A/N: Goodness, I'm the worst at updating. Sorry I always take so long; this may be my last update for a while. My classes start in two days, and I'll be incredibly strapped for time. I fear an impending hiatus; I'll post a notice if that becomes the case. But until that's the case, please enjoy this last chapter before the trial!

Enjolras groaned, holding his head in his palms. "Dammit…" he muttered. "This is not good at all."

"What? What is it?" Éponine asked urgently.

"Judge Michael Gray is a good friend of my father's from law school," Enjolras explained grimly. "Not exactly a man to stick cleanly to the letter of the law, especially when his friends are involved. Which means that if he takes the bench, it spells doom for our case."

Éponine swore violently under her breath – her choice of words prompted raised eyebrows from Combeferre, whereas Enjolras just shook his head – as she tried to start thinking. "There's got to be something you can do to keep him off the case. Isn't there?"

"That's still unclear right now," Combeferre answered. "If Mr. Enjolras Sr. wants Mr. Gray on the bench, he's likely to do everything it takes to get around us and get what he wants." He looked over to his best friend; "Am I wrong?"

The younger Enjolras shook his head. "Not at all. My father's a very stubborn, determined man. If what you heard today was correct – especially if it actually happens – then…" he sighed heavily. "This case may be doomed before it even starts."

Éponine set her jaw as she heard her boyfriend speak. There had to be a way to make this work for him. She could figure it out just as well as anyone else; she was a Thénardier. And Thénardiers had ways of getting what they wanted. "Is there a way you can ensure Judge Gray doesn't get this case on his docket?" she asked. "As far as I'm aware, judges are supposed to be impartial."

Enjolras sighed. "Technically, yes," he said, "but there's always a lot of string-pulling that goes on behind the scenes from various parties involved on any given case, and the rules are often bent a little, if not broken entirely. And my father is definitely the kind to engage in the aforementioned string-pulling."

Éponine bit her lip. "There must be some way of getting him off the case. Maybe another judge?" she suggested. "We don't know who all your father's paying off."

"It could be worth a try," Combeferre added.

Enjolras sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. "I suppose we'll have to look into it. It may be our only option now. Thank you for coming today, John."

His best friend nodded. "Of course, Richard."

Enjolras was still troubled as he and Éponine got ready for bed that night. His head hung, and his mind was clearly weighed down. He stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, pacing the room and the apartment, sitting on the edge of the bed to try and collect his thoughts, and getting up to pace again. Éponine finally went to sleep around 1:00 am, but Enjolras simply couldn't. His head was spinning, and he couldn't figure out a solution to anything that was going on.

Finally, at 4:30 in the morning, he crawled into his bed, exhausted.

"There you are," she murmured tiredly without opening her eyes as he got into bed.

He chuckled softly, but humorlessly. "Couldn't sleep."

"Did you stop pacing to try?" she asked dryly.

"No," he admitted with another sigh as he turned onto his back. "I'm just so worried about this case; what's going to happen…this could make or break my career before I'm even a fully licensed prosecutor. I have so much to lose, and simultaneously so much to gain."

Éponine gently tilted his head around to face her, before placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "Everything's going to be alright, love," she murmured softly, letting her hand trace over his face. "A little worry is okay, but don't let it control you."

He closed his eyes, gently placing his hand over hers as he felt his consciousness miraculously start to slip away. "You're always right…" he murmured softly, before he finally fell asleep.

Thénardier roared in outrage, slamming his fists on the table. "She slept wi' 'im?!"

Montparnasse tried not to wince at his boss' reaction, but continued to speak in as much of a deadpan tone as he could manage. "I saw their discussion with my own eyes. Couldn't catch most of the words, but 'Ponine was looking like a bitch in heat when they started down the hall, presumably to his bedroom. Knowing her, I can only assume what followed."

"Damn it all! I knew 'e couldn't be trusted," Thénardier growled, still clenching his fists in anger. He stared down at them for a few seconds, before slowly lifting his gaze to meet Montparnasse's. "And yer sure o' this? Got any proof besides yer own eyes?"

"Not yet, no." Montparnasse clenched his jaw. "I suppose I could take Claquesous out with me next time I go over there…"

"…Alrigh'," he let out a heavy sigh, his grip loosening a bit. "I'll leave it ta ye, then." He waved a hand, dismissing Montparnasse. "Now leave; I need ta be alone ta think on this." Montparnasse nodded sharply, exiting the room.

Thénardier didn't know how long he spent sitting, drinking and brooding about Éponine. That stupid bitch wasn't happy enough running away and shacking up with a lawyer; now she had to start sleeping with him, too. Oh, would she get a piece of his mind if she ever came home…

And then he got an idea.

Kissing Grantaire was nice, Azelma had decided. She liked the way he'd gently hold her waist in one arm, cupping her cheek with his other hand and gently pressing his lips against hers. She'd developed quite the soft spot for him over the time she'd been staying at his apartment – almost two weeks. He was sweet, witty, attentive to what she needed, and incredibly kind. Éponine had told her that Enjolras had never liked Grantaire much because of all his drinking, but that had significantly cut back since Azelma had been boarding with him.

So now, in the middle of the afternoon, here they sat on his sofa, drinking wine and kissing. Neither of them could believe how quickly their friendship – almost a relationship – had progressed in such a short amount of time. But they didn't care.

Grantaire traced a finger lightly along Azelma's cheek, a cheeky grin on his face as he went in for another kiss. He'd not quite expected this turn of events from taking her in, but he wasn't exactly complaining. Her hand gently brushed across the stubble on his cheek as it went to the back of his head, gently taking a hold of his thick, black curls. He wrapped a hand around her back, pulling her tighter to him as he deepened their kiss. He had done this many times before; the ladies would always go crazy over it.

Though Azelma was…different. He didn't want to rush things with her quite as much as he had with other women before. He wasn't sure why, but he tried his best not to question a good thing. However, she didn't shy away from him as she let his arm pull her onto his lap. One of her hands was still on the back of his head, the other resting on his chest. He wondered if she could feel his heart pounding like a drum.

"You're surprisingly…more forward than I expected," Grantaire smirked up at her, tilting her head up slightly to kiss the bare skin along her chin, slowly trailing lower to her neck.

Azelma chuckled softly as his lips gently pressed against her bare skin. "I've already told you – this doesn't feel rushed to me," she said. "With you…things are different, but they're good. It's hard to explain."

He chuckled, tracing his finger along the other side of her neck. "Well, I'll let you set the pace, then," he said softly, lifting his head up to her ear. "Now…what sort of things are you curious about trying, hmm?"

She bent her head just enough to nip at his neck. "I hadn't given it much thought yet…" she murmured in his ear.

He pulled her further down, pressing her against his chest as he trailed kisses down to her shoulder. "Then I'll set our pace…think you can keep up?" He teased. She bit her lip and looked away from him, sliding back down off his lap a little. His eyes widened a bit in surprise, his arms moving to her waist. "Hey, hey, whoa…I take it back, we don't have to go that fast," he quickly responded, looking up at her.

"He used to say that, too…" she muttered softly, before chuckling humorlessly. "And I was stupid enough to believe him, every time."

Grantaire paused a moment, looking down. His teeth clenched a bit. "I'm not like him…" he said. "Not in any way. I swear," he looked up at her. "I am not like Montparnasse," he grunted, his eyes meeting hers as he tilted her face back to look at him. "I will never be like that scum."

She looked back into his eyes. "I know, Alan. And I trust you." She leaned over to let her head rest on his shoulder. "I suppose some of my old Thénardier paranoia is still in my head."

He let out a sigh, hugging her with an arm. "I understand…it's nothing to be ashamed of," he said. "If I had to deal with that, I think I'd be a bit paranoid too," he chuckled.

Azelma chuckled softly, letting her other arm wrap around his waist. "Thank you for being so understanding." She kissed his cheek, murmuring, "Most men I know wouldn't be."

He smiled sadly, tilting her head to face him. "Most men don't have the stomach to help a woman in need," he said, planting a kiss on her forehead. "And you pulled me out of a dark time in my life as well."

She smiled up at him. "I'm glad for that." He paused a moment, just staring into her eyes. Grantaire had felt something when they met, but he wasn't sure at the time what it was. But now, with her in his arms…he was sure. He noticed her tilting her head to the side as she watched his face change. "What is it, Alan?"

He paused for a few more seconds before responding. "Azelma, I…I don't think I've felt like this with any other woman before," he said.

She turned to face him a little more. "W-what do you mean?"

He bit his tongue briefly in his mouth. What was he saying? How did he want to convey this? His mouth spoke before his mind could stop it. "Azelma, I…I love you."

She was silent for a moment, her eyes gone wide with shock and both hands covering her mouth. "You…love me?" she whispered at last.

He nodded slowly. "I don't know how or when it happened, but…" he paused again, grasping for words. "I don't want to give you to any other man." He picked up her hand in his and looked almost pleadingly into her eyes. "I know it's not much given the kind of man I am, but…will you give me a chance?"

Azelma grasped his hand for just a moment, before throwing her arms around him. "Alan, you're the best man I've known," she whispered. "And…I love you too."

He smiled, hugging her back. "I am, hmm?" He chuckled. "Well, I can see where you're coming from with that," he teased. She chuckled, kissing his cheek lightly. He brought a hand up to lightly stroke her cheek. "Let's not let anyone change that, shall we?" He asked softly.

"I don't think anyone could," she murmured with a broad smile, pressing her forehead against his.

Enjolras woke up early the next morning, feeling not at all rested. He kept his eyes closed, noticing how tired and heavy his body felt. He was exhausted already, and that thought filled him with dread for the days and weeks to come. Was he really capable of this at all?

He sighed softly, trying not to wake Éponine as he got out of bed, walked to the window and leaned on the sill, still breathing deeply. Enjolras surveyed the New York streets below him. The sky was still mostly dark, but the first soft rays of pink and yellow were lightening the skyscrapers that stood tall and proud on the horizon. The world is waking, he thought to himself, and for some of us, it will be anything but just another day.

Two arms gently encircled his waist, and he smiled to himself. Éponine never said a word, but stood with him in silent support.

"Did I wake you?" he asked softly after a moment.

She shook her head. "I had a bit of a restless night."

He smiled, bringing a hand up to gently caress one of the arms around his neck, giving it a light kiss. "I suppose I'm not the only one, then," he smiled, the two of them standing there in a few small moments of comfortable silence.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" she asked softly.

Enjolras set his jaw as he braced against the windowsill. "Do I have a choice but to be ready for this?" he asked softly.

Éponine gently rubbed his shoulders. "You can do this," she murmured in his ear. "I know you can."

"But what if I can't?" he asked in a small voice, turning around to look at her; it cut her deeply to see him so pained. "What if everything goes all wrong? 'Ponine…I'm terrified."

She wrapped him up in her small arms, squeezing him as tightly as she could. "You have no need to be terrified, love," she murmured into his hair. "You are brave and strong enough to do this. You faced down my father, you actually punched Montparnasse…and you saved me."

Enjolras gave her a weak smile. "I guess I finally lived up to my middle name after all," he murmured.

"I couldn't be any more thankful for it," she murmured back, kissing his lips gently. Enjolras let his hand come up to cradle her shoulder blade as he kissed her back; her touch was a balm to his worried soul. "Come on," she said, "let's go get that case of yours on the docket."

A/N: Almost time! Please review if you liked it!