AmZ, L'Ael-Inire, Marionette Javert Edwards, Bramblefox: thank you all for reviewing!

"Resigned?"

"Yes, M. le maire, so I was told."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid I don't know."

"Well – I don't understand! Why wasn't I notified?"

Madeleine found himself strangely offended by the news. He knew, rationally, that he should be relieved. After all, this was a man whose constant scrutiny and suspicion he had been forced to endure since the Fauchelevant affair. A man who, unknowingly, had nearly compelled him to return to prison.

And yet, a strange part of him felt betrayed. He said to himself, who does this man think he is, to leave his post for no reason, without notice? But he also thought, absurdly –without my permission?

Madeleine, momentarily lost in his thoughts, had forgotten the man standing in front of him, awaiting his word. "Well, go on then!" He barked, his manner uncharacteristically harsh. "Find him and tell him to come immediately to my office." It did not occur to Madeleine that he could no longer give orders to Javert.

***

The winter is always colder in Montfermeil than in Paris. It is a strange phenomenon of cities; they seem to generate warmth through sheer numbers. This effect, while suffocating in the summer, in the winter is often the difference between life and death for those who live on the streets. This is part of the reason why small towns like Montfermeil have a very small homeless population. The few that exist either move on quickly or perish.

On a cold February day, this population increased by one. The unlucky soul was a young child who had just been driven from the miserable place she called home. The girl, hated by the woman of the house and no longer profitable to the man, was turned out to the mercy of the streets, with nothing but the rags she wore.

***

Javert had been in the middle of packing his things when he was interrupted. Fortunately, a man with his habits did not have a large amount of belongings to preoccupy him. He intended to leave Montreuil-sur-mer without delay and head to the southern part of the country to look for work.

He was irritated, but not at all surprised when the mayor's clerk appeared at his door. He was, however, inwardly displeased that the mayor had not seen fit to call on him personally. After all, this whole business was because of him. He had not wanted to resign, yet the mayor had given him no choice. Further proof that the man had no concept of justice. If he had been just, if he had really respected Javert, as he claimed, he would not have hesitated to dismiss him. Javert had intended to make his request again, but since Madeleine's illness, he somehow could not bring himself to face the man.

Now he listened while the clerk stammered his message, relaying that M. le maire kindly requested M. Javert's presence right away. No doubt he wanted to try to persuade Javert to keep his position. A pointless exercise for both men.

Nonetheless, Javert agreed to see the mayor, if only out of curiousity about what he might have to say.

***

An hour later, M. Madeleine was in his office, distractedly going over some town business, when he was informed that M. Javert had arrived.

"Have him enter." He said, without stopping his work.

Javert entered and gave a curt bow, which most more reflexive than deliberate. His eyes were no longer downcast, his face no longer displayed the resigned humility it had at their last meeting. Today, it was a proud and stern air.

"Have a seat, inspector."

Javert remained standing. "Monsieur." He corrected.

"Yes, I see. My clerk tells me you have resigned your post. May I ask why? Has the position become unsatisfactory to you?"

"No, M. le maire, I have become unsatisfactory to my post." There was an edge of irritation in his voice.

"I do not understand, Javert."

Javert sighed, and spoke with forced patience. "It's perfectly simple: I informed M. le maire nine days ago of my impending departure. I understand your recent illness may have disturbed your ability to remember. Very well, I shall refresh your memory. I, as an agent of authority, abused my position and acted on unjust suspicions, –"

Madeline raised his hand, cutting him off. "Enough, Javert, I remember. But what is this nonsense about resigning? As I recall, you requested your dismissal, which I did not grant."

"Indeed, that is why I have resigned."

M. Madeleine placed the fingers of his right hand against his temple as if all this was giving him a headache. "Javert, you make too much of this. Here is the case: you denounced me, you confessed, you admitted your error. I forgave you."

"You do not have the right to forgive me."

These words, spoken with such conviction and simplicity, were very strange to the ears of M. Madeleine. He looked at Javert, trying to find in his face an understanding he could not in his words. Javert returned his gaze, his expression impassive.

"What then? Don't you wish to redeem yourself?"

"I cannot. A man does not erase an error by countering it with a good deed."

"Is that what you believe?"

"Yes."

"So you are unwilling to make restitution for the wrong you have done to me?"

Now it was Javert who hesitated. His voice became edged with suspicion. "What do you mean?"

"If I asked you to do something for me, you would refuse?"

"I will not remain on the police force."

"That's not what I meant. Something else."

Javert's expression clearly showed what was in his mind at the moment. He regarded Madeleine icily. "What?" he asked harshly.

Madeleine had been distractedly shuffling some papers on his desk as they spoke, as if to purposefully avert his eyes. "I want you to go on an errand for me."

He paused, then:

"I want you to go to Montfermeil and bring back Fantine's child."

Javert looked like he was about to go mad.

"No." A world of opposition was contained in that syllable.

"I know that we have exchanged words over the subject of Fantine, but I ask you, Javert, do not let that prejudice you against her. She is innocent in this."

"Innocent! The wretch should be in prison as we speak."

"Indeed, you may as well say she should be dead! Really, Javert, are you without any compassion? The woman is very ill. I know! And her child, you cannot deny, is blameless." He had stood up, his fists resting on the desk as he leaned over it; he was now facing the other man almost eye to eye, without even noticing the aggressive position he had taken. Javert did not flinch.

"Send someone else. I am not your servant. Besides, I am leaving the city."

"Ah! so now that it suits you, you forget your injustice against me. You do not wish to make amends."

And he added spitefully, "I thought you were a man of integrity, Javert."

Madeleine was aware that he was taking this too far. For one thing, he knew very well that Javert had never been wrong in his accusation. And he could surely find someone else for this task. Javert had answered him: no. But it was beyond the issue of Cosette now. If he could have objectively witnessed his own thoughts, he would have seen that, like the scene at the police station, there was an issue of power at hand. Only this time, instead of Fantine, it was Cosette who was caught in the middle. And yet Madeleine was blind to all this, convinced that he had only the interest of the child in mind.

Javert responded in a low voice. "I owe you nothing."

There was a long silence. Javert did not elaborate.

At last, Madeleine grew impatient. "So, will you do this or not? Time is short. The child may be in danger. Will you do nothing?"

A pause. "I will go." Javert said steadily. "But there is something you must do in return."

"What is that?"

Javert fixed him with a look so daunting that Madeleine unconsciously took a step back.

"You will tell me exactly who, and what, you really are."