says…" Combeferre squinted and turned the paper around. Then around again. Then again, "Hmm…what does it say?" he stared at the paper, as if a hidden message would appear in front of his eyes.

"Combeferre, perhaps it would help if you flipped the page over?"

"Ah, yes, of course," Combeferre expertly flipped it over, dropping it, picking it up again, and finally reading, he opened his mouth, then stopped.

"What is it NOW?" Bahorel impatiently said.

"It is almost as if," Combeferre's voice lowered to a whisper, "Some force is trying to stop us from reading the paper…"

Bahorel felt a chill run down his spine.

"However," Combeferre straightened up, "We all know that's a silly idea. Now, it says…" he squinted, "'Silence'."

Bahorel blinked.

Again.

"That's very…" he tried to search for words, "Very…very…uh…just very."

"Perhaps it is a secret message!" Combeferre excitedly said.

"Uh-huh. Right." Bahorel said slowly, drawing out the 'i'.

"Let's rearrange the letters!" Combeferre beamed, whipping out a pencil. After a minute or so, Combeferre began to mutter under his breath rapidly – rather like chanting a spell, Bahorel noticed. He heard a scurrying sound, and thought he heard whispers. Probably a cat, he decided. An ugly cat. Who's just lost a fight with a dog or –

A giggle.

His heart-rate increased a little, and he felt a chill run down his spine for a second time.

Hadn't Enjolras mentioned giggles in Fan-Girl Alley?

"Combeferre," Bahorel slowly said, "We need to get out of here…now…"

"Hang on…"

"Really, Combeferre, we – "

"Waaaaait a minute…"

"Let's leave right - !"

"I'VE GOT IT!"

Bahorel jumped.

"You have?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, what is it?"

"It means," Combeferre paused, possibly for dramatic effect.

"Yes, go on?"

Sullen, Combeferre continued, "Selenic!"

"Selenic." Bahorel repeated.

"Yes, selenic."

"Why would he write that?"

"I don't know."

"And what does it mean?"

"Well, it could mean – " Combeferre fell silent, looking stricken.

"Yes?"

Thump.

Combeferre fell face flat on the floor.

"Combeferre!" Bahorel kneeled down to see his friend, and slowly but surely looked up.

He was face-to-face with a dark-eyed, dark-haired, dark-clothed girl.

"Hello!" she beamed, "Could you please move aside? Pretty-please?"

"No!" Bahorel fiercely said, taken aback, and rather shocked.

"It would really make my job easier."

"No, he's my friend."

"Ah, brotherly love…" the girl sighed, then smiled, "Or not so brotherly."

"What are you saying?" Bahorel suspiciously asked.

"Perhaps I should introduce myself," the girl airily said.

"Perhaps you should." Bahorel replied through gritted teeth.

"Thank you for being on my side," the girl said with a not-so-friendly smile, "I am the Slash President of the Literary section of our club."

"The what ­- ?"

"The President said no talking!" another voice hissed as a short, blue-eyed brunette appeared.

"Sorry," the first girl – Slash President? – breezily said.

"However," the shorter one continued, "I am part of the First Aid team," she looked down at Combeferre and sighed, "Oh, I really want to…" she let the sentence trail off.

"Yes? Want to what?" Bahorel icily asked.

But suddenly, the two girls seized hold of Combeferre and began dragging him away.

"Hey!" Bahorel lunged for Combeferre, resulting in a tug-of-war of sorts. The girls were, he thought, much stronger than he had supposed. "Help!" he cried, vainly hoping that Enjolras or someone else would hear him.

And someone did.

Who should come dashing into Fan-Girl Alley but…

Bossuet!

"Bahorel!" he cried, rushing towards them, conveniently tripping and knocking into Bahorel, who lapsed into immediately concussion. The fangirls – whom the clever readers should've already guessed they were – let out a loud SQUEEEE! of victory. And suddenly, there were 3 fangirls. Bossuet blinked. 4.

5.

7.

10.

15.

"Oh…my…God…" he scrambled backwards as the fangirls multiplied, carrying Bahorel and Combeferre away. With one last, helpless, hopeless look at his two unconscious friends, he knew what he had to do.

He ran.

A/N: Again I apologize for lack of updates. Keep reviewing! And, uh, special note. If you will be amused to find yourself inside my story as a fangirl, please give me your name. First name only. And, I cannot guarantee I'll mention you, but I'll try. After a while, I have a feeling we'll be using quite a few names. I also have a special treat for you once I finish the story. Thanks!
Don't fall off the barricade!
- Lys