When Writers Go Bad: Chapter Thirteen

A.N.: I must, most respectfully, dedicate this chapter to Elyse3. All of you who are praising my work (my work and praise? That's an oxy moron if I ever heard one): Have you read her stuff? Quite excellent work, and I implore you to read it. This is sort of in response to her desire to see Percy take a wee bit of anger out on poor Citoyen Chauvelin. At first, as far as I'd figured, the only thing I'd thought up of Percy being upset at Chauvelin for was from the "Fluff Dust Fiasco," of Marguerite hanging off of his arm and all that. But then, I had enough guys who's wives were inadvertently stolen away, so I had to sick him on Cosette. Elyse's idea appealed to me so much, that I just had to rack my brains for something. The following chapter includes what I came up with. I'm not sure if it's what she intended. Hell, I'm not even sure if it's what I intended, but here it is, all the same bows Enjoy!

Shadow had discovered the problem with the anti-fluff dust, it being that it wasn't even anti-fluff dust at all. The bunnies had needed the bag to weigh more for their game, so they carefully dumped the dust into a jar and replaced it with flour. They still had the jar, and Shadow had greedily snatched up, cackling in a term that can only be described as "Mad genius."

Cosette was fully restored to normal, clinging to Marius every chance she got. Erik was pouting again. Marguerite was, for the most part, her normal self, but was very tipsy, and, occasionally, her eyes kept snapping in Chauvelin's direction. Percy was no longer pinning for Cosette, and was doing his best to remind Marguerite that they were married and loved each other very much. Christine, however, was still a problem; they'd given her what was left, but it hadn't been much. She occasionally would smile at Raoul, hold his hand, give him a tiny, chaste kiss, but she could more often than not be found with her arms around Javert. The inspector had been implored to simply put up with it for now; Shadow promised she'd fix it as soon as she could. Another cynic bunny was due to spontaneously combust any day now. Until then, he'd simply have to exhibit patience, and maybe indulge her a bit. Javert reluctantly indulged as much as he ever did, and constantly scowled.

However, after a few days, the cynic bunny still had not exploded. Shadow needed someone she knew she could trust to play chaperone until the matter was solved.

…

"Me?" asked Sir Percy, surprised.

"Please, sir," Shadow begged. "You have no idea how much respect I have for you, and how much this means to me! I have too much to do here to follow them everywhere. I don't trust Lita, and Ellen would screw it up somehow!"

"Mamzelle, I'm flattered, but I hardly think-"

Providence struck Shadow with an idea. "Do this for me and I'll let you see The Crystal Globe!" (A.N: cough Cliché cough cough)

"The what?"

"It's this ball Emily has hidden in one of the cellars. I can help you see your home and how it's doing without you! Please, please, please! I could get in so much trouble if she knew I'd let you see it, so you know it's a fair trade!"

Percy sighed. Well, he'd been rather bored with the inactivity of the past week, so he might as well be doing something.

"Fine," he agreed with a shrug. Shadow threw her arms around him, in ecstasies.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you so much! You have no idea what a help this is!"

…

For the past three days, everyone had been stuck inside; Rain. Water was over flowing in the gutters, the fountain was filled to the brim. Huge puddles were filling up every which way.

The castle needed a good airing out, and Shadow needed the characters out of the way. "Ellen, take some of them on a walk through the garden, okay?"

Ellen shrugged; she'd been driving everyone nuts lately. "Okay, but who should I take?"

"I don't care!" she cried, randomly pulling a couple of them and shoving them in Ellen's direction. "Just get them out of here, or I'll loose my mind!"

"Did you ever have it?" asked Lita, but she was ignored.

The make shift party consisted of Javert (Christine was locked in doors to keep her from following), Eric, and everyone from 1792. They were promptly herded out the door, and into the damp garden.

The garden was very lush, with rhododendrons starting to bloom, and climbing into very thick foliage, resembling something of a "rhododendron tree monster," and rivaling Sir Percy for height. And so, they walked, and walked, and Eric kept on looking nervously over his shoulder.

"Lud, man, what on earth is the matter?" Sir Percy finally asked, his arm linked with Marguerite's.

"I keep on thinking I hear someone following us," he grumbled, pausing to look in a flowering bush.

"It's probably just a rabbit," Marguerite said, brushing it off. It was at that moment when the party heard the sound of a gun going off. A cartridge of fluff dust found it's target right at the back of Marguerite's head, which knocked her straight into Chauvelin, who toppled to the ground. Javert was already running in the direction the sound had come from, as was Sir Percy, and Ellen was trying to keep up. Realizing what that cartridge was, Eric knew he wanted to be no where near a love struck woman when she woke up, for fear of her six foot something husband. He quickly dashed into the brush after the other three.

And that left Chauvelin with Marguerite, the former having a rather large lump on his head for smacking into the pavement. Thusly it took him a few moments to understand what had just happened, and to take in his surroundings. Actually, his surroundings were Marguerite, who had glued herself to him, rather large, fake looking pink hearts stuck in her eyes.

"How can you even see anything like that?" he grumbled, trying to pry her off. Naturally, it did nothing, as she was even worse than she had been in the fluff dust storage room.

And because luck seemed to hate him, Sir Percy, breathless from the run was the first to return. "Well," he began, "they got away, but the Inspector's still-" He paused mid-sentence, and sort of had a tic in his cheek at the rather suggestive image in front of him.

"Um…I know what this looks like, but I can explain!" the agent hurriedly began.

THWACK!

…

Lita sat sprawled on a chair, reading up on "The Care and Keeping of Dragons," when the door burst open. Ellen waltzed in, followed by Javert and Eric, who were followed by "those nut jobs from 1792." Chauvelin was stalking in front of Sir Percy, one hand over an eye that was quickly turning black. Behind him stomped Percy, carrying Marguerite. All three were scowling for various reasons: Chauvelin had a black eye, Marguerite did not want to be carried, and Percy was simply having an off week, romance wise. She watched this odd parade absolutely silently, glancing up from the book.

They passed Raoul and Marius, who where engaged in a game of checkers. "What on earth happened to you?" the later asked, and Chauvelin delivered some choice obscenities not fit for repetition.

Lita sighed, shook her head, and called simply "Shadow, get the bandages!"

To Be Continued….