Shora: Hi again! I'm writing the second chapter. I hope this one wont be a miserable failure. I just finished reading the book…my god…Javert was awesome! He was a catty, sarcastic, egotistical bastard, but he was hot! Ummm…anyway…I hope 'yall like this here chapter…remember…Feed The Authors!

Ever since that night, Javert couldn't look at 24601 without blushing. He also had more vivid dreams every night. They first were blurry, the only thing that he could recall was the touch of lips against his, and a fluttery feeling in his stomach. He woke up, groggy, but with a shadow of the flutter in his lower belly. They continued like that for some time, until the hands touched him. In his dream he jumped, and apparently, he also jumped in real life, because one of his subordinates asked him what scared him last night. Then he heard the breathing in his dreams, it started out as steady deep breaths, then as the hands were introduced, then the lips on top of that, then the breath came shallower, and quicker and the feeling in his stomach spread until he knew himself to be kissing back in the dream-realm, his own hands roaming over the broad shoulders, the scar-traced back, entangling his fingers into the long, stringy hair, tasting the mystery person. Then he brought his hands forward and ran his hand down the neck, then to the chest, where his sensitive fingertips brushed against a brand. He jolted up in his sleep. His breathing was heavy from a mix of desire and fear…he ran his hands through his hair as he stepped out of his bed and across his cold wooden (1) room.

He paced. As he let himself calm down. Then it all made since. He glanced over to his window and wanted to see stars, for they reassured him. He didn't know why, they always have. But he didn't see stars. He saw the first few locks of dawn, seeing as she was just raising her beautiful, yet cruel head. He sighed, weary to his bones, and walked over to his trunk and pulled out his pants, pulled them on. He slipped his feet into his boots as he fastened his revolver and baton on the loops of his belt. He pulled on his shirt, and tucked the tails into his pants, then, leaving his shirt unbuttoned, fastened his belt, and was just reaching for the top button of his shirt, when he heard the alarm sound. It was the alarm for an escaping convict.

He ran out into the deck (2), his shirt completely open, and ran after the retreating figure in red.

"STOP!"

He knew that his command was to be ignored. The man was about to jump overboard, when our precious warden saw his chance. He took his baton, and brought it into contact with the man's ribs. Above the cry of pain and the crunch of wood, he heard bones snap. The man crumpled to a heap. Javert stood there, bent nearly double, hands on his knees, breathing heavy twice that day. The red heap at his feet rolled over, and he felt his face screw into an expression of shock. 24601 glared up at him, his gray eyes full of hatred. There was a trail of blood coming out of his mouth from when he fell. Javert saw his eyes sweep his body as the rest of the guards arrived. "Take him to my office." Javert panted. Then he stood up, pushed his hair back off of his face and started to button his shirt as he walked calmly toward his office. When he got there, 24601 were shirtless, getting treated by the prisons resident doctor. He averted his eyes as he walked around to the back of his desk, sitting down in his chair, not using the backrest because of the tension in his body.

"24601," he began, "I do not even need to know why you attempted to escape, or how, or what you intended to do once you got out of prison, but you are going to be punished. You will receive four days off from your duties, to rest and to heal-" at that point he was interrupted by the doctor.

"Monsieur The Warden. He will need a good two weeks. You broke three of his ribs."

Javert glared daggers at the doctor, who "eeped" and started to pack his supplies.

"Fine…a week. But then you will do double duty. And four years will be added to your sentence." When he said that, the silent statue in front of him broke.

"Fours years! But I have to get back to my sister! And my nieces and nephews. How are they to feed themselves!"

"Then you should have though of that before you tried to run. And when your ribs are healed, then I will consider wither you have been given enough punishment."

"Punishment!" The convict roared as he jumped out of his seat. "You have added four years to my life in hell!"

Javert leaped up. "Do you want me to make it 10? SIT DOWN!" His hand went to his baton and 24601's resolve faltered.

"Doctor, take this man back to his cell." Without faltering Javert followed them as the door closed. He then collapsed into his chair, back slumped, head in his hands. I need a vacation.

1: Wooden, because the prison was really a ship…

2: Again, the ship…