AN: I found a really helpful map yesterday, showing Paris around 1800. For any interests: map/1800

Unfortunately, she'll only met Enjolras next chapter, they just get too long...I think it's always harder reading that way.

And again, the dialogue in the beginning is partly copied from 'Eponine's Errand'.

Have fun reading and please leave a comment!

Greets, Catharina

II. Gavroche

„Éponine? Éponine!"

Only tardy she realised somebody calling her name. Too many thoughts at once were fighting for her attention. She clearly heard the man's whispered words in her mind."Come, Cosette! Quickly!"

But could that even be possible? Alouette, here in Paris and that well? Éponine had never wasted another thought to the scrawny, dirty girl, disappearing one night with a man and the doll she had wanted so much. But now Cosette seemed contented, healthy and rich – she felt the torn dress heavy and reproachful hanging on her own body.

Winking she looked up and turned around. Marius was coming towards her. „Éponine!", he gasped again. His breath was heavy. „Who was that girl?"

She squinted to force back the tears and looked at him in nonchalance. „Some bourgeois two-a-penny thing."

„Éponine!" He grasped her arms strongly and she couldn't help but feel her breath quickening, his face that near next to hers. If she leaned forward…

He shook her nearly desperately. „Find her for me!"

She gave a little laugh, more affected than honestly amused. „What will you give me?"

„Anything!"

She smirked. She knew exactly what she would wish – but then she remembered his mission: To go find another girl!

She shrugged her shoulders. „Got you all excited now, God knows what you see in her! All delighted now, right?" Only then she realised he wasn't even listening but rummaging absently in his pockets. „No! I don't want your money, Sir!" she revolted.

He looked at her helplessly. „Éponine, do this for me. Discover where she lives."

She turned away, already going. Of what help was any protest here? But he retained her. „Be careful how you go. And don't let your father know!"

She couldn't resist feeling that ridiculous spark of hope rising. But – „'Ponine, I'm lost until she's found!" He left without another word and disappeared.

Éponine was left alone.

She wandered around in indecision, aimlessly. Why would she take this mission? For Marius' sake, maybe that was reason enough, but what would help winning his favour if he was about to give it to another woman?

Even now she hadn't shed one of the tears blinding her vision. She wasn't paying attention where she was going, she wandered through the streets, lost in thoughts.

„'Ponine!" She cringed. Someone appeared at her side. It was Gavroche, his brownish hair too long and too dirty falling down to his shoulders. He laughed proudly when he noticed her wincing and showed a mouth full of tooth spaces.

„What have 'ey done to you to get ya that scared?" he grinned but it was friendly bantering.

This time she wasn't caught with his humour. She shrugged. „Dunno."

„What'ya doin'?"

„Nothing."

„Well, it doesn't look like nothin'."

She rolled her eyes. As much as his optimistic attitude brightened her up on other days, it annoyed her now. „Oust! Get lost if you need someone to bother."

He actually turned around to leave, but Éponine stopped him immediately. „Wait, Gavroche", she conflicted herself. If there was a nasty task to do for Marius she could at least get someone's help. This way she would at least have pretence to see him. „I'm searching for someone."

Scenting the challenge his little face lit up. For a second he reminded her so strongly of their father, who had thrown his oldest son out early. He had promised Gavroche a better life on his own and sometime she considered whether he had been right.

„An' who do I have to find? You know somebody it's easy to steal from?" He made a thievish gesture.

Éponine shook her head. „No. It's a girl – woman, whatever."

Gavroche looked disappointed. „I don't do that." He seemed indignant.

Éponine stopped in their cautious walk along the streets and leaned downwards, face to face with the little boy. „Please. It's important."

„What's with that girl anyway?" He crossed his arms sullenly.

She swallowed hard before answering. „Marius asked me for her."

„The Bourgeois? Well – how much's in for me?" He held out his hand, questioning."I need food too."

„You'll get everything."

Gavroche hesitated for a moment, but seemed satisfied. He knew about Marius' generous pays. „D'accord. What'ya know about her?"

Éponine hated every thought about Alouette, but forced herself to remember the details of the short glance she had taken at her. „Her name's Cosette, she's probably with an old man. And she's rich. Blonde, light skin. Beautiful." She almost spat the last word.

Gavroche didn't notice anything. Quickly he remembered all the details given. „I will hurry, ma sœur. Looking forward to dinner." He gave her a breathy kiss on her cheek and walked down the streets. Éponine's eyes followed him until he turned into an alley and wasn't seen anymore.

The thought of dinner made her feel her hunger again. Lost in her mind she had abandoned the idea of eating for a while but with Gavroche's mention of it the feeling was more present than ever. Again and again she bent in painful cramps.

She felt her inner organs pucker deciding for a robbery. There wasn't any other option and since the attack at the market had failed she would have to look after herself this night.

It wasn't the bad conscience making her feel unwell. She had understood and accepted long ago she had to live on cost of others and didn't feel guilty anymore about that. What other option did she have?

But every robbery came with an uneasy feeling before she hated, moments when there was yet no adrenaline rushing through her veins.

She saw the sun already heading west arriving at Place de la Bastille. The round square was framed with the wealthy bourgeoisie's mansions. Sunlit cafés were manned with costly dressed people, drinking their coffee in tiny draughts. The smell of late lunch and freshly baked cake filled the air, watering her mouth with expectation. Across the square the giant elephant statue rose over the crowd and for a second she imagined Gavroche's cry echoing across the place. Inside the statue, inside the hollow cavity, he lived with two other little boys he had picked up from the street someday.

She was grateful for the crowd. The place being as empty as the street artists painted them would have drawn a lot more attention to her.

She pressed through perfumed, sweaty bodies, silk and luxurious wool whenever she touched something. Gladly she would have held her head up high where the air was still fresh, but she kept her view down. With trained eyes she peeked for open coat pockets, listened for jingling change and tried to feel whenever she got the chance for wallets in light summer cloaks.

She felt her heart beating dull when passing a tall man's coat. She heard metal, clinking together and it seemed to smell like the expensive meals served in the restaurants around her.

She didn't hesitate, with the next crush she let her hand slip into his pocket. Her fingers closed around coins, the money felt cool and heavy. She pulled back her arm, unnoticeable and shut her fist tightly around her tiny fortune. She couldn't tell whether the coins were worthy or just with little value, but she was sure it was more she earned on other days.

Her arms pressed to her body she began finding her way from crowd. She turned back sometimes, looking anxiously for the man she had stolen from, but he had disappeared long ago in this sea of colourful hats and tall wigs.

Nevertheless she only lost her tension arriving at Boulevard Beaumarchais where she could use the little alleys. Again, it took her a while to get back to Saint-Michel but it was easier, knowing that dinner was waiting for her.

She came along the street at Maison Gorbeau where she lived with her family. Longingly she glanced at the mansion next to the uncomfortable barrack. Her eyes stopped at the window in the lowest floor, knowing it was the apartment Marius had lived long ago. It seemed so far away since he had moved there from his grandfather's house. It had been the time they had first met, Éponine on a mission for begging for money.

She shook her head to chase away the dark thoughts. For the first time since she had left the Place de la Bastille she allowed herself to look at her prey. Faithless she looked at the silvery coins lying innocently in her palm whereas she knew they could make such a difference in this world.

„Èponine!" She startled and heard the coin's clangour as they hit the pavement. Immediately her father was at her feet, picking up the little pieces.

„Père!" she protested but he had already taken most of the money.

„Looks like ya ain't all useless, chiard!" he snarred, kneeling on the ground. He laughed roughly.

„I earned that" she said with power and took a step towards him. But she had gone too far. Thénadier stroke out, leaving a burning, red heat spot on her cheek. Éponine raised her hand up to her face to protect it. She didn't refrain when Thénadier got up and moved towards the house.

She was close to crying when she noticed the little coin shining in the evening sun. One lonely sou her father had left on the street, untouched from his dirty fingers. With a small gleam of hope she picked it up.

„You've got your dinner – now where's mine?" Gavroche's brisk voice came from the dark before he stepped into a lantern's glow so Éponine could see him. She was surprised he had found her, hidden a few streets away of her home, sitting on a left carriage, yet on the other side she was sure Gavroche knew every street of Paris better than anybody else.

She smiled at her younger brother coming towards her. From her skirt's pocket she pulled one of the six brioches she had bought and gave it to him. „You'll get the rest when I'm paid." Until now she had maybe refused Marius' money but she was sure she could beg a few coins from him.

Gavroche took the soft little bread with unsure gesture and dug his teeth into it. He seemed surprised with the outraging quality, it was a pastry neither he nor Éponine were used to.

„Maman used to make them with orange blossoms", remembered Éponine watching Gavroche engulfing his brioche hurried like ever. She didn't miss the hopeful look he threw towards her pocket. She sighed and tossed him the last two breads – a novel gesture as she usually kept holding on to her food.

„Now - spit it out! What do you know?" Abruptly she changed the subject and looked at him severely. He raised his hand defensively, chewed and swallowed. „Seriously, you can't always be that impatient." Éponine, caught with his good mood gain, kicked after him. It was astounding, there was no other person in Paris she talked to like to her brother. Their relationship was just so easy – she couldn't remember ever fighting with him.

Gavroche swell bumptious as he climbed next to her onto the carriage. „Looks like we're talking about a Mademoiselle Fauchelevant. 'Think she's 17 or so. And she and her dear père…they stick to each other like honey."

„But what else?" Impatiently she struggled her hanging legs.

„They live at Rue Plumet, dieu, what a house!" He looked at her hopefully. „Will you go to your friend now and get my pay?"

„He' not my friend, Gavroche!", corrected Éponine even though it hurt accepting the sooth. „I'm just his messenger."

„Well, he does call you ‚Jondrette'", he replied, his eye brows raised.

She threw her hands towards the night sky. „That doesn't mean anything!" – Did it?

Gavroche shrug his shoulders. „If you say so. He's out of your range anyway." Bluntly he threw the genuine truth at her, making it even more painful. Éponine swallowed hard.

„I'm going to bed", she murmured, got up and walked towards the Maison Gorbeau. „Good night, Gavroche."

She cried herself to sleep that night.