Javert was resting in the armchair by the fire. Valjean was stood by the kitchen door enjoying the sight. The inspector was trying to read through the day's reports, but his eyes were drooping, and he kept dozing off. Valjean particularly enjoyed it when the man's head hit his chest and he jerked awake again.
He had not expected such an enjoyment, especially not in watching the man try to work. He was waiting for the point where Javert curled up and slept properly. He seemed so like a cat, settled in front of the fire, that Valjean was sure it would happen at any moment.
Their day together had given Valjean some interesting things to think. They had spent the whole afternoon walking around the park. It had started to snow, the little flurries of white swirling through the air, dropping the temperature that last bit. They had spent a foolish amount of time outside, watching the snow, watching the dirt of the streets covered with a blanketing white fluff.
Beautiful. It had been beautiful. Javert had tipped his head back and allowed the snowflakes to fall onto his face, those delicate drops sitting for a moment, then melting. Despite the pain in the man's face, left over from their luncheon conversation, he had been beautiful. Valjean had wanted to kiss him, but they had been out on the street, and he knew Javert would not allow any form of public affection.
He smiled, and walked over to kneel in front of Javert. He took the papers that were slipping from his hands and put them to the back of the chair, out the way of the fire. He gasped Javert's hands in his own and pulled the man forwards.
The mayor would have liked to bring up dinner, to ask Javert if he would share a meal. He knew he would be rejected, so he kept the soup that was warming up in the kitchen to himself. Javert would be eating, but he was not going to receive a choice in the matter.
However, the man foiled his plan by slumping forwards against him, the soft puffs of breath that fell on Valjean's neck indicating he was asleep. The mayor just smiled. He shifted on the floor, pulling his inspector more fully into his lap. Javert did not stir.
"My dear Javert, you need to wake up."
"Hmm..." Javert snuffled and rubbed his cheek against Valjean's collar.
"Please, Javert. Come and sit at the table with me." Maybe the man would manage a few mouthfuls of soup, but he would just concentrate on getting the man to the kitchen first. "Javert?"
"Table... Sure..." Javert shifted so he was kneeling too, and then began to push himself up. His sleepy blue eyes blinked up at Valjean, and the mayor heart clenched tightly. He would do anything to get this man back to the tough, no nonsense law keeper he was meant to be.
They shuffled over to the table, and while Javert sat heavily down in the thick chair at corner, Valjean picked up 3 cups and a bowl. He filled two of the cup with water from the jug that sat covered in the pantry, and he placed them on the table, one in front of Javert. He filled the remaining cup and the bowl with soup.
Placing the cup of soup in front of Javert, and putting the bowl on the table, he sat down for his dinner. He put his hands together and spoke his thanks before turning his attention to the man beside him.
"Javert. Please, finish both your cups."
The man frowned at him, but sipped at his water. Valjean chose not to start up an argument straight away, he would wait till he had eaten; he would give Javert a chance to eat. They sat in silence; the mayor slowly making his way through the soup before him, the inspector slowing drinking his water.
"Soup, please." He successfully kept the frustration out of his voice. However, the man needed to eat; if he lost much more weight he would need his great coat to prevent being blown away with every gust of wind.
Javert sighed quietly, but began to sip quietly at his soup, eyes shut as though he could not bear to look at food.
In the end, Javert did not manage to finish the cup of soup, but he did not seem queasy after getting through what he had eaten. Afterwards though, Javert seemed to wake up and gather energy. He unpacked his few belongings that he had picked up from his room after lunch.
They spent the next few hours playing a board game Javert owned, called The Soldier's Game, which he had learnt during one of his first posts, in Giverny. He discovered in the course of the evening, while he was trying to get his hare counter past Javert's hound counters, that Javert had spent a few years at Toulon, and then requested a transfer to somewhere else, before getting moved back to Toulon.
He had apparently really enjoyed being a guard, but was too uncomfortable working with Pascal. He had left once before returning to a job he had enjoyed; several times he had wanted to leave again, but he had been comfortable there, knowing what to expect and knowing what the trouble he had to deal with there was.
At the end of the day, when he could hear a cat while he was staring at the board, their game long since finished. He jumped slightly at the noise, glancing around the room. The fire had died to a soft glow, and in it he could see Javert slumped over once again in the arm chair, his face hidden in shadow.
"Javert?" He whispered. "Are you awake?"
"I'm trying not to be sick." Came back the response. Valjean frowned slightly.
"Let's get you settled better. Maybe once you get some proper sleep you will be fine."
He stood, stretching his back and then he helped Javert up to his feet. Javert swayed slightly, his eyes drooping sleepily, and Valjean gave in to the temptation of kissing his nose. The inspector chased his lips, giving him a firmer kiss, deepening it, allowing his tongue to move around the other mouth.
"Sleep, my dear man. Let us say our prayers and get some sleep." Javert quirked an eyebrow at him, but led the way to the mayor's bedroom. Once there, the two men changed into night shirts quickly before kneeling down before the bed, in the glow of the two candles in the silver holders, to speak to God.
Valjean spent a relaxing night on his back, with Javert's head resting on his shoulder, finding the man's presence to be a warmth in the winter night. Javert slept the night, bothered by nightmares but he managed to keep his food down. It seemed oddly, like a successful night.