A/N: Enjoy some comic relief- I have a lot in store for our favorite characters.

Éponine looked up from her copy of Romeo and Juliet. It was her second night in the Enjolras household, and despite the many rooms in the large house, she picked the study as her favorite. It was a cozy little room, with a grand mahogany desk in one corner and a plump sofa in the other. The sofa's arm was wide enough to serve as a table, and it was situated right beneath the window that looked out to the backyard. At sunrise, one could see the New York skyline stenciled against the sun.

Coincidentally, Enjolras' favorite room was also the study. He didn't want to kick her out of the only room that she seemed to really take to, and yet her constant humming was an unwelcome distraction from his homework.

Gavroche loved the game room, and badgered Enjolras to buy a twelve-pack Dr. Pepper for the mini fridge. It was a 10-year-old's heaven. That second night, Gavroche had crashed from his sugar high around seven in the evening, leaving only Éponine and Enjolras awake and working. However, as Éponine viewed from her spot on the couch, Enjolras cursed under his breath and stood up hurriedly, looking at his phone intently.

"Shit. I'm going to be late." He reached into one of the desk drawers and pulled out a drawstring bag. He dashed out the study and a confused Éponine heard the roaring engine as he drove away, the car's headlights temporarily flooding the study as he backed out.

She shrugged and went back to reading. It was a Friday night and he was pretty popular. He probably had places to be and people to see.

"Okay, this is first year stuff, Grantaire." She huffed in annoyance. "You have to conjugate 'avoir' or 'etre' and then you add the passé compose of the verb."

"I don't get it." He said, plainly. He ran a hand through his already messy hair. The two of them were spending their Saturday night studying. Or, at least attempting to.

"Of course you don't." Éponine sighed. "Remind me; why did I agree to tutor you again?"

"Because you can't resist my sexiness. Hey, does Apollo drink anything besides water?" Grantaire, ever focused on his goal, looked around as if a liquor cabinet would suddenly appear in the study. Éponine snorted.

"You never lose sight of what you want. If only you wanted to pass AP French." She said this and earned a playful knock over the head from Grantaire with his French-to-English dictionary.

"Now you're starting to sound like Enjolras." He took his papers and messily shoved them in his messenger bag. Once he managed to close the flap, he turned to Éponine and made a face, resting his chin on his hands in a mock-excited expression. "Do tell, Mademoiselle Jondrette. What's it like living with a marble statue?"

"Not too bad. He's got money, which is nice, and he doesn't bother me too much. Did you know that he doesn't eat Gluten? He's got some kind of disease or something. I think it's called-"

"Celiac's." Grantaire completed. "Sorry, continue."

"Anyway, the gluten-free cookies are actually really good. I think I've eaten an entire pack of the fake Oreos already. The only weird thing-" She started, but then she hesitated. Grantaire looked at her expectantly. "Never mind. It's nothing important."

"Éponine Evelyn Jondrette-"

"That's not my middle name."

"Do you realize how big this is? Enjolras never does anything even remotely weird. What did he do?" Grantaire leaned really close to Éponine, his face akin to that of a child on Christmas morning. She playfully shoved him back, crinkling her nose at the terrible stench of his breath.

"He left suddenly yesterday without a word besides, and I quote, 'I'm going to be late'. He probably just had a date or something." She said, and Grantaire shook his head, looking mesmerized.

"No, he didn't."

Just then, Enjolras came barging into the study. He looked up and met their eyes for a moment. "Is Grantaire actually doing something that doesn't involve a bottle?"

Éponine pretended that she didn't see the way her friend flinched at the blonde's harsh words. She spoke up instead; interrupting Enjolras from his intent search for what Éponine assumed was the bag from the night before. "Where are you going?"

He paused, for a moment looking genuinely frightened. "Um... Nowhere. Goodbye."

He left again, and once he did the two misfits on the couch shared a glance. "Well that was weird."

Éponine frowned, a crease appearing to the left side of her nose. "I wonder where he's going."

Grantaire smirked, his eyes wild. Then he stood up and rushed into the foyer, dragging the girl behind him. "GAVROCHE!"

"What are you doing?" She asked him, incredibly lost. He fished his car keys out of his pocket and waved them in front of her face.

"We're following him, of course."

Whatever the three of them were expecting, it sure as hell wasn't what they got. They followed Enjolras' car to a church a good ten miles away. They waited until he went inside before they got out of the car and followed him. Grantaire led the way inside, caught off guard by the crowd in the small lobby. None of them paid attention to what they were buying tickets for, but they found themselves ushered into a high-budget theatre. It was once they sat in the back that Éponine asked him, "Where is he?"

Grantaire shrugged as Gavroche nudged her shoulder. "Ép, I found him…"

Grantaire practically threw himself on Éponine's lap to get a look at what the boy was pointing to. It was the program that only Gavroche thought to pick up. The brochure read, 'Hairspray!'. On the first page was a list of the main cast members, and Enjolras' picture was among the list. However, there was no list of roles, so the three sat in eager anticipation as they waited for the curtain to rise.

Thirty minutes later, Grantaire murmured what both he and Éponine were thinking. "I'm way too sober for this."

Enjolras was cast in a drag role; he was playing Edna Turnblad.

They were never going to let him live this down.

At intermission, Éponine grabbed Grantaire's phone and dialed Enjolras' number. He picked up on the third ring and his voice was hushed. "Grantaire, I'm too busy for your drunken rants about Greek Gods."

"Enjolras, this is Éponine." She made her voice shaky and hit Grantaire's arm when he started giggling at her somber tone.

"What's wrong?" He asked, suddenly sounding worried. "Has something happened? Are you okay? What about Gavroche?"

Éponine, although flattered that she was the first person he thought of, continued on her act. "There... There's someone in the house. I'm scared! It's an intruder and I'm sure of it!"

Grantaire had collapsed to the ground, tears streaming from his eyes as he clutched his sides in silent laughter.

"Éponine... Have you called 911? Where's Grantaire?" His voice was frantic, and she could hear people shushing him on his line.

"What will 911 think of two random kids in your house? And Grantaire's drunk. Please hurry, Enjolras. I'm really scared." She put as much sarcasm as she could into her last sentence, but he didn't catch on, and he cursed.

"Shit. I'll be right there. Don't move, okay? I'm coming." He almost yelled into the phone; there was a click as he hung up. Sure enough, a desperate Enjolras broke curtain, struggling to pull a sweatshirt over his fat suit. He tripped over Grantaire's body and sprawled in the isle. He pulled the sweatshirt over his head, and he muttered an apology to Grantaire. When he yanked the cloth so that his face was visible, he saw the three of them by copious amounts of laughter.

"You're… EDNA TURNBLAD." Éponine wheezed, and Enjolras glared at her from underneath his blond curls.

"Haha, very funny. Let's get Enjolras kicked out of the only think he's ever loved." He snapped, and Grantaire offered him a hand to get up. Enjolras slapped the other boy's hand away and stood on his own, glowering the entire way up.

"We're never going to forget this, you now." Gavroche piped up, and Enjolras sighed in defeat.

"After the show I'll buy pizza and ice-cream." He offered, his icy eyes, for once, a little panicked.

"Make it Chinese take-out and chocolate and you've got a deal." Éponine smirked, and the two shook hands.

She tried to ignore the sharp tingle she felt in her fingers when they touched. Little did she know that Enjolras felt the same thing.

A/N:I don't know why, but I actually like this chapter... ;)

Sorry about the rant in my last A/N... I was PMSing and that made me in a bad mood (amongst other things. A lot of other things) *shrugs* C'est la vie.

And about the review thing... As a dear reader pointed out (bringing me back to reality... You know who you are unless you decided to stick true to your word and stop reading), I shouldn't be writing solely for reviews. But they make me feel good, ya know? I know for a fact that I'll read something and not review, thinking that it won't make a difference to the author. I'm a little bit of a hypocrite in this respect, but I just thought I'd let you know how much it brightens my day to see that little "new review" email alert. :)

For the sake of my embarrassment and shame, I'll probably go back and erase that A/N. So if you're new to the story and didn't read it, you're lucky.

ANYWAY. Did anyone catch the How I Met Your Mother reference? Or the reference to my other fic, 'History in the Making'? (Shamelessly promoting my other story... Like a boss)