September brought around a fall breeze that swept in the season of overcoats and school boys. The University of Paris flooded with young men returning for another year of schooling after a summer of freedom. Changes came with the shift of season. The summer had not been without intellectual talks or debates but it had rid them of their textbooks, papers and examinations. Now academia reeled them in once again, forcing them to focus in on their professors and the three hours lectures inside the stone walls of the university. Of all these young men, Enjolras regretted his decision to return more than anyone.

He had spent the summer with the other ABC boys talking of revolution and a world where the bourgeois aristocracy would no longer exist. They dreamed of a world where men were equal and not squashed beneath the men who ruled. Enjolras had riled them up and convinced them that they could not become cruel men like their fathers before them. Like a great wind from the East he had raised the ABC boys up into a stupor with his shouts of revolution and a France where all men could be seen as equal. He wanted to help those who would be seen as below him and raise them up from the holes which they existed in. His education had opened his eyes to the world of sin that those above had created for those below. He was privileged enough to learn of their struggles but live far enough outside their realm to be able to speak about revolution as if it was the easy option.

But September didn't bring about red flags or wooden barricades, it brought fencing duels on the quad and luncheons in the dining hall. His friends began to talk more about the girls who met them after class than the plans to unite the people of France in a revolution. It was as if their summer plans had been but a day dream and they had been woken up by the call of new classes and professors who promised them higher education. Some men regarded the halls of the university as the place where they had built their true knowledge but Enjolras knew he had learnt more among the people in the past four months than he had in the past four years in these hallowed halls.

"Enjolas, come on, we're going to take the girls for lunch." Joly was one of the youngest of the group and he was certainly the most optimistic. He had been the first to fall easily back into the routine of flirting with women and pretending to read his textbooks. His heart was as light as a feather and his step seemed to be so as well. The smile that often fell upon his lips was absolutely infectious but Enjolras was hard to tempt and then invitation wasn't one he cared for in that moment.

"You lot go without me." Enjolras shook his head, stepping sideways on the path to separate himself from the group. His eyes glanced past Joly to notice the group of girls that waited for them with the other boys. There was nothing wrong with any of these women, some were more tolerable than others but none of the girls that the boys seemed to bring about were terribly shallow or obnoxiously ignorant. He had had a boat full of conversations within their numbers that he deemed to be intellectual and enjoyable but today his spirits wouldn't be lifted by even intelligent conversation with women. He knew he would have to listen to the rumble of flirtatious laughter and trivial topics that the other boys might try to entertain the girls with and he simply wasn't in the mood.

"Are you two coming or not?" the blonde amongst the group called with a tilt of her head. Laurel's eyes fell upon Enjolras, knowing he was the cause for the delay. Laurel would have been an Enjolras herself had she been born a male but her female disposition made her

choose different roots to revolution. She wouldn't be stockpiling ammunition of practicing her aim anytime soon but she had a quick tongue and was very good at reading people.

"Not today." Enjolras shook his head, patting Joly on the shoulder before he stepped off the path, heading towards the library where he hoped to clear his head in a quiet place. Joly watched him with a sigh, unhappy that he couldn't infuse his friend with the lightness that flowed through his own veins. Enjolras was a much older soul than he should have been at twenty six, even some of the older men had a younger spirit than him and they allowed themselves to enjoy in trivial events like luncheons such at these.

"I'm sure he'll come around later." Joly said with a sweet smile as he stepped up to the group and held his arm out to one of the girls. Liette took Joly's arm without protest but he gaze went to the back of the missing ABC leader who had left them. Liette had known Enjolras before most of the group but their friendship had been torn apart with distance until Liette's family had recently moved back to Paris. She had spent the summer trying to rekindle that bond that they had had in adolescence but Enjolras fell in and out with her like the tide. He swept in for friendship and then pulled away with the memory of the cause he yearned to fight for. He was a man torn between his own enjoyment and the life he thought he needed to lead as a revolutionary. The revolution had not yet come and still Enjolras lived as if it was just about to sweep him off his feet.

"So, where would you girls like to go?" Prouvaire asked, his arm linked with the third of the four girls as he stood closely with her. His eyes cast to Adelaide who was smiling, happy to have an arm to link onto. She could have had her pick from the lot but Prouvaire was ever the romantic and had swept in and stolen her with compliments before any of the others could. The boys outnumbered the girls today but that would not stop them from enjoying their company. None of them were proper suitors at this point, even Prouvaire was just a doting school boy with a flirtatious nature about him. Regardless, the girls had been their friends for several years now and therefore their company was always welcomed. They were not permitted to attend school and as unmarried women they did not have households or children to attend to so they had plenty of time to meet the boys on the quad and join them for a lunch or a game between classes.

"How about Les Rillettes?" Laurel asked as she stepped forward to lace her arms in with Combeferre and Bahorel. Just because there were six boys and only four girls did not mean that two of them had to go without attention. Laurel was known for not having the patience for any one of the boys for too long and yet most of them adored her. The girl existed in pure confidence of herself and therefore attracted the focus of many of the boys on every occasion. She considered all of them her dear friends but she also looked at many of them as if they were simply her brothers. "It's only ten minutes from here."

"They sell a fantastic brandy." Grantaire grinned, his mind always wandering to the same thing. He was an unlikely student but as Enjolras' closest companion it had been impossible for him to not fall in line and join the educated. Grantaire's entire existence among the ABC boys was contingent on Enjolras but he did not follow the man blindly. He was skeptical of the entire idea of revolution and was sure that such a drastic act would lose him the privilege of taking pretty women to lunch and everything else he truly enjoyed in life.

"Les Rillette it is then." Joly nodded in agreement "Should I run and tell Enjolras incase he changes his mind?" his head turned towards the direction Enjolras had fled to but his gaze came back to the group as Grantaire's voice caught his attention.

"Leave the fool, he won't come anyway." Grantaire shook his head knowingly as he quickly stole the one girl who had not been claimed. "Besides, Daveney looks famished, we mustn't let her go hungry for one more moment or she'll surely eat one of us alive."

"I think this fool is just dying to quench his thirst for brandy." Daveney pulled away teasingly and took Courfeyrac's arm instead. Courfeyrac happily took her in, amused to have taken a girl from Grantaire who now stood alone in the group. "Well then Grantaire, why don't you lead?" Daveney suggested, a bit of quip coming out of her as she stood strongly against him. Grantaire had been bold to tease the proudest member of the group of four. Daveney wasn't the type to sink into shadows and go down without a fight but she hadn't truthfully taken offense to Grantaire's comment. She would have driven herself mad by now had she taken every word he said to her as truthful thought. Grantaire liked to tease and he liked to tease her a bit more than most.

"Shall I grab my rifle and wave a flag above my head?" Grantaire jumped forward, not minding the silly game that Daveney had presented to him. In fact, it suited him and he fell into his role almost too easily. "Vive la France!" he shouted in a mocking nature, attracting the stares of the other students littering the quad. Grantaire only wished Enjolras hadn't been inside, maybe seeing this the man would realize how foolish he looked half of the time. They were just school boys, they should be enjoying themselves and acting like morons instead of planning some governmental upheaval. At least that was how Grantaire saw it.

"I fail to comprehend why you mock him so much." Liette's voice was low but strong. She had also known Grantaire from her childhood but her friendship with him was limited. Liette had always been a woman fond of logic and intellectual conversation which was why she was drawn to Enjolras and not Grantaire. Enjolras didn't care for foolishness but his passion made him rash and that difference between him and Liette made their relationship somewhat of a cautionary tale. Still, Liette could respect that Enjolras' passion had a level of reason and purpose to it whereas men like Grantaire acted with indignation for mere amusement and with little cause. Grantaire's excessive drinking and overindulgence made him an unlikely friend for a girl like Liette. "He just cares that people are suffering and we're still going to lunch, that's all." she understood Enjolras more than most despite the fact that she bickered with him almost as much as Grantaire did.

"Liette, we care as well but we all have to eat." Combeferre responded, not giving Grantaire the time to get in trouble with the girls. Although the others were not as distant with Grantaire as Liette, they would all defend their friend if he turned on her. "Besides, Enjolras has just given up a splendid lunch with the four of you lovely ladies for the pages of textbooks that he knows won't help him." his compliment was not lost on Liette and his kindness caused her to drop the argument with a sigh, her dark eyes going to the ground as she became consumed in thought.

"Grantaire's just teasing anyway," Adelaide chimed in as she walked with Prouvaire, her heeled boots clicking against the pavement as she sunk into the middle of the group. The parade of school boys and the four lovely ladies drew attention from the surrounding students and

Adelaide enjoyed that. The bourgeoisie lifestyle unfortunately suited Adelaide more than any of the boys would have liked. Still, they said nothing of it because the one time someone had they had almost lost the girls as friends forever. No one was without their flaws, Adelaide's taste for jewels and flashy ballrooms just happened to be her own but it couldn't be considered a worse vice than Grantaire's drinking or even Joly's gullible nature.

"Yes, everyone knows how much Grantaire loves Enjolras." Courfeyrac's lips curled into a smirk, waiting for the glare he'd get from Grantaire but surprisingly the leader of their company continued to walk on, not bothered by the teasing behind him. Courfeyrac's smirk faded for a moment, unhappy that his teasing had not elicited a fighting response. "Maybe that's it, maybe they're lovers and Enjolras didn't come to lunch because he's afraid we'll figure it out if they spend time together." the group took in Courfeyrac's joke with a laugh but Grantaire wasn't so kind. He snapped around, bothered by that comment but not quick enough to get the first word in.

"No need to sound so jealous Courfeyrac, I love you just as much as Grantaire." Enjolras hadn't made it past the library doors before he regretted distancing himself from his friends. He knew that if he sunk away into books and quiet corners he would lose them completely. This wasn't an option for him. One luncheon would not extinguish the flames of an upcoming revolution, in fact Enjolras figured it might be the way to grab their attention once more.

"I told you he'd come around." Joly grinned, happy that his positivistic mood was rightly placed. He had always ignored the other men when they jested him for being a ray of sunshine and that was because he enjoyed the feeling when his optimistic predictions ended up being right. Enjolras's hand patted his shoulder once more as he stepped in pace with Joly, not unaware of the smile Liette was casting him from the other side.

"So where are we going?"
"Les Rillettes," Laurel answered from behind Enjolras.
"I've heard they sell a fine brandy." the group chuckled at Enjolras' statement, enjoying

the mirrored image of Grantaire on his very different friend. The men were opposites in many ways but sometimes there was suspicion that their minds were a bit more connected than either of them would like to admit. "Is something funny?"

"Something is always funny. You just need to laugh more!" Daveney called back, her eyes watching Grantaire as he chuckled to himself about Enjolras. Despite the teasing, Courfeyrac had been right about Grantaire loving Enjolras, at least in the way that brothers love each other. They may as well have been born family members because they fought and acted like brothers all the time. Their souls were connected by a bridge of friendship that could not be burned by Grantaire's skepticism or Enjolras' impatience.

The group was quite the image to look at but here in the richer side of town they were simply another group of fancily free young adults who had time to discuss philosophy because they weren't breaking their backs working. Their privilege was painfully obvious as they strolled through the streets of Paris with pretty girls with rich frocks and paled cheeks. In this moment it was impossible to picture any of them laying down their lives for a struggle they had never lived. Only one of the boys had ever truly worked and that was Feuilly. His company was often sparse in the group because he spent the days in the factory, only coming to meetings at nights. He had never showed his face at one of these luncheons and he was practically a myth to the girls who

had never actually had the chance to meet him. Feuilly was the face amongst the men that actually brought experience to their cause and was able to guide them through what life was really like for the poor. He pulled away whenever they tried to show him charity so they had long forgotten trying to dress him up as if he was one of them. If only he could see them all now, he would be ashamed to see his friends being just like the men and women they positioned themselves against.

"A table for eleven." Grantaire announced clearly as he approached the hostess of the restaurant. Normally groups this size would have made a reservation but restaurants around the university were used to school boys coming through their doors in hoards, hungry and eager to sit down to discuss their latest breakthroughs. The hostess didn't bat an eyelash at Grantaire's request, instead she turned back to call to one of the waiters, asking him to set up the table.

The world moved for them as if it revolved around them and there was no doubt that each man saw the problem in it. You didn't have to be Enjolras to realize that being waited on this way was problematic, especially when they had friends working at this hour. It wasn't that there was something wrong with this lifestyle per say it was more so the fact that this kind of welcoming wasn't available for all people. Their revolution wasn't meant to destroy the ease and convenience of the life they lived but rather it was meant to raise everyone up to this level of comfort. It would be foolish to strive to beat down the aristocracy until everyone was poor, that would only add to the problem. The people just needed to be able to support themselves and every once in a while everyone should be entitled to a lunch like this.

Chaste white table cloths were thrown over the three tables that would hold their group. Some of the men fell back, allowing the girls to be escorted to their seats by just one man each. Courfeyrac led Daveney first, pulling out her chair and smirking the entire time. He was a handsome man and he was not without female attention but his handsomeness was just a biological trait whereas his competitive nature had been bred in him. Courfeyrac liked to believe that he already had Daveney wrapped around his finger but that couldn't be further from the truth. Daveney considered herself a girl who didn't experience the sensation of butterflies and was not prone to blushing. She took her seat and thanked Courgeyrac politely as she hid the bit of distaste that was boiling inside of her. Courfeyrac was a fine man but any man who allowed his arrogance and ego to enlarge his head was not the type to hold Daveney's attention.

The other men followed in suit, Bahorel taking Laurel, Prouvaire with Adelaide and Joly with Liette. Once the ladies were seated the men pulled out their own chairs and joined them at the table. Unlike the nights in the study above the inn on Rue de Villette there was a formality here among friends that hadn't existed in the summer. They knew their place in society even if they wanted to break from it. Sitting at the head of the table, Enjolras felt his muscles tense and his back straighten as he remembered why he hadn't wanted to come to his lunch in the first place. A violin played in the background as he heard the muddled talk of the other bourgeoisie pets in the lunch room. The words diamonds and gold hit Enjolras' ears like arrows, making him wish he was back within the quiet stacks of the university library.

"Enjolras." Liette called his name, snapping him out of the trance he had fallen into as she passed him a menu. Enjolras looked like a startled child as his head snapped up and he returned to their moment. He looked around the table before he glanced to his right, taking the menu from Liette's outstretched hands.

"Merci." he responded his eyes meeting hers for just a split second before he hid his thoughts in the menu in his grasp. His eyes saw the letters of the words before him but he wasn't really looking at them. He could feel Liette's eyes lingering on him, trying to read what he was thinking but he refused to give her any inclination with a gesture or a look. Soon enough her gaze was torn away by the expected gossip of the table.

"So when is the first fencing tournament?" Adelaide asked, her gaze shifting between the two men who sat beside her. Adelaide had once described it as a young woman's burden to be a beautiful girl surrounded by handsome school boys and she felt that burden now. Every man at this table was a suitable choice, even Enjolras and his melancholy, but choosing which man to focus on was much harder. Adelaide wasn't as good at juggling men as Laurel was and therefore she was left to make her choice. On any different day her idea of which one she might want to marry shifted and today she was finding it rather difficult to choose between Prouvaire and Bahorel.

To her right, Prouvaire seemed to be watching her but not truly listening. His eyes stared at her lips and how they curved into a smile when someone made her laugh. His hand clenched slightly, wishing he was holding hers beneath the table. He was a handsome boy and at twenty three years old he was exactly Adelaide's age but she knew that Prouvaire's attention was often fleeting and that he had looked at other girls with such desire before. Adelaide refused to be shared which was why her own gaze seemed to focus back over to her other companion.

Bahorel had always looked older than he was. He had a long face that was aged with dark eyes and a hard brow. He was not as much of a pretty boy as Prouvaire and that had everything to do with his peasant upbringing. Bahorel had once lived the life of a starving had lost his family to disease and famine but thankfully had been found my a wealthy widow before he starved to death on the streets. He knew first hand that there were other people like his friends, people who hated that there was a world of people living in squalor beneath their feet. The woman had raised him as her own and made him a societal man. With such an upbringing it was no surprise that Bahorel always treated their female friends with the utmost respect and today he hung onto Adelaide's words as if they were spun of gold.

"Not for a while, classes have just begun." Enjolras answered, his head still stuck in his menu.

"But matches begin next week." Combeferre corrected quickly, catching Enjolras' misinformation with a knowing smile. Despite their new change in scenery and the change in topic this conversation reflected many that had happened over the summer. Enjolras liked to lead a conversation and Combeferre was always there to correct him and put him on the right path when he was wrong. Dates of fencing tournaments or matches were highly trivial in comparison to talks about rifles and barricades but it was still something to be corrected in Combeferre's eyes. "You girls will come watch, won't you?" he asked, looking over to his right at Laurel.

"Well of course!" Laurel smiled, placing her gloved hand atop of Combeferre's on the table. "My bets are on your this year." she added playfully. He was a foolish man to let such light touch spin his stomach and yet he couldn't help it. In his head he tried to tell himself it was just a natural bodily reaction, something he couldn't control and yet his heart knew he was a fool. As a medical student, Combeferre often tried to cut things down into biological terms but no matter how many textbooks he had read about bodily attraction and arousal, none of them explained the

sort of stillness he felt around Laurel. It was completely counterintuitive considering that Laurel was one of those women who was almost always on the go and yet Combeferre felt the world spin a little slower with her about.

"Grantaire will you stay sober enough to compete?" Daveney looked down the table with a grin.

Grantaire placed his hands on the hardwood and came out of his seat a little, leaning over the table to get that much closer to Daveney before he spoke. "Maybe I will," his blue eyes were filled with a challenge that Daveney knew she was going to have to accept. "if you promise to bet on me."

"Then you have to promise to win." Daveney said quickly. "I don't like to lose."

"Oh I reckon you don't." he shook his head as he leaned back into his seat. "It's a deal then, I'll win the tournament for you. Sorry Laurel, looks like you chose the wrong man!" Grantaire announced down the table.

"You have to actually draw your sword before you can claim victory Grantaire," Laurel laughed at his childishness. "What about you Adelaide, who shall you bet on this year?"

Adelaide knew what Laurel was doing. Anyone who saw Laurel as a pretty little flower was clearly blinded by her beauty and her quick tongue. Adelaide had been friends with the girl for far too many years to know that her question was not innocent. Laurel would make them all choose even if she knew their choices would likely not last a semester. It was a game to the other girl and Adelaide knew she had no choice but to play.

"Bahorel will you be dueling this year?" Adelaide's body turned to the man but her eyes moved past him, watching Laurel's pleased look as she made her choice.

"I will." he answered simply, shifting slightly so Adelaide's gaze could no longer find Laurel which forced her eyes up to his. With her back turned to Prouvaire she could not see his disappointment, instead she was drawn into the clouded eyes of her chosen champion.

Laurel was satisfied with the puppetry she had just played on Adelaide and then moved on to play the same game with her other friend. These young men were all their companions but Laurel believed it was about time that they received a little more than amicable attention. She had not been without prospected suitors before and she knew the other girls had shared a many dances with men who would have liked to called themselves their husbands but things were different here. The ABC boys had always looked at the girls as people, not property and therefore it made them more suitable than any man she had danced with before.

With her glance finding Liette down and across the table the predatory nature of Laurel's game was almost unmasked in her very primal Adelaide the choice had been unclear and Laurel had forced her to choose between her prospects but Laurel knew Liette's situation was different. Despite Joly's spirited nature and handsome young looks, Laurel knew that Liette's attentions would never truly turn to the man on her right. It was the brooding leader of their pack that Liette's body was already turned to. Liette would make no bet at all unless it was on Enjolras. "I'm sure we all know who Liette would bet on, if he'd entertain us by joining the game or at least the conversation again." Laurel teased, noticing that Enjolras had lost himself behind a menu again. With her words the menu fell flat on the table and both Enjolras and Liette stared down at her with the same bothered look on their faces. "But what a mirthless match they'd make, with no chance whatsoever in besting even Grantiare and Daveney."

"Was it not you who just said you can't claim victory before drawing your sword?" Enjolras' unamused look turned into a slight smirk and Laurel knew she had hooked him in. After all, none of them would have so easily followed Enjolras had he always been this miserable so Laurel's challenge was to get him back to his normal self. He needed to learn to enjoy all things again, even frivolous contests like the one they were discussing now.

"Yes, but that is all contingent on whether or not you came with a sword in the first place." Enjolras was quick but Laurel was much quicker.

"I'm beginning to think it would be ill-advised to show up unarmed in your presence Laurel." he sighed, noting the grin that fell upon Laurel's lips. She was satisfied with the fact that he had hooked him into the conversation in such a way.

"So you'll compete then?" Laurel asked.

"If it pleases the court." a chuckle fell from Enjolras' lips and suddenly the group sprung to life. Enjolras would join them and not become a solitude loner outside the group, too focused on the impending revolution to even stay within the group.

"It'll be fun to shut you up for once." Grantaire grinned, slapping his hand on Enjolras' shoulder "I think that deserves a drink!" the man bellowed, gaining their waiter's attention by just his clamorous nature. "Waiter, five bottles of Merlot!"

"Five?" Adelaide's eyes widened, thinking it would be a little improper of them to be raging drunk at one in the afternoon, especially in public. Adelaide rarely drank. She found that wine loosened her lips in the most uncomfortable matter and she hated the lack of control that came with drink. She had insulted enough people after too many glasses of wine and therefore had decided it was best to keep herself inhibited.

"Six!" Grantaire shouted to the waiter, causing Adelaide to sink back into her seat slightly. "Enjolras has been awakened from the dead after a week of leaving the world of the living! Look at the renewed breath in his chest!" Grantaire played the part of jester quite well as he jumped up from his seat and stood behind Enjolras, wrapping his arms around the other men, pretending that his arms with being raised by the mere breath in Enjolras' lungs. "Welcome back old friend."

"Get off me Grantaire." Enjolras growled but he couldn't hide the hint of a smile that came upon his lips as the group broke into laughter. Grantaire was always up for a show. In the same ways that Joly brought a lightness to the group Grantaire brought a sense of humor. Despite the seriousness of his passion Enjolras couldn't deny that it felt good to let himself go for a moment. It was only one lunch, his ideas of revolution wouldn't fall because of it. "Liette, what are you staring at?" his attention diverted to the female at his side as he noticed her turned around in her chair.

"Well it's just...doesn't that look like Barthelemy? The man in the soldier's uniform, over there." But it couldn't be Barthelemy, he was one of them, a student and member of the ABC. Students were not expected to join the military and as a revolutionary it seemed completely impossible that Barthelemy would be wearing such a uniform. Yes, as the heads at the table turned to catch a glimpse of the man who had caught Liette's eyes they couldn't deny the resemblance. His head turned and caught them staring and in that moment they all knew it was him. His blue eyes widened, terror stuck through him like a flash of lightning in a storm. "It is

him." Liette's words were barely a whisper and yet they reflected the realization of the whole table.

"That'll explain why he wasn't in class this morning." Courfeyrac commented dully.

"There has to be an explanation." Joly's voice shook and he began to rise from his chair. Liette's hand came to his arm to stop him but he shook it away lightly as he stepped away from the table. His heart would not believe that his own brother would betray them in such a way. He needed to sort this all out.

The others watched as Joly cautiously approached the table that his brother sat at with a group of other men dressed in soldiers' uniforms. "This isn't going to end well." Adelaide fretted, tugging on her dress in a nervous manner as she looked across the table and the restaurant to where Joly was.

Barthelemy looked as if he was ready to bolt from the table and head out the door as if he had been unseen. A sort of shame washed over his entire body as his shoulders slouched and his eyes darted down to avoid his younger brother's gaze. "Brother." Joly's voice was but a quivering mutter as he stood before his brother's table. "What are you doing here?"

"Having lunch with friends." Barthelemy forced an evenness to his voice that was unusual. He had always been a carefree spirit, one who challenged even Grantaire with the amount of times he was late or even drunk to their meetings over the summer. He cared about the revolution but he wasn't motivated to the light the flame, he was much more a follower than a leader and he had never been much of an academic. Barthelemy had fallen in with the ABC crowd because he felt the need to protect his brother. They had lost their father when they were young and therefore Barthelemy had always been the anchor of the family; someone who Joly could stay tied to in order not be swept up in the rough current of a changing word. Now Joly felt the rope tied to the anchor fraying, if this was what it appeared to be he would float away from his brother indefinitely.

"You're friends are over there." Joly insisted, pointing back to the table. "These are...these are..."

"Soldiers." Barthelemy cut in, saving his brother from trouble. "Officers of the law and so am I Joly." the admission washed away any hope that this was some sort of joke or misunderstanding.

"You're a student!"

"I'm not." the once playful young man seemed to be working with hard syllables and short fragments instead of the illustrious prose he normally spoke into. His back straightened once more and he forced some confidence upon his body to make him look good in front of the other soldiers. They watched with weary eyes, unsure if they could trust the former school boy yet. "I've enlisted, I'm not a schoolboy anymore Joly."

"So you're a spineless fool then."

"Did you just insult an officer of the law?" one of Barthelemy's companions, a hard jawed man with ghostly grey eyes spoke up against Joly, his confrontational attitude causing some of the ABC boys at the table to raise out of their seats a little.

"Don't." Daveney spoke, cautioning them with her hand. "Trust him."

"We do, we just don't want to see him dead." Courfeyrac responded without looking back. He rose a little more from his seat until Daveney's hand fell upon his shoulder, pushing him back down. "Those aren't children he's picking a fight with Daveney!" his eyes were upon her now, narrowing in and filling with a rumbling rage.

"I'm well aware of that Courfeyrac but Joly isn't a child either. He doesn't need you rushing to his aid every second." Daveney did not back down, her hand remained on Courfeyrac's shoulder to keep him steadied in his char as her gaze went back to Joly.

"How can you just turn your back on everything you've ever stood for?" Joly had ignored Barthelemy's company and continued on with his challenge. He wasn't quite ready to accept this and therefore he was putting up a fight.

"Joly not now." Barthelemy tried to shut his brother down knowing such a public confrontation would bring about trouble, especially with the other boys ready to spring into action.

"I think you better go back to your friends school boy." the chiseled jaw soldier spoke again but this time he began to stand from his chair. There was a serious threat in his movement and despite Daveney's protest Courfeyrac wouldn't stand back any longer.

"Joly, lets go."

"No, he has to explain himself." Joly's heart had been shattered by his brother's behaviour. He felt the knife in his back and his whole demeanor turned cold. He was but a shadow of his giddy self as he stood in the restaurant frozen in the moment. His jaw set and although he hardly looked menacing it was clear that he was truly unhappy.

"Later." Courfeyrac's hand tugged on Joly's shoulder, pulling him back towards their table with a small tumble. Joly turned around to confront Courfeyrac, ready to send misplaced anger his way but Courfeyrac simply gave the young man a hard look that ordered him to stop. Embarrassed, Joly tore away from Courfeyrac's grasp and headed past the table. He left his high spirits behind him, shattered upon the floor at his brother's feet. "Barthelemy." Courfeyrac greeted with a sharp tone before he headed back to the table, reclaiming his seat beside Daveney.

"Should someone go see if he is okay?" Adelaide asked, unhappy that their meal had been ruined before they could order much of anything. She had just been deciding on lunch but now her stomach had turned with the embarrassment of the situation that had just happened.

"I'll go." Courfeyrac began to get up again but Daveney's hand was on him once more, still annoyed that he had jumped up and sent Joly off in the first place.

"No. You'll just feed the flames." Daveney's brown hair shook against her shoulders as she raised up from her seat. Like gentlemen the boys stood as she went to leave the table. "I'll go check on him." with a nod of her head Daveney pushed off heading towards the door, hoping that Joly hadn't wandered off too far to be found.