Hi.

I haven't updated this story in a disgracefully long amount of time. If you're still reading, thank you for your perseverance.

I haven't had a lot of time to write lately, for a number of reasons––I'll spare you the details. I'm really sorry for the delay. But, you'll be pleased to know I have finally concluded this story! I hesitate to say "finished," because it's far from finished. At some point I may go back and re-write the previous chapters, but that probably won't happen for a while.

I wanted to put this story aside so I could face tomorrow with a clear conscience, because tomorrow is the first day of NaNoWriMo: National Novel Writing Month! My best friend and I are doing it together. I don't know how I let her talk me into this, but as scary as it is I'm kind of excited. When I finish my novel, I may post it on FictionPress if I'm pleased with how it turns out.

Anyway, thank you all so much for bearing with me through this story. Enjoy the last two chapters!

––T.G.

"'Zelma, you've been in there for a half hour already! How long does it take you to get clean?"

"I'll be out in a minute!"

"That's what you said ten minutes ago! Hurry up; the water's gonna be freezing by the time I get in the tub."

"It's all right, Eponine," said Mme. Pascal, setting down a basket of freshly laundered towels outside the bathroom door, "I'll heat some more water for your bath." Eponine slumped against the wall with a sigh. It had been so long since either of them had had a proper bath she couldn't blame Azelma for wanting to savor the experience as long as possible.

A brisk knock on the bedroom door woke Gavroche from his half-doze. "C'mon in!" he said. The door swung open and Javert came in, carrying a book under his arm. He put the book on the bedside table and sat down on the bed beside Gavroche. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "Better," said Gavroche, "A lot better. How are you, Inspector?" A faint trace of a smile appeared under Javert's mustache. "I am quite well," said Javert. "I've brought you something." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a round, reddish-golden object. "Whassat?" asked Gavroche.

"This is an orange," said Javert matter-of-factly.

"What's it for?"

"It's for you to eat."

Javert put the fruit in Gavroche's hand and produced a second one from his other pocket. "It's got a thick skin that is rather bitter," he said, "We must peel that off first of all." Gavroche watched as Javert began to peel his orange. He stuck his fingernail into the skin, trying to imitate the inspector. Javert squinted as a few drops of orange juice squirted into his eye. "Oops," said Gavroche, "Sorry."

"Here," Javert said, "I'll get you started." He took the orange from Gavroche and tore off a large patch of the peel. "There now," he said, handing the orange back, "You do the rest."

"So, what now?" asked Gavroche, holding the exposed fruit in his hand. "Now, we eat," said Javert. He pulled a piece off his orange and popped it in his mouth, chewing slowly. Gavroche did the same. "Mm…that's good!"

"All right, 'Ponine, the bathtub's all yours." Azelma stepped out into the hallway, rubbing her hair with a towel. She was wearing a dressing gown provided by Mme. Pascal, which hung loosely on her slender frame. She pulled it tighter around herself when she heard Javert's voice in the room across the hall. She also heard Gavroche giggling. Curious to see what the joke was, she tiptoed to the doorway and peeked in. Javert was sitting on the edge of the bed, his mouth stretched into a tremendous grin revealing a slice of orange between his teeth. Gavroche had the inspector's top hat on his head, and his upper lip curled up holding a strip of orange peel beneath his nose, though he was trying so hard not to laugh it was not going to stay there for long. Azelma clapped her hand over her mouth, trying not to burst out laughing. She ran back to the bathroom. "Eponine!" she whispered.

"What?"

"You've got to see––" Azelma let out a burst of giggles. Eponine poked her head out of the door. "What is it?" she asked. Azelma grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the bedroom. Eponine looked in; after a few seconds she collapsed against Azelma's shoulder, trying to muffled her laughter. Javert glanced toward the door. "Something funny, ladies?" he asked. Azelma and Eponine both straightened up, trying to look sober, but they couldn't contain their amusement. Javert shook his head. "What are we going to do with those two?" he said to Gavroche. Gavroche shrugged. "Not much you can do, Inspector," he said, "They're both absolutely mad."
"Us!" exclaimed Azelma ,feigning shock. "How rude!" said Eponine, sticking her nose in the air. "Aw, go take yer bath," said Gavroche, flinging a pillow toward her. Eponine calmly picked up the pillow. "Pardon me, dear brother," she said, advancing towards the bed, "It appears you've dropped something." She swung the pillow at Gavroche, cuffing him lightly across the shoulders. Gavroche grabbed onto the pillow, attempting to wrestle it from her grip. "'Zelma, help!" cried Eponine. Azelma jumped onto the bed and made a grab for the pillow, only to be swatted by a second one. "No fair, Inspector!" she said to the pillow-wielding Javert, who merely grinned back at her. She tried to disarm Javert; Eponine, meanwhile, fell to tickling Gavroche. "Stop it, 'Ponine!" Gavroche gasped between fits of giggles.

"Not until you give me that pillow!" Eponine released him suddenly when she felt someone tickle the back of her neck. "Inspector!" she said. Javert looked innocently puzzled. Eponine threw Gavroche's pillow at him. "Enough's enough," she said, "I'm gonna go take my bath before it gets cold."

Azelma pulled her dressing gown around herself, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. "I should go get dressed," she said, hurrying away down the hall. Javert replaced the pillows behind Gavroche's head and smoothed out the rumpled covers. "Do I have to stay in bed?" asked Gavroche. "That's what the doctor said," said Javert. Gavroche sighed. Javert sat down on the edge of the bed. He picked up the book he had laid on the bedside table. "One of the men I work with in the police force gave me this book," he said, "He has a son who's about your age. When I told him about you he said he thought you would enjoy it."

Gavroche ran his hand over the cover of the book, tracing the gold lettering with his fingers. "I don't know how to read, Inspector," he said quietly.

"That's no matter," said Javert, "I'll read it to you."

Both of them got so caught up in the tale of knights and dragons that Mme. Pascal had to call them down for supper three times. "Monsieur," she said, marching into the room with her hands on her hips, "Supper will be cold; are you not coming down?" Javert stuck his folded handkerchief between the pages and shut the book. "Are you coming?" he asked Gavroche.

"Can I?"

"If you feel up to it."

Gavroche swung his legs over the side of the bed. Mme. Pascal enveloped him in a blanket and coaxed Javert's slippers onto the boy's bare feet. Javert gave Gavroche his arm to lean on, and they made their way toward Eponine and Azelma's room. The sound of singing floated down the hallway through the open door. Both girls wore simple cotton dresses provided by Mme. Pascal. Azelma knelt on the end of the bed, while Eponine stood behind her, braiding her hair. Their clear voices wove together in a lilting carol.

This time of the year is spent in good cheer
And neighbours together do meet,
To sit by the fire, with friendly desire,
Each other in love to greet.
Old grudges forgot are put in the pot,
All sorrows aside they lay,
The old and the young doth carol this song,
To drive the cold winter away.

Javert waited until they had finished the verse. He cleared his throat, reluctant to interrupt. Both heads turned toward the door. "Oh, hello," said Eponine, "How long've you two been listening?"

"Mme. Pascal wishes me to inform you that supper is ready," said Javert. "Thank you," said Eponine. She tied a ribbon on the end of Azelma's braid. She put her arm around Gavroche and gave his shoulders a squeeze. "Hungry?" she asked. Gavroche nodded. "Well, come on, then."

Later that evening, Javert sat down in his study with some case notes to look over. Downstairs, he could hear the girls singing while they helped Mme. Pascal with the dishes. He left his papers on the desk, went into his room and picked up the book he had been reading to Gavroche, and headed down the stairs. Gavroche was sitting on a footstool near the hearth in the parlor. Javert took the poker from the rack and stirred the fire into a comfortable blaze. "Thought you said you had work to do," said Gavroche. "I did," said Javert, "But I couldn't wait to find out what happened to those knights. Care to join me?" He sat down on the sofa and patted the seat beside him. Gavroche hopped onto the sofa and settled in beside Javert.

While Javert was reading, Eponine and Azelma came quietly in and seated themselves on the hearthrug. Mme. Pascal crept through the dining room and peered in from the doorway. She smiled. Quite the family portrait we have here.