When Javert woke up, the sun had rose high into the sky. It had to be at least ten o'clock in the morning. He stared at it for a moment, trying to remember the last time he had slept beyond dawn. He frowned when he took his eyes away though. He was not in the spare room he had settled down into last night.
It took him a few moments to remember what had happen. The food he had forced down the previous evening had rebelled and come back up in the night. He remembered Madeleine sitting beside him, rubbing his side and trying to help him relax. He did not remember anything after that.
He hoped the mayor had not carried him to bed. He was not a small man, and the man might have an impressive strength about him but it could not have been easy. He scowled at the idea that he had inconvenienced the man so. He shuffled to the end of the bed and spotted the clothing the mayor had let him borrow the day before sat on a chair. His own clothing was nowhere to be seen.
Fine. Javert could take a hint. He stood, pulled off the nightshirt, stale with sweat as it was, and pulled on the clothes. In the kitchen, Madeleine was stood gazing out a window, a cup delicately cradled in his large hands. He looked over at Javert when he entered the room and a smile crept slowly onto his face.
"Good morning."
Javert simply nodded, folding his arms across his stomach. He could feel a blush creeping up as he thought of Madeleine carrying him into his own bed last night. He was probably too heavy for the man to make it to the other room. Madeleine's chamber was closer. He wanted to apologise for bothering him, but he could not get the words past the lump in his throat.
"Join me for breakfast?" it sounded like an innocent request, but it filled Javert with an odd fear he was not used to. He shook his head quickly.
"My apologies. You were ill last night. Sit at the table with me while I break my fast?"
It was a reasonable request this time, and though he did not like the smell of food, he nodded and sat beside down. Madeleine put a cup of water in front of him, before smiling at sitting down with some bread and cheese to eat.
"I hope you don't mind. It makes me uncomfortable if you have nothing."
The man gave him a soft smile again, and Javert's heart fluttered strangely. He accepted the cup. He ought to do his best to make the man comfortable.
"Where is my uniform?"
"Drying. But you are not working today, so it does not matter. Do you have a spare one to bring over? Your clothing needs a wash."
"I have... a spare jacket, and two spare shirts. I'm afraid I only have only pair of trousers."
"Do you need more? What do you wear in your spare time? I want you to be happy and comfortable here."
Javert felt his heart ache as he looked at the man; the mayor's face was so open, so sincere.
"I have a spare coat, and a pair of black slacks." They had been an indulgence, something he had bought on a whim. It filled him with shame when he thought about it, but they were soft, of a good material, and he liked them. They had been purchased about two years ago, before he started to struggle with money, before he realised he had been spending far too much money on food...
"That is all?" The man looked shocked, though Javert was unsure why. He did not need any more clothing, why would he waste money he did not have on them? "Will you permit me to buy you a new great coat at least? Yours is, I'm afraid, still blackened."
Could he allow the man to do that? It was true, he did need a new greatcoat and he wanted to look respectable during his everyday business... he gave a hesitant nod. He could just pay the man back over time. Madeleine smiled, before leaning across to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
The inspector flushed slightly, hunching his shoulder in for reasons he did not know. The mayor's lips had been oddly soft, but warm. He could not remember anyone touching him in such a manner before. He had been a burden to his mother, and not an object of affection for anyone... he wanted to experience it again. He considered asking, but the idea the mayor might say no was too painful. He kept his desires to himself, trying not to be too hopeful that it could ever happen again.
Madeleine had kissed his cheek twice now. Surely, anything more would be selfish wishing on his part. He gave the man a smile, hoping it did not display all his worries, all his emotions, and he drained his cup.
"If I am not working," he said, trying to keep his voice even, "what will we be doing today?"
"Oh," the mayor beamed at him, as though he had managed the correct question, "I thought we could get to know each other a little better, maybe walk about the duck pond."
He nodded. It sounded acceptable. Madeleine smiled at him, and finished off his food.
They ended up going for a walk first. The housekeeper had put together a lunch for them, though Javert did not know what she had packed, and dreaded finding out. He enjoyed walking beside Madeleine though. The man had lent him a coat to go over his shirt, but the inspector wore his own boots.
The air was cold, and he could see his own breath. Several people greeted the mayor as they walked along, a few commenting that it looked like it may snow. Javert kept his thoughts to himself on this. He hated the snow. It made chasing criminals difficult, and he had to waste money on heating his room. Madeleine laughed with those he spoke with, and stated that he hoped the pond would not freeze this year. He explained as the two men carried on that last year ice had covered the pond, and several young men had decided to try impressing the Mademoiselles they wanted to court by trying to skate. The ice had not been thick enough, and instead of causing a good impression they simply caught a fever.
Javert could not help chuckling along with the other. His eyes twinkled in an unusual, but terribly attractive manner when he did and Javert like the look greatly.
"Shall we sit down over here and eat?" Asked Madeleine.
"Outside, monsieur?"
"Why not, my good man? Why not?"
Javert could not object, so they both sat down upon a bench and opened the knapsack with their food in it. The baguettes had been wrapped carefully. They were filled with cheese and a cooked meat Javert could not identify. He nibbled at the end of it, not really wanting to eat, but not wanting to disappoint Madeleine.
He watched as a young gamin of an unidentifiable gender shuffled close to an elderly woman. He hoped the child would not have sticky fingers, but then again, chasing someone down would help him avoid eating. His lunch may get dropped on the ground, after all. If he spilt his filling then perhaps the mayor would only make him eat the bread.
"Have you always wanted to be a policeman?"
"Excuse me?" the question was unexpected, and Javert turned his attention from the gamin to the mayor.
"You seem to constantly watch out for law breakers. I was just wondering if this was always so."
"I... started out as a prison guard."
"Really? Did you enjoy it?"
"Enjoy it?" what an odd question. "Not really."
"Why not?" Ah, the mayor must have decided to start his 'getting to know each other' stage.
"The man in charge, Pascal, he did not like me. I do not think he trusted me."
"How could he not trust you? You are one of the most honest men I have ever met." It was said with a smile, and Javert smiled slightly, taking the opportunity to put his food down, his stomach feeling nauseous already.
"Thank you, monsieur. But, I was suspected of helping one of the prisoners in their attempt to escape about two years after I came there." He tried to keep a blank expression, but the incident still hurt.
He had been just twenty when he had started to work at Toulon prison, and there had been two prisoners he had liked: 24601, or Valjean, a man who claimed he was being too harshly punished for a small crime, and 23998, or Mercier, a man who kept a smile on his face, an honest tongue in his head, and worked hard to do ask he was told. Mercier had always been kind to him, even though he was a guard and the man a convict. He had told Javert on many occasions not to worry for him, that being in jail would not change him. A man's true heart was not easily changed, despite being surrounded by such corruption. The man had proven correct, and he had been released and rejoined the community.
Valjean, he had thought, was another good man who would not be corrupt by the scum of Toulon. If men were not so easily changed though, Valjean must have started out bad. He had gotten close to Javert slowly, over months, over years. When Javert had been twenty two, Valjean had used Javert's distraction around him to escape. He had knocked the young guard out and run.
It hurt, but it taught Javert a lesson. Bad men did not turn good, and there were very few good men in Toulon. He never made the mistake of getting close to a prisoner again.
"What happened?" The mayor's voice was soft, curious.
"He... got close. I dropped my guard and he knocked me out. He was recaptured, and I was severely reprimanded for it."
"You were reprimanded for it?"
"Yes. I had my pay dock, and I received a lashing." Madeleine gave him a horrified look. Javert realised he probably did not understand the lashing part.
"I was in Toulon as a child, monsieur. My mother was a convict and I was raised there." He tried to decide how best to explain what he wanted to say, "Pascal was a guard there at the time. Not in command, but still pretty high up, I think. He took it upon himself to beat the convicts' children, to make sure we knew right from wrong. I guess... that when he saw me making mistakes as a guard, years on, he decided to do the same thing."
"He beat you? He was allowed? I do not understand. Why did he do so, and why did you not live with your Father instead?"
"Oh, my father was in Toulon, sir." Javert snorted slightly, "In fact, he was still there when I began as a prison guard. In the absence of a present father figure, Pascal felt a need to fill the roll. I received a lashing, I suppose, because he still saw me as a gypsy child, and no one was there to object."
"Surely, you objected?"
"Of course, but I hardly counted as a voice of authority, monsieur." Madeleine continued to look at him in horror. It made Javert uncomfortable. He picked up his baguette, picking at the bread in the hopes the mayor would stop gaping at him.
It worked, and Javert let out a sigh of relief. He threw the bits of bread in his fingers to the ground; perhaps the birds would enjoy it. He settled down and turned his gaze to the sky. The money as a prison guard had been less than it was as a police officer, but he had not had to pay for a room. There had been rooms for the guards to sleep in. He would have liked to stay there, but Pascal had been succeeded by an even worse man when he retired, so Javert had only been there about 12 years in total before he had had to escape.
This was a good job now though. He even had a friend, though; maybe the mayor was slightly more than a friend? Did men kiss each others' faces? He was not sure.
"Eat. Do not let all that end up on the floor."
He fixed a scowl at the man, but complied, putting a piece on his tongue, feeling its weight in his mouth. He felt sick again, but Madeleine was smiling at him, so he would keep going.