A/N: You're going to meet the other Feuilly brothers in this chapter, so I'm just going to refer to them by their names: Alexandre is the one that we know and love, Michel is the middle brother, and Julien is the youngest.

I forgot to mention this last chapter, but I'm thinking of filing a lawsuit against that guy who swore that he could turn me into Victor Hugo, because I'm still not him, and I still don't own the rights to any of his characters.

Enjoy Luca being a spaz!

It was not long before Luca showed up in front of Jehan's apartment building, demanding that he come to dinner at her flat.

"Alexandre's current girl is coming, and I hate her," she explained dramatically. "You need to come over right away, to keep me from going insane."

"O-okay," Jehan mumbled. "Let me go and put on my nice coat."

"There's not time!" Luca cried, pulling him along.

"Fine!" Jehan exclaimed. "I'll go now. Just let go of me."

"Also," the girl said while she was busy retrieving a silver-colored necklace from her bag, "you gave me this pendant, and we're madly in love."

"Luca, what the hell?"

"We're going to be married in a few months."

"No one will believe this, Mademoiselle," Jehan told her, once more in formal French. "It's only been a week since we met!"

"Good God, Prouvaire, you woo those ladies quickly then, don't you?"

"You're beyond reason!" Jehan cried, frustrated.

"So you'll do it?" Luca asked.

"Fine. If you teach me how to play the flute."

"Great! I was planning on doing that anyway. Come on, we're going to be late."

She took his hand and raced towards Montparnasse, nearly bowling people over as they tried to go about their daily business.

"Luca!" Jehan snapped when they'd nearly tripped up a few students leaving a café. "Slow down!"

"I can't, Alexandre thinks I'm in the kitchen right now!"

"How the—never mind. You're ridiculous."

"And I know it," she sang.

They reached the Feuillys' flat in record time, and they would've gotten there faster, apparently, if it weren't for Jehan's 'bourgeois slowness and self-control.' Alexandre did not see Luca enter, but she had instructed Jehan to knock on the door properly.

"Prouvaire," Alexandre greeted him once he'd opened the door. "Luca didn't tell us she was inviting you."

"I don't mean to impose, but—," Jehan began.

"Don't say anything more about it. I'm sure you couldn't have turned down her invitation if you'd wanted to. Please, come in."

Alexandre moved aside so that Jehan could enter, revealing a pretty girl who sat on the couch.

"Prouvaire, this is Mademoiselle Armelle Dubois. Armelle, this is our friend, Monsieur Jean Prouvaire."

"Are you Luca's—," Mademoiselle Dubois began to ask, but she was cut off by Luca's entrance.

"Jehan!" Luca cried. "You're here. I've missed you since I last saw you. I'm so glad you got my letter!" She wrapped her arms around her neck, causing Jehan to blush.

Alexandre coughed. "Luca," he chastised awkwardly.

"Oh, hush, Alexandre," his sister told him. "Don't act like you didn't do the same thing when Armelle got here."

"But Prouvaire is—," Alexandre began.

"Shushushush," Luca snapped. It was all that the men could do to eye her with baffled expressions. She continued talking as if she couldn't see them. "Anyway, dinner is almost ready. Where are Michel and Julien?"

"They should be getting home any moment now," Alexandre said.

Luca huffed. "Michel was supposed to help me with the chicken. He knows I can never get it right."

"Maybe he had to work late," Mlle Dubois offered.

Luca gave her a look that clearly said 'No one asked you, you fat cow' before returning to the kitchen.

"Perhaps I should try to be of help in there," Jehan said, making to follow the girl.

"Please, stay," Alexandre told him. "She just needs to burn off steam. Go ahead and have a seat."

Jehan sat down on the sofa next to Mlle Dubois.

"Are you courting our Luca?" the girl asked.

He began to say no, but remembered Luca's pendant. "Yes," he told her instead.

"That's lovely," she said. "Honestly, it's so nice that Luca's found herself a good man. She needs a little control in her life."

Jehan, thoroughly confused by the façade he was trying to keep up, nodded. He was starting to see why Luca didn't like Alexandre's girl.

Thankfully, the two younger Feuilly boys arrived then. Both were brawny like their oldest brother, with his same dark red hair. They were laughing with each other as they entered and bowed exaggeratedly to Mlle Dubois. She seemed charmed. Luca called them all in to dinner a few minutes later.

They all sat around a small, round table. Luca was on one side of Jehan, and Michel sat on the other. Beside Luca, Mlle Dubois and Alexandre held hands, and Julien completed the circle.

"How was work today?" Feuilly asked his younger brothers after he said Grace.

"Had a whole new shipment come in," Michel answered. Jehan remembered that he was a tanner. "Lots of work to do."

"Julien?"

"Bernard was a jackass about paying us, as usual. Other than that, though…"

"That's good. Luca, I hope you didn't give Monsieur Morrel too many problems today."

"Me?" Luca asked. "Give Morrel problems? Never."

"That's not what he tells me," Alexandre grumbled. Luca only laughed.

"How were things at the sweat shop?" the younger girl asked Mlle Dubois.

"She doesn't work in a sweat shop, Luca," Alexandre reprimanded. "She's a seamstress."

"As you say, brother. How was it, though?"

"Nothing special," Mlle Dubois told her.

"Just thought I'd include you in all of this family stuff," Luca said.

"That's very thoughtful," Mlle Dubois remarked sweetly.

"If we're going to include her," Julien commented through stuffed cheeks, "then we should include Prouvaire. Get into any good fights today?"

"Drink any good absinthe?" Michel added.

"Quiet, both of you," Luca snapped. "I want to hear about Jehan's day."

"I went to the café for lunch, and wrote a few verses. I scarcely have anything to do with myself until classes begin in the fall."

"When do they start?" Julien asked.

"September, I believe."

"September! What are you going to do with yourself for three whole months?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out."

"You should spend your free days down here," Luca told him. "I don't have much to do or anyone to talk to after my lessons with Morrel."

"You're welcome here any time, Prouvaire," Alexandre agreed.

"Thank you," Jehan said. "I suppose I might stop by sometimes. I do love your company, Luca."

Luca's responding smile bordered on a smirk as she leaned over to whisper something in Mlle Dubois' ear. The older girl blushed. "So soon?" she hissed back in a voice that Jehan could barely discern over the clatter of dishes.

"I can't say anything for certain, but I think he really likes me," Luca whispered.

"You're so young!"

"Well, the bourgeois generally like to marry their children off early. Maybe he doesn't know any better."

"He's only a student!"

"You can stop armies, but you can't stop love."

Jehan was nearly positive that Luca had intended for him to hear that entire conversation. He shook his head and kept at his peas.

After dinner, the men gathered in the salon; Luca had been left to clean the dishes. Jehan had offered to help her, and she would have accepted if it weren't for Alexandre's interruption in favor of keeping him for conversation. Instead, Mlle Dubois was allowed to keep her company.

"I didn't see you at the Musain this week," Alexandre said in a tone that would have been casual, had it not been so low—it was clear that he did not want Luca to overhear.

"I had other engagements," Jehan explained.

"I thought you said you were without occupation," Julien commented.

"I—well, it's just that—oh, forget it. I didn't think Luca would approve."

"You don't have to keep up whatever crap Luca's got you pretending," Alexandre told him. "Is there another reason you aren't coming? Is it Enjolras? He can come on a little strong…"

"No," Jehan said. "No, it's only that…I don't know much about the cause, and I don't know what my own opinions are, and just…Please understand. I don't mean you or Enjolras or any of the others any harm when I don't come to the meetings. I'm just…unsure."

"That's understandable," Alexandre murmured. "Shall we move onto lighter subjects, then?"

The four men talked leisurely for about an hour before Luca and Mlle Dubois reappeared.

"I suppose I'd better walk Monsieur Prouvaire home," Luca announced. "It's getting late."

"That's true," Alexandre said. "Shall I take you home, Armelle?"

"I would like that," the girl consented.

Together, the four of them left the tenement, and then split to take their separate routes. Before Alexandre and Mlle Dubois were out of sight, Luca pulled Jehan to her and kissed him.

"Luca, what the hell?" Jehan asked for the second time that day. She just rolled her eyes and kissed him again. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"I'm kissing you," she said. "Isn't that what soon-to-be-betrothed people do?"

"Yes, but," here Jehan lowered his voice, "we aren't anything like betrothed." She kissed him yet again. "Stop kissing me!"

"Why should I?" she asked.

"Because it's indecent, and I've only known you a little while."

"What should that matter? It's just a kiss."

"Just a kiss?"

"Oh, I forgot. You still have that bourgeois notion of propriety shoved up your—."

"Luca, shut up! And stop that!" Jehan demanded.

"Make me," she teased before kissing him again.

"Luca…"

"Come on, Jehan." Kiss. "I won't stop kissing you until you kiss me back."

"Luca." Kiss. "Luca stop! Luca—." He cut himself off this time, pressing his lips to hers briefly, praying that it would make her give up kissing him.

It certainly shut her up.

"Are you done now?" he asked.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it…"

Jehan groaned and buried his blush in his hand.

"Take me home, Luca."

"Okay." Her face bore a full-blown smirk now.

Jehan would've liked it, perhaps, if they were silent as they walked, but Luca had other ideas, as usual.

"Did you see what I don't like about Armelle?" she asked.

"I guess so."

"She's so…proper."

"And, as we have learned, you're the opposite."

"Shut up. But seriously, don't you think she looked like she had a pole shoved where a pole shouldn't be shoved?"

"That's not nice…"

"But it's true, isn't it?"

"I could definitely see why you'd be offended by her, just because of a couple of things she said to me."

"Like what?"

"Well, she told me that she thought it a good thing that you had such a 'good young man' in your life—that you needed control."

"Ugh, that little—," Luca took off swearing in Argot now, unable to restrain her fury.

"Calm down, Luca," Jehan ordered. "She's just Alexandre's current girl, right? She'll be gone in a few months."

"Alexandre talks about marrying her sometimes," Luca snapped bitterly. "That's why I told her that we were getting married."

"Luca, you're being childish."

"I'm being completely non-childish, and even if I was being childish, it's okay because I'm only sixteen. What's your excuse?"

"I'm not being childish."

"Or are you?"

"I'm changing the subject."

"Afraid you'll lose?"

"More like afraid that I'll accidently stoop down to your level."

"I thought you were changing the subject."

"So I've written a few good verses lately…"

"Now it's too late!"

"Luca!"

They continued to fight like children all the way back to Jehan's flat, but stopped abruptly when they reached it.

"Good night, Prouvaire," Luca said quietly.

"Goodnight, Luca."

They looked at each other, and somehow, their lips met briefly. Jehan felt his eyes sliding closed, and Luca began to smile against his lips. He was moving a hand up to cup her face when she pulled away unexpectedly.

"Good night, Prouvaire," she said again, before rushing off into the night.

Either Jehan was dreaming already, or Luca's face had started to turn red before she ran away.