"Stop! Police!" Javert dashed down the cobblestones, feeling older than he'd ever felt in his life as he chased the man who had been breaking into a home when Javert had walked up in the grey first light of morning. Javert ran and ran, chasing the man until he finally caught him on the rue Jacob. He tackled the man and managed to put heavy iron cuffs on him, to drag him to the nearest police station, and to fill out extensive paperwork whilst other officers put the man into a holding cell until the morning.
By the time Javert made it home, he was exhausted and still rather breathless, drenched in sweat and feeling disgusting. He stripped off his uniform and made a note to get it laundered and wear his spare for the next few days. He scrubbed himself with water in his wash basin in his room and put on his night shirt, and he collapsed into his bed.
Ten minutes later, he was almost lost to sleep when he heard the door to his bedroom creak open. He blinked his eyes and mumbled,
"Whassamatter?"
"It's only me, Inspector," said Éponine carefully. "I was worried; you were due back hours ago. Is everything all right?"
He rolled and faced her, and then he sat up slowly and beckoned her into the bedroom. It was a warm night, so he hadn't built up a fire, and he was using his lighter blankets. He turned up the wick on the lantern beside him, not wanting the bright light from open curtains. Éponine came over near his bed, still wearing her own nightgown, and she flashed him a shy litle smile. Javert told her seriously,
"A man was breaking into a house, and I had to catch him in a foot chase."
"Oh. That sounds exciting," Éponine observed, and Javert scowled. He shook his head.
"You've broken into houses," he said, his voice accusatory, and her cheeks reddened. She paused a moment and then said gravely,
"I never wanted to be a criminal."
"And you'll never be one again," Javert vowed on her behalf, his voice hoarse from so much shouting and running. He reached for her hand, and she seemed surprised when he took her fingers and squeezed them. She slid up onto the bed, sitting near his knees, and he found himself wanting her badly all of a sudden. She was pretty, he thought, with her dark hair in a braid over one shoulder, her face washed. She had not been very pretty when he'd first found her up against a wall. She'd been dirty and gaunt. Now she looked clean and pretty. Fresh. Like she was starting over.
She could not do it alone, he knew. She would need someone to start over with.
"We will find you a fine man to marry," he said, and Éponine smirked a bit at him. He realised he was still holding her hand, and she nodded a little as she whispered,
"All right, Inspector."
"A fine young man with a very bright future," Javert said, and then his throat went tight at the thought of Éponine with someone else. She would be held by him, by that someone else. She would be kissed by him. Javert blinked a few times and let go of her hand, and he reached for her braid. His fingers dragged over her hair, and he asked her,
"Would you like some green ribbon?"
"Green ribbon?" she repeated, confused and quiet, and he clarified,
"For your hair? It looks… so fine with green…"
"Will you take me to the shop?" Éponine asked softly, and Javert nodded, meeting her eyes.
"I'll have to use my own funds," he said. "It would be misuse of the government's money to spend it on superfluous hair ribbons. Consider it a gift from your… supervisor."
"My supervisor." Éponine covered his hand with hers on her braid, and then she just stared at him for what felt like a very, very long time. She leaned and pressed her lips to his, and Javert whispered against her mouth,
"I will not defile you."
"No. Of course not, Inspector," Éponine smiled. "You're not like Dubois."
"Who is Dubois?" Javert pulled Éponine back a little, and she shook her head very firmly, wrenching her eyes shut as she sat up.
"Sorry. Forget I said anything."
"What?" Javert's heart sank along with his stomach, and he reached for Éponine's wrist as she started to slide off the bed. Éponine whirled back with eyes full of tears and shrugged.
"He was a man in my father's inn when I was younger. He used to touch me. He never… you know, put anything inside of me. I've never been with a man in that way. I am pure."
"Pure!" Javert scoffed loudly. "That is hardly the concern in this situation. First this Dubois man as a child, then the Tappapieds up against a wall? Does your father have no concern for what his dubious so-called 'work' means for his daughter?"
"No. He does not." Éponine huffed a breath and pulled her hand from Javert's. "When I was a little girl and I told him about Dubois, he replied that Dubois was his friend and a good paying customer and therefore I must be a lying, sour little creature. My mother beat me for days about it. They never treat me well again after that, after I accused Dubois. Things were different. Before that, I was their precious little treasure. Afterward, I was a burden and they despised me."
"Éponine." Javert shut his eyes and felt sick. He remembered finding Éponine in the fog with the Tappapieds crowded around her, threatening to rape her, saying they would harm her no matter what. He had to keep her safe. He had to protect her. He opened his eyes and told her, "You need to stay here."
"That's the plan, isn't it?" Éponine shrugged, hugging herself and curling back against herself. She shook her head a little and said, "Isn't it the government's plan to keep me here until the threat of the Tappapieds has passed?"
"We've been chasing down your father's gang for years, Éponine, and we have no new information on the Tappapieds ever since we took you into protective custody," Javert informed Éponine sharply. "The police force will run out of patience and funding for you and will turn you loose on your own."
"When?" Éponine asked, and for the first time since he'd met her, she sounded genuinely fearful. Javert gulped. Earlier, at his station, he'd asked his Commissaire how long he could be expected to keep Éponine in custody. He sighed and told her,
"Three weeks on the outside."
"Three weeks?" Éponine shut her eyes and then covered them with her hands. When she spoke, her voice was low and mournful. "They'll get me. They'll… they'll find me and they'll… they'll hurt me."
"I know." Javert licked his bottom lip and said, "You must stay here as my maid."
Éponine peered through her fingers and smiled crookedly at Javert. "Stay?"
"As my maid," he said, more to himself than to her. She grinned broadly and leaned to kiss him again. This time, he held her face as she kissed him, and his tongue snaked between her lips. She tasted sweet. She tasted and smelled like rose. She'd bathed, he thought. She was sweet. Clean. New and fresh… she needed someone to start over with.
"Éponine." He groaned when her mouth moved to his neck, for that felt so good that he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. He held onto her arms as she lathed her tongue up and down the skin on the side of his neck, and he suddenly found himself very hard between his legs. It was not normal, he thought, for a man his age to go this hard this quickly. How badly he craved her! How ferociously he wanted her! He was astounded by the power of his own desire just now, by the way his body so seriously longed for hers. She was beautiful, he thought, and so young. So amiable in conversation. So strong of character.
"I do not want you as a maid," he growled as she kissed his neck harder than ever. She pulled back, her lips swollen and pearlescent from the kissing, and her face looked stricken. She was heartbroken, it seemed, until Javert caught her jaw in his hand and pressed his mouth against hers and informed her crisply,
"I want you as a wife, Éponine."
