Hey guys! Warning: Some adult themes in this chapter. Not that bad, but heavily implied. Also, sorry for the long wait for this chapter. It was very challenging for me to write...and i'm still not very pleased with it, but it was the best i could do. Regardless, hope you all enjoy!

XXXI: Break the Walls

Javert felt her searching hands trail up and press against his chest. He wondered if she could feel the small velvet box he carried on the inside of his coat…Javert rarely left home without it. Her fingertips swirled around his many buttons and he closed his eyes and sighed when she pulled away and held his face in her hands, her pinky fingers sliding below his jaw. Opening his eyes, he regarded her, ducking his head a little to see into her eyes.

He watched as she bit her lip. "You probably think I'm disgusting right now, dirty and wearing the clothes of a man," she gave him a smile. The corners of Javert's mouth curled upwards when the gold of her chuckle warmed his stomach. He shook his head and let her go, his arms falling to his sides as he neared his desk.

"No," he said, glancing up at her before he leaned over and shuffled some papers. "You look like you."

Aimée rolled her eyes, "Is that supposed to be a compliment or insult?"

"Observation," Javert said, folding up some papers in a leather portfolio and pushing in his chair. "You never looked comfortable in dresses…at least from what I remember."

Javert had never felt this comfortable around another human being. He noted how strange it was, not seeing her for so many years, and yet they still interacted as if it were only yesterday they had lost each other. However, he didn't dare kiss her or touch her…after all this time who knew how she had changed. Her words rang in his head, "I love you so much, even now."

He would try to be patient. Javert would try to wait.

Aimée watched him move about his office, so particular and neat. She reached back and drew her braid over her shoulder, fiddling with the tail as she bit the inside of her cheek. She was painfully aware of how attractive he was to her. Those shoulders, that strong jaw, those eyes…everything about him was perfect.

"Can I show you my shop?" Aimée blurted, nearing his desk and watching him.

He looked up, curious.

"I should really go back on patrol."

"Please?" she begged, even clasping her hands and bringing them up to her chin. She widened her eyes and acted like a begging puppy.

"Don't do that," Javert said, his brow furrowing. Still, his heart had melted.

The chin began to tremble and Javert groaned, rolling his eyes. Aimée just about burst out laughing seeing him act that way. She had missed him so much…she felt so happy.

"It would make me happy, Mattieu" she murmured, giving him one last look.

Javert's jaw set. "Fine."

She used his first name like a spell.

Aimée gave a squeal of excitement and beamed at him as he straightened his jacket and headed towards the door. Aimée shivered when his body moved past her. She followed him closely, catching a whiff of wood smoke, shoe polish, and musk. She gave a faint smile and slipped out the door behind him. When it was closed, Javert led her down the massive hallway.

"How far is it?" he asked when he saw his horse waiting at the bottom of the Palais steps, its head hung as it patiently waited for him. The courtyard and extending street was empty.

"About a mile and a half," Aimée said, moving past him and inspecting the huge Friesian. "Ombre's no longer your horse?"

Javert's eyes grew sad as he put a hand to the Friesian's black neck. "No…he grew too old."

"He was a good horse," Aimée said, remembering the blue roan's shining eyes and black mane.

"So is this one."

Aimée nodded. Javert came around and helped her on the horse's back. He pulled himself up behind her. Javert reached around her waist and grabbed hold of the reigns, steering the huge animal back out the gates. Aimée felt electrified as she felt the brush of his chest against her back and the warmth of his legs against hers.

At this point, Javert didn't care if another officer saw him with Aimée. He didn't care at all. All that mattered to him was the fact that he could be close to her again. Feel the warmth of her body on his arms when he reached around her to steer the horse. His breath hitched when he felt her lean in to him, the curve of her spine aligned with the row of buttons that extended down his jacket. She smelled faintly of flowers beneath the grubbiness of her.

"It's just this way," Aimée said after a while, pointing down a narrow street, the lamps casting a dull orange in the night. The horse plodded onwards. Javert felt a searching warm spread across the back of one of his hands. He let go of the reigns and spread his fingers. Aimée's slid between his with ease, as if it belonged there. Javert closed his eyes and brought his head forward, allowing him to press the side of his jaw to her temple. The smoothness of her skin against his face felt like the kiss of an angel.

"Right there," Aimée said, snapping him back to attention. She slid off the horse and Javert momentarily missed her warmth. He followed and tied up the horse on one of the posts outside the shop. He watched Aimée unlock the door. He couldn't see inside because the windows were blocked with curtains. However, it seemed larger than the store she had in Montreuil, with a second and third story above it.

The door chimed quietly when she opened it and slipped inside. Javert followed, a little stiff and uncomfortable. The idea of inappropriateness began to gnaw at his conscience when he assessed the situation. A beautiful young woman, alone with him in her shop, at night…in private….

"Are you coming?" Aimée asked, stabbing away his reservations when she poked her head out the door and looked at him quizzically.

He cleared his throat and nodded, striding inside with his hands clasped behind his back. The door closed behind him and Aimée turned the lock, the tumblers falling in place.

"Well…right," Aimée said, waving a hand through the air as she walked around. "This is my shop! Bigger than before…I have a flat up top," she exclaimed, pointing to the ceiling. "Want to see?"

Javert swallowed. "I'm not sure if that would be entirely appropriate, Aimée…"

She crossed her arms, not pleased with his words. "I'm not a child any more, Javert. Far from it. We're two adults. Who cares about appropriateness?"

I do… Javert thought to himself.

"Please…it's been nine years…I want to show you my life."

Her words were quiet, soft, and pleading. Javert's eyes fell on hers and all of his self-control was lost in her eyes. He was beginning to realize that Aimée had complete power over him she didn't realize. It would've usually bothered Javert, powerlessness wasn't something he was too fond of. However, when he looked at her, even when her face was splotched with grubbiness, he decided he didn't mind.

"Alright," he finally said.

Aimée smiled at him and took his hand in hers, leading him to the stairs. They climbed in silence, their fingers entwined. Upstairs, Javert found himself in a neat little hallway. She had kept it lit in her absence, the lanterns glowing yellow-orange in the darkness.

"This is the kitchen," Aimée explained, tugging him into the room directly to their left. It was large enough, with a hearth for cooking and baking, wash basin, counter, and table. "Only bad thing is that I have to get my water from downstairs, but I manage alright," Aimée said, shrugging as they moved on.

Next was the study, her own little desk with papers and finances for her shop, then after that, the hall opened up into a large living room. A sofa and two armchairs sat in front of a fireplace with a red and gold Persian rug lying on the floorboards. Two book shelves stood flanking the fireplace and the wall in front of them housed three large windows, their cream-colored curtains drawn over the glass. She led him to the back corner of the living room where the foot of another staircase climbed upwards.

"And up here are the bedrooms," Aimée said, proud of the home she owned. "This is my room." The door opened to reveal a large bed with cream and gold bed covers. Another rug sat at the foot of the bed and paintings lined the walls. Most of them were landscapes, mountains, fall forests ablaze in reds and yellows, and the crashing ocean. She had more books in her room and lamps lining the walls.

"There's food in the kitchen," Aimée said turning to Javert, "Please, help yourself…but excuse me a moment while I change and clean up a bit."

Javert gave her a nod and turned to the door.

"Javert, wait," Aimée called after him. He froze and turned to face her. She was biting her lip, "You won't leave, will you?"

"No, mademoiselle."

Her smile shined when he turned and headed back to the second story.

Javert was sitting quietly in the kitchen when she found him. She was laced up in a plain gray day dress and her hair was unbraided and damp over her shoulder, the water from her locks turning the fabric dark. Her face was clean, free of dirt and dust, glowing in the gloominess of her house. Aimée hid behind the wall for a moment, watching Javert sit at her table. He hadn't helped himself to the bread that was sitting on her counter, but instead just sat and waited patiently for her to return. Aimée enjoyed looking at him sit in her very own kitchen.

"You weren't hungry?" she finally asked, coming from her hiding place.

Javert turned and looked when he heard her voice. His jaw slackened when he saw her, glowing from her wash, even more beautiful than he ever could've imagined.

"What?" Aimée asked, noticing the way he had stared.

"Nothing," Javert quickly said, blinking away, embarrassed.

Aimée smiled, "Remember when we were at my house in Montreuil and we shared bread?" she asked, going to the loaf and bringing it to the table.

"Yes."

"You told me your name and your age then," Aimée said, giving him a mischievous smile as she ripped the loaf in half. She propped her chin on her hand and looked at him, biting out of her piece. "Mattieu Javert."

His face was stone, "That's right."

"Come on, why so somber?" Aimée asked, standing up giving him a look.

"I'm not being somber," Javert countered.

Aimée huffed and ripped off a piece of bread, "Here, eat something." She held it up to his mouth. Her nearness smelled of lilacs and vanilla, and it made Javert's head spin.

"I'm not hungry," he said, holding up his hands apologetically.

"Come on, if I keep this any longer it'll stale," Aimée insisted, "Just open your mouth."

"You aren't going to feed me like a child, Aimée."

She raised her eyebrows, but her hand didn't stop hovering in front of his mouth. Finally, he huffed and his brows furrowed together, but he opened his mouth. Aimée popped the bread inside and gave a laugh.

"That wasn't worth all the fuss," she laughed, bringing a hand to her mouth. Javert couldn't help but smile and chuckle as well. They both started laughing, loudly and strongly, their faces growing rosy from mirth. Javert felt so light, so happy. Laughter flowed around them like a warm curtain, wrapping them in the joy of reunion.

Before he knew what was happening, Javert was silenced when Aimée boldly leaned forward and pressed her lips to his without warning. He was surprised at first, but when the heat of her kiss melted through his lips, he stood, his eyes fluttering closed and his hand reaching up to cradle her face. She looped her arms around his waist, her small hands splayed against his sides. She tasted like honey and mint and fresh baked bread. Nine years of craving her flared up inside him and Javert grew bolder than he would've normally dared. He reached away from her face and her arms looped around his neck in response. As easily as lifting a babe, Javert lifted her and his head spun when he felt her legs loop around him, supporting herself up.

Javert sat Aimée down on the counter and she sat taller than him. He lifted his head to her intoxicating mouth and he felt her shiver when he traced his tongue along her bottom lip. Their mouths opened to each other and Aimée brought her hands to his face and trailed her fingers over his skin and into his short, peppered hair. Javert reached down and laid a large hand along the outside of her thigh, felling the strength of it beneath the skirts of her dress. She laughed against his lips and he smiled in return, letting his harsh, disciplined mine escape in the loving, comfortable feeling of want.

When Aimée broke away for air, she sighed when she felt Javert press a kiss to her neck, the bristles of his beard making her shiver. Closing her eyes, she brought a hand to the back of his head. A little sound escaped the back of her throat and Javert rumbled beneath her. She was so happy, so very happy. Javert slowed his advances, his lips pressing slowly to her skin. She felt his fingertips glide across the skin of her shoulders and the smoothness of her collarbone.

"Aimée," he said, the warm puff of his breath hot against her skin. "I never told you how I felt before you left."

He drew away from her and she gave a disappointed look to him. She looked down at his face, flushed from lust, his eyes glinting when he looked at her. He lifted his hand and graced the side of her face, running it over her skin and down her neck. Javert's eyes darted around her face, looking at her as if she was a piece of art. A guarded statue that he alone was permitted to touch. He pulled her to him and gave her a short kiss on the lips before he dug into his pocket.

Aimée's heart froze when she saw a little velvet box in his hand.

He looked at her, and his breath almost left him when she saw how perfect she was. Young, beautiful, and full of life. Eyes stormed like the ocean and her lips were slack from shock. Javert had to clear his throat before he could speak again.

"Aimée…when you stopped me in Toulon, your face muddy and flowers drooping in your hand, I knew my life had changed," Javert confessed, looking down and holding the box with both hands, as if it was a great, heavy package. "I saw you at that water fountain, crying and alone."

Aimée felt tears well up in her eyes when Javert started to speak of every meeting they had shared. He had remembered everything…everything that was said, everything that they had done.

"After Anton attacked you, I knew I would not be able to rest easily unless I knew you were safe. I was so angry when I saw what he did to you. I vowed to keep you safe then, as safe as I could."

He sniffed and Aimée realized that this was challenging for him to say. He had been closed off for so many years…guarded by the law and the attitude that it demanded from him. She reached out and cradled his face, willing him to go on.

"At Beaudet's parties…you were so beautiful. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that a woman, so young and perfect, would even bother to give me the time of day…but you, you gave me so much more."

Javert looked up at her and enclosed her hand in his. "The world has been cruel to the both of us, Aimée Lamenté. But, by the grace of God, we found each other." Javert opened the little velvet box and Aimée couldn't breathe when she saw the dark blue sapphire and diamond ring.

"Oh my god," she managed.

Javert gave her a timid smile that made her heart melt. "Aimée…even though I'm old and gray, harsh and boring will you make me happy? Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, leaping of the counter and slamming into his arms. They almost tumbled over, but Javert was strong as he held her up, burying his face in her hair. She felt him laugh, his chest rumbling against hers and happy tears burned in her eyes. Aimée broke away and kissed him, smiling against his lips. When they broke away, he slid the ring onto her finger. Then, he took her hand and kissed it, looking up at her.

"I won't ever leave you again," he vowed, his voice a deep murmur. He reached forward and wiped away the gentle tears with his thumb. "I love you, Aimée Lamenté."

She sniffed, smiled, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you too, Mathieu Javert." Aimée allowed him to lean into her and she fluttered her eyes shut when he kissed her gently. Javert's lips moved slowly against hers, reveling in the moment and allowing himself to be swept away.

Aimée felt Javert advance and she let him lead her. The edge of the counter pressed against her lower back and she gave a sly smile against his lips. Aimée broke away from him and stopped for a breath. Javert watched her, panting slightly, his nose brushing against hers. Aimée leaned over and kissed his jaw, feeling the roughness of his beard and decided she liked the way it tickled her nose. She felt Javert lift his head and swallow, the Adam's apple in his neck bobbing. Biting her lip, Aimée grew bold as she reached out to try and undo the button of his stiff, high collar. Javert cocked his head to the side, slightly amused as he watched her fiddle with the collar. He lifted his hands and enclosed them around hers, pulling her away.

"I don't think that's a very good idea," he murmured, running her thumbs along her knuckles.

Her brow furrowed and she frowned at him. "You're my fiancé now," she said bluntly, slipping her hand away from his and reaching back to undo the collar. "Trust me."

It seemed to Javert that Aimée's smile was anything but trustworthy and he grew nervous when the collar opened. However, he felt himself sigh and his eyes closed when her fingers timidly searched over his skin, leaving little dots of heat with every caress. She placed a peck on his lips and began undoing the rest of the buttons of his jacket. Javert felt his hands start to shake nervously and he stared at the ring that hugged her finger to try and calm himself. He shrugged out of his coat and watched as Aimée tossed it on the table.

She looked at him, clad in a thin undershirt of spun cotton. It didn't cling to his body tightly, but instead hung from his form before it was tucked into his trousers. Aimée watched his chest rise and fall and she felt his hands softly rise to rest on her waist. Not able to stop herself, Aimée pressed her hands to his chest, the muscles hard beneath her palm. The thump of Javert's heart pounded against her fingers and Aimée stepped nearer when Javert pulled her gently from her waist.

Aimée's voice shook when she spoke to him. "Will you…will you come upstairs?" She was just as nervous as he was. She was a grown woman in her thirties, she was full aware of what happened in upstairs bedrooms at night, even participated once or twice, but this was different. Her heart was invested… she was with a man she loved with every fiber of her being.

Aimée shivered when Javert ran his hand over her hair, taking a strand and fiddling with it. Her words had shocked him, but he couldn't deny the heat that seared deep inside his body when her hands spread along his chest. Her wide blue eyes stared in to his and, throwing caution to the wind, he scooped her up and held her as if she weighed nothing at all. Aimée's body curled against his chest and she leaned up to kiss him as he moved out of the kitchen and into the hall.

Javert found her room easily enough…even half blinded by Aimée's kisses, he had remembered the layout of the house. Her arms looped around his neck when he closed the door behind him and walked forward until the soft edge of her bed pressed against his legs. Javert gently laid her down, his hands still trembling slightly. He was worried he would hurt her, worried that she would break at the smallest touch.

"Aimée…are you sure-" he began, but his words were cut short when she placed her hands on his face, one thumb gracing over his cheek and the other moving over the softness of his lips.

Aimée stood and Javert backed away from the bed, his eyes searching her face, brows furrowed as if he was analyzing something he didn't understand. He looked so lost to Aimée, and that made her love him even more. She moved her hands to his waist and gently took hold of the fabric of his shirt. Pulling slightly, the cotton became un-tucked and Aimée gently pulled upwards. Javert took it from her and pulled it off, letting it drop to the floor.

She knew Javert was strong, she could remember how solid his body was underneath the coat whenever she was close to him. Still…she was surprised when she looked at the muscles of his body, the dusting of hair across his upper chest, the curved strength of his shoulders. Aimée took hold of his upper arms and gently turned so the bed pressed against the back of Javert's legs. He sat, his eyes never leaving her face when Aimée trailed her fingers over his bare shoulders. Javert's pale-green eyes were still questioning and Aimée smiled at him.

"Don't worry…I'm sure…."