YES! THIS STORY LIVES ON!
I am unimaginably sorry that it's taking me so long to write these. I write them in Notes on my phone, and I only really do that on the school bus... UGH I AM SO SORRY. I promise I haven't given up on this. Stay following, etc etc. NOTE: This is my most successful story yet, review-wise. Thanks guys!
The next day, it rained.
It rained long and hard, and most of the children stayed inside the elephant that day. Gavroche certainly did. Jacques was of the opinion that resistance was futile, and they should give up now. (These men were planning a revolution, surely the gang could never stand a chance in a prank war. Jacques was not an optimistic boy.) But Gavroche couldn't do that. These were not frightening students, young men who could crush him in a fight. These were his friends, his amis. He teased them daily, and he knew that they would never do anything to hurt him or his kids.
The children moaned and complained of everything from chill to hunger to boredom, but none could bring themselves to go out in the torrents of rain. None but Gavroche. The little leader braved the storm and ran to the Cafe Musain with a mischievous grin on his face. He dodged between buildings and scampered down alleyways, but without his usual joy. This was war.
When he finally arrived at the cafe, the men were having an intense discussion. For these students, an "intense discussion" meant shouting at each other and, for some, drinking. Gavroche grinned maliciously. Perfect.
"Um... Gavroche, are you okay?"
Darn. Prouvaire had caught his malicious grin. Well, Gavroche would show him!
"Just great, Jehan... Just great."
*****
Enjolras stood on a chair, trying in vain to get everyone's attention. Grantaire, of course, was drinking, and creating such a riot that no one else could even tell Enjolras was trying to speak. Finally, Feuilly spoke up.
"EVERYONE QUIET!" The cafe went dead silent in a millisecond. Feuilly NEVER yelled. Enjolras looked down at his friend gratefully from his place on the chair.
"Thank you. Now, we don't have a very long window of time in which to do this, so we need some sort of sign to show us that the time is right..."
As the leader continued talking, Grantaire took another big gulp of his absinthe and promptly spit it all out on Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac gave a very high-pitched shriek and leaped up from his chair. Grantaire was coughing and hacking, scraping at his tongue.
"Salt..." he wheezed, "in my... absinthe..."
Combeferre dipped a finger in his own drink and put in his mouth, pulling a face. "That's salt, all right."
A few of the other men sipped carefully at their drinks, also making similar faces and spitting the liquid back into their mugs.
"How did it get in there?" Bossuet wondered. Joly was appropriately convinced that it was Gavroche's gang. Courfeyrac was all for complaining to the cafe staff. Everyone was arguing-again-but Marius noticed him first.
"Look!" They all spun around to look where their friend was pointing.
Gavroche slipped out of the door before anyone could react, grinning hugely. He gave a small wave, and the door closed. For a moment, everyone was silent. Then, the inevitable chaos.
"Who does he think he-"
"Enjolras!"
"Revenge! Revenge I say!"
"Why would he do such a thing? He's usually such a nice boy-"
"I'll kill him, I will! I'll-"
"Get a hold of yourself, Joly! It's just a prank, and-"
"Salt," Grantaire moaned quietly, "in my absinthe..."
All prank ideas except the first one are courtesy of Allanna Stone, who was this story's savior. Appearances by Grantaire are made possible by Noroell, who made the genius request. I hope it's all you had dreamed of!