A/N: I love you all so much for being patient, ;). Ta-dah!
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"You let Bahorel and Combeferre get kidnapped?" Enjolras slowly said to Bossuet, a menacing note in his voice.

"Uh, well...um…" the poor revolutionary backed up, shrinking under the gaze of his leader.

"HOW COULD YOU LET THEM GET KIDNAPPED!" he roared, hair a mess, and spit flying everywhere as his eyes began to glow a dangerous blue.

"I must say Enjolras, you look not in the least attractive when you do that," a drunken Grantaire commented casually. Well, I suppose anyone would have to be drunk to say something like that to Enjolras, but…never mind.

"I wasn't talking to you, Wine-cask!" came the screechy reply.

"All right, all right!" shrugged Grantaire, "No need to be so touchy about it."

"I'M NOT BEING TOUCHY ABOUT IT!"

"You really shouldn't bottle up your anger like that, you know," Grantaire continued.

Courfeyrac snorted, and everyone turned towards him.

"What now, Monsieur de Courfeyrac?" Enjolras said through gritted teeth.

"It's Courfeyrac, Monsieur de Enjolras," Courfeyrac huffily replied, insulted, "And it was just a nice pun on R's part."

A pause. A pause not so pregnant as the one in the last chapter, but still a pause.

"What…?" the blonde revolutionary twitched, raising an eyebrow in warning.

"Oh, you know…" Courfeyrac shrugged, ignoring this omen of doom, "R said 'don't bottle up your anger'. I just thought that was amusing, seeing as he already has a hard time keeping anything in a bottle in the first place."

"Oh shut up!" Grantaire sulked, throwing a bottle at Courfeyrac that narrowly missed his head.

"Ahaha, you missed!"

"Only because I wanted it to."

A rather menacing silence began to take place as the Les Amis began to quietly loathe each other. Enjolras was absolutely disgusted by Bossuet's unsatisfactory behavior, and Bossuet rather terrified and upset; Grantaire terribly upset by Courfeyrac's bluntness, and Courfeyrac himself put off by Grantaire's sudden sensitivity.

"Wait! Wait!" Feuilly suddenly said, and each head in the room turned to him, "Don't you understand? The Fangirls want this to happen! They want us in discord and hating each other, don't you see?" his tone turned desperate, "Already four of my closest friends have been kidnapped by a group of lunatic girls, and I don't want that to happen again! Why, I'd sacrifice myself to get them all back! Please, mon amis, try to cooperate and understand what I mean. We can't let them prey on us slowly like this! We've got to fight back! And the only way we can fight back is to work together, in harmony, in unison, like a team, and like the amis we are!"

A silence followed this moving speech, and everyone noted Joly's eyes beginning to water.

"I can't hold it in anymore, everyone!" Joly said, rubbing his nose furiously.

"Oh, Joly, it's okay. It takes a real man to cry!" Feuilly said, trying to comfort him.

"No, it's not that…it's…ah…ah…AH-CHOOOOO!"

Everyone looked bewildered for a minute. Clearly, everyone's minds were on the wrong track. They returned to hating each other.

"I give up!" Feuilly exasperatedly said, stomping out the room.

"And where are you going?" Enjolras hollered, wrath astonishing.

"TO MY FANS!"

"WHAT!" Enjolras shrieked, letting go of Grantaire, "W-wait! You're going where? Feuilly, stop!"

Feuilly growled at the back of his throat. He wasn't going to take any of Enjolras' stupid propaganda crap anymore, "If they're all just going to ignore my advice, be fools, and let themselves be kidnapped – then fine! I'll let them! I'm just going to go on with my life – it's hard enough as it is!" he furiously set down the road – he had fans to deliver.

And oh boy, fans he would get.

"Wait, Feuilly!" Enjolras took off from the room, the other Amis following him cautiously and (in Grantaire's case) drunkenly.

Feuilly checked the address in his pocket, making sure he was heading the right direction. "Ship 10 flowered fans to a Miss Lira and a Miss Chantal – meet us at Fan-Girl Alley, 2:00," the fan-maker paused, "Huh. Why does that name sound so familiar?" he shrugged and went along with his course, frustration at his friends driving his legs faster.

"No, Feuilly!" Enjolras recognized the path his friend was taking. And he was afraid. More afraid than he'd ever been in his life. "Stop! Please!"

"Go away, Enjolras!" Feuilly did not want to be late for his appointment – this was a job, after all. Sure enough, up ahead, were two innocent looking girls, grinning at the sight of him. "Here are your fans, mademoiselles," Feuilly the Fan-Maker said.

"Merci, Monsieur Feuilly!" the two girls chorused, giggling.

"You're welcome, but um…how did you know my name?" he said, slightly uncertain and nervous.

"Oh, let's just say we're fans," Chantal grinned evilly.

"Real big fans," Lira added, grinning just as creepily.

"Right, well…I'd best be going, I've got a lot to do, and I - "

"What? Oh no!" Chantal gasped, "You can't leave! Not just yet!"

"The fun's just about to begin!" agreed Lira.

"Wh-what do you mean? I've gotta go, I really do." Feuilly started backing up, slightly put-off by the looks on their face.

"FEUILLY! RUN! THEY'RE FAN-GIRLS!" Enjolras screamed.

Feuilly turned around quickly, alarmed, "They're what?"

And that's the last thing he heard, other than a big THUMP as his world turned black.
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A/N: God, that was short, wasn't it? I'm real sorry, y'all, for not updating sooner. I've been a) terribly lazy, and b) terribly busy.