I only own Marcy.

"Lorna!" Marceline screamed, kicking at the sheets and the skirt of her dress. She breathed heavily as she snapped back to reality, sitting upright as though her spine had become a ramrod.

She didn't expect Jean or anyone else to come to comfort her; her own room was in one of the farthest corners of the house; something that made her feel safer somehow. She quickly lit a candle, pulling out a blank-covered book, writing down her thoughts and feelings- a habit she had picked up at around ten years old.

With a sigh, she scribbled down a few lines and set the book down, deciding there wasn't much to do but try to sleep a bit more. The view outside the window told her it was nearly dawn. With an aggravated groan, she flopped back into the sheets, the resulting breeze putting out the candle.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,., Timeskip sponsored by the ABC Cafe. Vive la France! ,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

The first thing Marceline saw when she reawakened was a pair of innocent bright blue eyes.

Right. Beside. Her face.

She jumped back and stifled a surprised shriek. Cosette jumped as well before crawling into the bed.

"Aunt Marceline, who's the man in the kitchen?" Marceline rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes.

"Tha', my dear, was probably Jean. He's my brother of sorts." She explained. Cosette nodded with understanding and curled against her aunt. The brunette-ginger reached for the brush on her nightstand, first tearing it roughly through her own hair, and then, contrastingly, gently tugging it through Cosette's soft golden strands.

"I only have a few rules fer livin' with me, Cosette." She felt the nine year old tense up unwittingly. She had intended to comfort the girl; she honestly didn't care what the child did so long as she was safe and happy. She set down the brush and began to braid.
"If yeh have a problem, don't be afraid to ask for help. Jean, yer mam an' me, were here to help you. You'll never have a good reason to lie to us, so don't. An' everything we say or do is for a reason, so listen to us when we tell yeh to do something. Kay?" Cosette relaxed and nodded, leaning slightly against the grown-up and causing her to smile.

"An' remember, Cosette; we're yer family. We will always protect yeh. No matter the danger, no matter the cost."

"Did your auntie teach you that?" Marceline paused, adjusting her hold on Cosette's hair.

"My da."

"Your 'da'?"

"My father." Cosette nodded again. Marceline smiled as a long forgotten memory came to her. She tied a ribbon around the base of the braid and pulled her into her lap. "I remember back when I was abou' yer age, my da let me shoot a bow for the first time."

"You shot a bow?

"Yup. It was a bit big for me, so I missed by a mile. And the string caught my arm on the release." She layed the inside of her left forearm in front of her so Cosette could see. "I was fightin' tears when I said I wanted to try again." She chuckled.

"Aunt Marceline? Where's your daddy now?" Cosette asked. Marceline smiled, tying a bow at the end of the braid and scooped the girl up, sweeping out the door.

"Oh, he's far away in Scotland, probably still at my childhood home." Marceline smiled at the memory as she walked down the hall and into the dining room.

"Scotland?" The younger asked, "Where's that?"

"Seems like world's away sometimes. It's near England." She informed the girl, sitting her down and getting her some bacon and eggs. She noted the furrowed brow and expression of deep thought and smirked. "Tell the what, lass. If yer mam'll let me, when yer old enough, I'll take the there. Yer mam an' Jean, too."

"Really?" Cosette listened in awe.

"Really really. I'll even take yeh to the house where I grew up. It'll be a load a' fun." Cosette took a bite of eggs and smiled.

"Wha' wo' we do 'dere?" Marcy put a finger over Cosette's lips and laughed as the girl swallowed.

"Lots of things. Swimmin', ridin' horseback out in the forest. Heck, if yer mam's okay with it, I can even teach yeh to shoot."

"Who's being taught to shoot?" Asked a voice from the door. They both turned to see Fantine standing in the doorway, tired and smirking. Marceline patted the chair beside her and the older blonde took it gratefully. The brunette placed some food on Fantine's plate as Cosette smiled eagerly at her mom.

"Mama, Aunt Marceline's gonna take me to Scotland and teach me to shoot a bow!" Cosette informed her mother happily. Said mother arched her brow at the woman.

"Oh is she?" Marceline blushed and smiled sheepishly.

"Well, no' fer a while, if at all. Ah juss thought it'd be somethin' nice we could do, if yeh were willin'" she amended. Cosette frowned and Fantine paused, cocking her head for a moment as if to think, before smiling knowingly.

"I suppose I don't see the harm, so long as she's got a competent teacher." Cosette's expression brightened a bit.

"It'd be a few years, though. Jean's gotten himself seen, so we'll have to wait until there's less of a chance anyone'll recognize 'im." Marcy pointed out. As if on cue, Jean entered the room and sat across from Marceline.

"Morning, all." He greeted shortly, piling three eggs and the remaining bacon onto his plate.

"Good morning yourself, bottomless pit." Marceline jabbed. He glared at her playfully and dug in. Marcy rolled her eyes at him and placed some egg on a bit of toast. The others followed suit, the blondes downing the food like they were starving. Though they probably were, Marcy reminded herself.

When breakfast was over and Jean and Cosette were properly introduced, the new family tried to busy themselves, but found it rather difficult. Jean, having been exposed, could no longer work. He settled into a chair in the lounge to read a book. Fantine no longer had to work, having Cosette and herself well taken care of. Cosette, free of her oppressors and now in a larger and far more beautiful house, ran from room to room explore her new home.

Fantine decided to explore as well, though in a far more quiet and polite manner than her child. As she moved silently from room to room, she noted the large amount of plants. At least three in each room, all of them large and healthy and beautiful.

Through her exploration, she discovered a room painted a beautiful emerald green and filled from floor to ceiling with plants. Flowers and leafy bushes covered three of the walls, a fourth was made purely of glass from the hip up, a set of doors opening onto a rear balcony. Said balcony hung over a small rear lawn which was surrounded by a five-foot tall stone fence.

Fantine could tell the flowers meant a lot to her new housemate. She sat quietly at a small two-person patio table and picked up a book on botany. After attempting to read the first paragraph, she quickly set it down and pulled forward a smaller leather-bound book. There was no title, only a gold-leaf imprint of a small bouquet of flowers.

"I see yeh found my green room." Fantine jumped and dropped the book back to the table, turning to see Marceline at the door, holding a tea tray and admiring her handiwork.

"You mean you grew all this yourself?" Fantine asked disbelievingly.

"Tha' I did. And I'm damn proud of it, too." She strode over and set the tray on the small table before picking up a watering can and moving to several potted sunflowers that faced the window.

"It's beautiful." The blue-eyed woman commented. A smile tugged at the corner of Marcy's mouth as she moved to a window box filled with bachelors buttons.

"Thank yeh." She said simply, stroking the colourful leaves of a colieus plant. "It's my pride an' joy, this room. At least, here it is." Fantine perked up at this And Marceline chuckled.

"Yeh should see the green house I got back in Scotland. Three times the size a' this room. Four times the variety a' plants. My da has connections, y'see. Friends in the trading business. He'd get me seeds from all over the world. Black snakeroot an' buttercups from Russia, Chinese ground orchids. He always got exactly what I wanted." Marceline smiled at the fond memory.

"Your father sounds very kind"

"Tha's juss th' tip a' the iceberg. See, my da was one of the bess' liked people in town. An' fer good reason. He was selfless, an' 'e juss loved life. Yeh could not a friendlier man find." Marceline let out a sigh and sat in the open chair, her smile fading. "I guess tha's why it was so hard to leave."

"How long has it been?"

"I dun kneh. Four, five years?" Fantine frowned. "My ma called me here when she go' sick. Died three years ago, four months before I found out I was with child." Though they'd begun to well, Marceline did not let the tears fall. Fantine saw this and moved her chair to sit beside the brunette. As she did so, she wrapped her arms around the French-Scot, carefully avoiding the wilting flowers in her hand.

Sorry it took so long to post today! I wanted to make sure I finally got in a longer chapter. As always, thanks to all who reviewed, faved, and faithfully follow this story! Much love!

On a side note, I'm considering writing a one shot for Javert. Sort of a mini-redemption for our least-favourite-inspector-who-for-some-reason-I-ca n't-totally-dislike. I dunno. Would you guys be interested in reading something like that? Lemme know!