NOTE: If you're never mentioned in the story (though I'll try to incorporate everyone), be prepared at the end of this story. I have a few surprises for you guys after the end. That sounds weird.

A/N: This took…a while. This is a short, transitional chapter. Fangirls/guys (reviewers) will be mentioned in later chapters, and…yeah. This is a super-short chapter, just to tell you all that I'm still alive. Thanks to the reviewers, I'm kinda lazy to type all you guys out. Also thanks to my Courfeyrac/Feuilly story reviewers. O.o

"Combeferre?" Jehan's voice echoed in his head.

Combeferre opened his eyes, blinking in the glaring light.

"Combeferre?" another voice that sounded suspiciously like Marius' called.

"GET UP!" Bahorel roared, his voice jerking Combeferre back to reality.

"Wh-huh?" Combeferre squinted in the midst of the bright, white lights surrounding him, "Am I in heaven?" he asked, voice suddenly turning hysterical, "Oh god, am I dead?'

"No, you – "

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" he screamed.

"Combeferre!" Jehan yelled – which he very rarely did.

"SHUT UP!" Bahorel added, in equally dulcet tones.

"-AAAAAAAAAAA-!" came the reply.

"Combeferre, please!" Marius begged, "Or she'll come in!"

At the word 'she', there was silence.

"Who?" Combeferre whispered.

"She!" came the rather unhelpful reply.

"Who?"

"She!" Jehan repeated, wide-eyed and leaning forward.

"She?" Combeferre whispered back, leaning forward too.

"She." Jehan confirmed, leaning even more.

They continued leaning closer and closer and closer…until they were interrupted by a click, and a flash that momentarily blinded them.

"What the heck was that!" Combeferre yelped, jerking back from Jehan, keeling over backwards, nearly knocking himself out on the floor, rubbing his eyes and blinking furiously.

"I say," Marius observed, "You are blinking rather furiously."

"Yes, that's right," Bahorel rolled his eyes, "Combeferre the Furious."

"Ah," Marius nodded slowly, "Catchy."

"That's not important! Who was that?" Combeferre demanded.

"The – " Jehan's voice lowered, "Slash President!"

"The what President?" Combeferre asked.

"The Slash President!" Jehan reiterated, confused.

"What came before the 'slash'?"

"Nothing!" came the misinterpretation.

"I mean, it must be something slash President!"

"Oh, nonono!" Jehan shook his head, tsking, "I think you misunderstand me."

"I think so." Combeferre agreed.

"'Slash' is a form of relationship in FanFiction, which is (of course) usually fiction about fiction!"

"Guh-bluh?" the bespectacled boy blinked, puzzled.

"Well, from what they explained to me, FanFiction is a form of writing. A genre."

"I see…" Combeferre nodded, not really seeing at all.

"And 'slash' is a type of couple!"

"I see…" repeated Combeferre.

"It's a very…special pairing."

"Special…how?"

"It's like…well, slash is two male characters in a couple, and fem-slash is two female characters in a couple."

"Oh."

There was a pregnant pause. Not a pause that lasted 9 months, but a pause nonetheless.

"What was up with the flash of light then?" Combeferre persisted, "What does that have to do with slash?

"In fact, what was that flash?"

"We're not sure, but it's a ghastly box contraption that can somehow capture your image," Marius explained in hushed tones, "I suspect that it's some crazy invention cooked up by these crazy girls. After all, I have the vibe that they'll do anything to get to us."

"Get to us?" Combeferre looked up in dread, "Get to us…how?"

"I don't know…but they seem to be madly in love with us. Fawning over us, and…Eek!" Marius shuddered.

"Psh!" Bahorel shook his head, "Women!"

"But still," Combeferre added, "That box contraption thing. What does that have to do with slash?" his voice grew louder, "In fact, what does that have to do with us at all? Me, or Jehan?"

"Well," Marius began, "when you and Jehan leaned towards each other…you sort of…" he looked around at Bahorel for help.

"Looked like you were kissing," he finalized.

Jehan blushed.

"Wh-what? No it didn't!" Combeferre said, aghast, "Me and Jehan are just friends anyways!"

"Ah, but they don't think you were 'just friends'," Bahorel added, guiltily enjoying himself, "In fact, I suspect that they're going to use any of our suspended images on their box contraption as fodder for their Slash FanFiction."

"Oh no!" Jehan blush-gasped.

"Are you serious?" Combeferre exclaimed, jumping up in indignation.

"Fodder?" Marius dimly repeated.

"From what I understand," Bahorel continued, "They need 'inspiration' for it, and what better inspiration than real characters from books? However," he frowned, "we're not part of a book."

"They think otherwise," Marius chipped in, "Kept saying something about 'The Wretched' or something like that. With a terrible French accent."

"Well," Jehan sighed, "I certainly feel wretched."

"We can't let them do this, especially to us! I'm going to stop them and find a way out of here!" Combeferre looked around his new prison for an exit.

"No!" Bahorel growled, pulling Combeferre down, then stepping away quickly, checking for any box-contraptions around, "We don't know how many there are, or what they'll do to us."

"You know, he's right. The only thing we can do is stay close together. Agreed?" Jehan looked around.

"All right…" Combeferre and the others muttered.

With this, the four sordid revolutionaries huddled together for warmth and comfort on the cold floor, feeling slightly safer and better.

Until they were interrupted by a giggle and a flash of light.

Bahorel swore.

A/N: Reviews are MY inspiration! And uh, I hope the next chapter will be better.