The Everyday Fight

by astoryinred

The follow up to "Don't Mess With the Surgeon" and "The Quirkiest of Foundations". In which justice and parenthood hold a few surprises for the Amis and their extended family, particularly for Enjolras and Eponine.

23. Chapter 23

A/N: Thanks for the reviews!

Chapter 23: Battle Lines

As far as Bossuet is concerned, a quiet office as a good working environment is anathema. "This has gone too far Courf," he complains when he sees Feuilly pointedly ignoring Bahorel once again en route to the water cooler. "One day is enough, but several on end?"

Courfeyrac leans back dramatically in his seat before looking around to make sure that the rest of their colleagues are sufficiently engrossed in their work. "Time for an intervention." He holds out his fist. "Rock, paper, scissors. First to three, the one with lesser points gets to talk to Feuilly."

Bossuet pounds Courfeyrac's fist thrice. "That's settled," he says as he grabs a tumbler from his desk drawer. Knowing his luck he's not going to win this game anyway, and besides if the problem concerns some of Bahorel's more recent liaisons, then Courfeyrac would be in a better position to manage that end of the situation.

He's only halfway to the water cooler when he sees Feuilly walking back with a full mug in hand. "Come now to pull me aside?" Feuilly asks wryly as he stops in his tracks.

Bossuet merely laughs at having been so easily found out. "It's no secret that you've had Discord as your bedfellow for a while now."

"Not exactly," Feuilly says as he tips some of his water into Bossuet's tumbler. "Would Grantaire know if there is some Greek deity for Weariness? It's more because..." he trails off before taking a sip of water. "Officer Hooper deserves better than to be another notch in Bahorel's bedpost."

'She'd be a deep notch then,' Bossuet catches himself thinking, but he bats the thought away. It's just this sort of thinking that's part of the present problem. "I think if she was just that, she would have gone running by now."

"How would you be so certain?"

"We wondered the same thing about Florence, and look where she and Combeferre are now."

Feuilly rolls his eyes. "That's Combeferre. We're talking about Bahorel, the guy who used to say he had a revolving door into his bedroom. You'd think that at our age he'd quit that."

"Maybe this is why Karen is finally here. It's Fate." Bossuet merely smiles at Feuilly's disbelieving look. "You think it too."

"I just don't want his hormones throwing a wrench into our work. It's not often we have a good friend on the police force," Feuilly mutters before finishing the rest of his water. "I know how it looks, so I'll get it sorted with Bahorel. Today. You have my word."

"May all deities be praised," Bossuet says as he lifts his tumbler by way of making a toast.

When they return to the cubicles they find Bahorel handing over a bill to Courfeyrac. "Which of the pools did you lose now?" Feuilly asks.

"Gender and name," Bahorel grouses good-naturedly. "After the New Year, we'll be hanging around waiting for Ian Charles to be born."

Bossuet gapes at Enjolras, who is smirking as he types away on his laptop. "You're naming your kid after your law school professor?"

"He was the second person who convinced me to come back to the city after my stay in Port Town. After him," Enjolras replies, gesturing to Feuilly. "And he was an excellent teacher too."

"I remember. I hauled you off to his house so he could talk a bit more to you. Best reason to drive eight hours into the hills," Feuilly explains. "Surprised it wasn't you or Combeferre who did it."

"Because I was in a bit of a pickle at that time and Combeferre was starting residency. Besides someone here was being a bit incommunicado in those days," Courfeyrac chimes in as he pokes Enjolras.

"Well we're not going back to that," Enjolras remarks over the sound of the buzzer at the door. A moment later sharply dressed gentleman coolly strides in. "Good morning Mr. Magnussen. Is there anything we can do for you?"

Magnussen walks up to their cubicles, smiling as if he is surveying his personal realm. "You clearly have been expecting my visit, Attorney Enjolras."

"Perhaps with some prior announcement," Enjolras says. Bossuet can now see out of the corner of his eye how quickly his friend saves his work with just a few taps on the keyboard. "Please, take a seat."

"I do not intend to make this a long business meeting, Attorney," Magnussen answers. "A number of your associates have caused trouble for Mr. Bidault, one of our country's biggest names in the stock exchanges and telecommunications. The consequences, as you can see, have been unprecedented."

"What Mr. Bidault does outside of his office hours is not our particular concern. What happens to an under-aged immigrant being solicited and taken into an illegal contract is our concern-especially given the circumstances," Enjolras answers. "Therefore the charges against Mr. Bidault are also an unprecedented consequence."

"Your activities have affected the confidence ratings in our investors," Magnussen sneers. He surveys the corkboard that stands a few feet away and reaches out to twirl one of the pins there. "Matters of business are not your office's concern."

"Perhaps." Enjolras moves his seat away from his computer. "Matters of public relations, especially of this nature, aren't your Ministry's concern-unless there is a matter of regulations and business practice that has also come to your attention."

Magnussen laughs as he pulls another pin off the corkboard. "An astute conjecture. However, I am a businessman, an executive. Not a politician seeking office. Press relations are no matter to me, but efficiency and execution are. Your little detective show here is grime in the machine."

"The same could be said for illicit contracts and practices that will shortly undergo review by the Ministry of Labor and Employment." Enjolras puts his hands on the table. "Such hindrances could be easily prevented from the very beginning."

"I am not here to argue, I am here to negotiate. You are in no position to sue and deal with countersuing-and nor are your colleagues, family, and friends." Magnussen pauses in the middle of pulling out a pin just to look everyone in the eye. "It would be in your best interests to keep your eyes on the streets and back alleys, and away from my business."

The very way Magnussen says these words has Bossuet's hair standing on end, and he even sees Feuilly and Bahorel clench their fists, ready to deck this visitor if need be. Courfeyrac is already gritting his teeth, but Enjolras remains unfazed as he watches Magnussen's smile twist into something cold and cruel. "My apologies but this is an offer we should refuse. Until we've successfully seen these cases all the way to the verdict, then we are within our mandate," Enjolras says calmly.

"Do not toy with me. This is not a game for busybodies,' Magnussen warns. He pulls a last pin off the corkboard. "You will find my notice uncomfortable. We will meet again."

Bahorel makes an obscene gesture which prompts Feuilly to slap his hand even as Magnussen walks out. "It's official. We can now tell Jehan that there is a new circle of Dante's Inferno," Bahorel mutters as he rubs his palm.

"How did he even get into the Ministry last year?" Feuilly asks. "A man like that-"

"Makes concessions and people give in," Enjolras finishes as he goes over to check the mess that Magnussen has made thanks to unpinning nearly everything from the corkboard. He frowns as he picks up all the pictures, notes, and yarn that have fallen to the floor in a heap. "We ought to switch to a whiteboard," he muses, more to himself than his companions.

"I thought for a moment he was going to piss on our stuff," Bahorel drawls. "Wouldn't put it past him, to be honest."

"He kept on referring to his business. He's someone's patron then," Courfeyrac observes.

"We'll have to find out exactly who," Enjolras concurs. "The depositions from Miss Gardner and Mister DeWitt will have to be reviewed again for anything they missed or anyone we have yet to talk to. This time we have to focus on the details of the offers that brought them here."

"Miss Gardner was brought in to be a secretary. Mister DeWitt said he was to be given some office job of an undefined description at Mr. Bidault's," Feuilly supplies. "It is different from what happened to the sweatshop survivors last spring, who were brought in specifically for sewing."

"Is this in any way connected to one of Bidault's businesses?" Enjolras asks.

"Bidault does telecommunications but I wouldn't put out of consideration the fact that his business is part of a conglomeration too," Courfeyrac replies. "No wonder Magnussen thinks this is big. It is."

Bossuet feels his stomach twist at these words. "What are we going to do?"

"Leave no stone unturned," Enjolras answers. He brings out his phone and opens up a message. "This isn't Magnussen's first move. He threatened Combeferre and Florence yesterday, talking specifically about the Blakeneys as well as me and Eponine."

"Damn it. He's on to us," Bahorel mutters.

"He has eyes everywhere." Enjolras clears away the corkboard's remaining contents, putting the city map to one side just so he can hang a large sheet of paper on the blank space. He begins writing down the names of Magnussen's colleagues in the ministry as well as a number of businessmen apart from Bidault. "The inquiry begins here. It will take a lot of manpower, but this will be dangerous."

"That is true for everything we do. You're thinking something like the Fersen case?" Courfeyrac asks.

Enjolras nods. "The stakes have changed. Magnussen and his friends will strike at anyone they find. Therefore we cannot afford to have anyone be caught off-guard and defenceless, so I want as few people to be involved in this matter, voluntarily."

"To limit collateral damage?" Feuilly clarifies.

Enjolras nods again. "We still have other cases to finish alongside this one. If any of you would prefer to focus on those, let me know. I can do something about your paperwork to allow you to focus better on the other tasks at hand."

'He's giving us a way out,' Bossuet realizes. "What if you need help?"

"I'll let you know," Enjolras promises. He takes a deep breath before looking at Bahorel and Feuilly. "Corporate investigation is out of your usual job description. Is this still fine with you?"

"I'll finish that union case, but if you want someone on the ground watching businesses, I can make time," Feuilly replies. "We can't forget those people."

"I'll work with him," Bahorel offers. "I hope you won't need my skill set though, outside perhaps of investigating any bodyguards and ordnance."

"Hopefully." Enjolras nods to Courfeyrac and Bossuet. "You two have the most legal leeway. What would you prefer?"

Courfeyrac claps his shoulder. "I'm still in. I'm all for shaking him down."

"Will Azelma be fine with that? You have a daughter," Enjolras points out.

Courfeyrac pauses and sighs. "I'll talk with her about it."

"You need a talker and a paper pusher. That's my job, Chief. I'm in," Bossuet chimes in.

"We may as well tell everyone about what's going on," Courfeyrac points out. "There's no staying out completely since it was the ladies who took down Bidault after all."

"Ramen night?" Bahorel asks.

Enjolras nods. "Tonight. It has to be then since we cannot wait till Wednesday. We can't have it at your place though, Courfeyrac. He's been tracking."

Bossuet takes a moment to think. "Our place then. It hasn't happened in a while," he finally decides. "I'll give Joly and Chetta the heads up."

Bahorel snorts. "Time to hide your incriminating things?"

Bossuet laughs before bringing out his phone to send messages to his roommates, and then setting the gadget aside while waiting for their hopefully affirmative replies. It's a whole quarter of an hour before he gets a call from Joly. "Hey L'aigle, why are we moving up ramen night?" Joly asks worriedly.

It takes a moment for Bossuet to find the words; there is nothing he hates more than ruining his lover's good cheer. "That case we've been working on just got more dangerous." He winces at the distressed noise Joly makes. "I'll tell you and Chetta more about it later. Is it okay to have everyone over?"

"Yeah. We'll have to sit on the floor though. I hope there are enough cushions for the hard spots," Joly replies. "We'd better make it pot luck though since our kitchen doesn't have cauldrons."

"Okay I'll tell them. Are you with Chetta now?"

"She's the one who told me to call. It's fine with her too."

"I really owe you guys. Till later guys," Bossuet says more happily before ending the call. "It's a go as long as it is pot luck," he informs his officemates.

"That's fair, especially given the short notice," Enjolras agrees. "Thank you for this."

"Look at this way-it will be his turn to host once he and Eponine close the deal on their new love nest," Bahorel points out. "When's that happening, Chief?"

"Hopefully by the end of the month," Enjolras mutters, reddening slightly at his friend's choice of words. "It will be a little while before we can move in."

"You two don't have many things. It will be the work of a day," Courfeyrac drawls. He glances at his watch. "Guess we have eight more hours to order in and pass the message. It's only ten o'clock."

"I thought it was almost lunch," Bossuet groans. He figures that this has to be the effect of Magnussen's unpleasant visit, but the unease does not quite diminish even with the passing of the day.

As soon as the clock strikes five, Bossuet rushes home to clean up the place while his friends see to various errands. It seems fairly easy enough to pick up Joly's finished puzzles and to stash away Musichetta's books, but the same cannot be said for clearing away that stifling feeling growing in the air. He turns up some music and opens the window, just a few moments before hearing the door open and seeing Musichetta trudge in. "So how many babies did you haul into the world today?" he greets.

Musichetta manages a small grin as she holds up five fingers. "So I hear we're heading for some real shit. Have you heard from Combeferre and Florence yet?"

"They were threatened by this man named Magnussen."

"Yes, and he followed them all the way to Florence's former apartment. They moved to their new place last night, so they've been spending most of today finishing their move."

Bossuet has to sit down on hearing this bit of news. "Okay, so things got so much worse."

"What is going on, L'aigle?" Musichetta asks as she sits next to him. "Okay, it's this case, there's a lot of horrible people running around, and what I've looked up on Magnussen makes me want to bleach my brain, but I am sure there is more to it."

Bossuet takes her hand, marvelling at how she's kept her fingers so smooth despite all her work. "Magnussen showed up at the office today, basically to tell us to keep off the case," he confesses. He swallows hard when he sees her eyes go wide. "I think you know where this is going."

"You guys are going in," Musichetta affirms. "It's your job."

"Yeah but that's not really the problem, Chetta." Bossuet holds her hand more tightly. "Magnussen's MO, if you will, is to blackmail and bring down people. He's going to try to get to you and Joly, and I don't want that happening since you guys aren't working at our office."

Musichetta shakes her head. "Joly and I have been treating Clara Gardner. You can find our names on the records. Magnussen probably already knows this, so we're already in."

This revelation almost has Bossuet sick to his stomach. "Is there any way to deal with this?"

Musichetta is quiet for a moment. "All we can do is take care of Clara, all the way till she can testify. We're in for as long as she's in our care. The rest...it's up to you. Now is there anything that we can do for you?"

This time it is Bossuet's turn to go silent, more so when he feels Musichetta drape an arm around him. "You're the best," he murmurs.

"That's why you boys are with me," Musichetta points out before kissing the top of his head.

Bossuet cracks a smile before kissing her back, laughing when she pushes on his shoulders so she can go off to shower. In a few minutes Joly shows up and sets down several bags of dim sum on the dining table before flopping down next to Bossuet on the sofa. "I heard," he simply says.

Bossuet nods. "Chetta and I talked."

"She did the research, and I guess it's clear," Joly whispers. "You're not going in alone."

Bossuet kisses his cheek and shuts his eyes, eager to get a little rest. It's just as well that when Joly turns on the TV he keeps the volume low, and that Musichetta is quiet too when she finally joins them on the sofa. In short order the rest of their friends arrive: first Grantaire and Jehan, then Gavroche, Azelma and Courfeyrac. Combeferre, Florence, Enjolras, Eponine, and Feuilly turn up together, having hitched a ride in Enjolras' car. Bahorel comes in soon after with Karen in tow, followed by Marguerite, Percy, Armand, and Andrew. The last to arrive are Marius, Cosette, and Mr. Fauchelevent. It's the elderly gentleman's presence that startles Bossuet, for shouldn't a man of his age be allowed to live his years in peace instead of being thrown into this storm? Nevertheless the calm the older Fauchelevent brings becomes absolutely necessary what with the energy that fills the tiny apartment while everyone is having their fill of dinner and conversation about everything except the matter that has them all in this one place.

At length Enjolras sets down his bowl of soup and looks around the group assembled in the apartment. "I am sure that most, if not all of you, have heard why we're all gathered here tonight," he begins. "The big case that my office has been working on has just taken a new turn. It will involve investigating the politician Magnussen."

Percy clucks his tongue. "That's demmed dangerous. He fires wider than grapeshot."

"Which is precisely why we have to be prepared. Magnussen's methods involve both his opponents and his associates. He will certainly try to investigate the office, as well as everyone else who's involved in the case in some way or another," Enjolras continues more firmly. "Unfortunately this includes all of us here. We have to be prepared to face whatever attempts he will make at blackmail, investigations, or even intimidation."

Grantaire shakes his head. "So should we all get our affairs in order, prepare to run, or something?"

"Not to that extent," Enjolras replies. "This brings us to another point: not all of us should be directly involved in this point in the investigation. I would like that to be clear to all of us. The work of ferreting out his network will be complex and trying even without Magnussen's opposition. There is no need for all of us to unnecessarily be in the line of his fire."

"There is still the problem of helping Macky DeWitt and Clara Gardner take the witness stands. Someone has to support those kids too," Combeferre points out.

"That's what we do anyway in our group," Marguerite chimes in. "Investigating Magnussen is out of bounds for us, but taking care of Macky and Clara is our work." She nods to Andrew. "You can tell Suzanne not to worry."

Andrew breathes a sigh of relief. "I was worried when Magnussen was mentioned. Thank you."

"We're in for helping those kids too," Musichetta adds, grabbing Joly's hand and raising it in the air. "Physicians on board here."

"Same here. That is something we can do, aside from keeping eyes and ears open," Combeferre muses.

Florence nudges him. "You watch in the hospital, I'll watch in the university."

"What if he notices you?" Eponine asks. "I mean, he's met you."

Florence shrugs. "I'm the only one here who's connected with the university, where he does a lot of his work. You need me there."

Jehan clears his throat. "It's not a direct connection, but I am sure I can pick up a thing or two from the university's publishing group. I still work with them from time to time." He slurps a noodle. "It wouldn't hurt to look there."

"Speaking of publishing, we do have a newsman here," Gavroche says, pointing to Armand.

Armand shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "Of course I'll give tips when the need arises, but I might be more useful keeping my colleagues from covering this case, for the time being."

"That would be very much appreciated. Thank you St-Just," Enjolras acknowledges.

Gavroche lets out an obnoxious burp. "You know what you need? Someone who's a hand with computers and breaking into wiring."

"In short, hacking?" Eponine asks.

"It's not hacking if I get legitimate access and passwords," Gavroche points out. "Besides you find it a chore, I say it's a lark."

"If it is access you need, I may be able to assist you there," Mr. Fauchelevent says. "There are ways to look at official records without committing a transgression."

'Paralegal work,' Bossuet can't help thinking. "Does that cover video footage?" he asks.

Mr. Fauchelevent nods. "Other records such as transactions are also important. Those can be requested easily from city halls, archives, and offices."

Gavroche rolls his eyes. "That is no fun."

"It will not do to cause further trouble," Mr. Fauchelevent reminds him gently.

"When that evidence is gathered, you'll need me," Karen chimes in.

"How does the SOCO get involved?" Florence asks.

"Because I'm the only one here with a badge and the authority to arrest someone with a warrant," Karen replies smugly. "I want to take this Magnussen fellow down badly; he's whitewashed more stuff than you can believe, and I don't like it."

Bahorel whistles. "I can't imagine you wanting to burn someone down that badly."

"You should have seen her when she faced off against Bidault," Eponine says, making a claw-like motion with her hands. "Fierce."

Mr. Fauchelevent cracks a smile but he sighs deeply as he looks at Enjolras. "All I ask is that somehow, all this attention should spare Fantine. I do not wish to have her deal unnecessarily with this Magnussen fellow."

"Understood," Enjolras says. He looks to Marius and Cosette. "You two have a child. It might be best for you two not to be too involved, even if we could use the help."

Marius hesitates but Cosette squeezes his hand. "We have to step back. Elodie doesn't need to worry about us too," she tells him firmly.

"Hey that's why I'm not in too, because of Darren," Grantaire admits. "Don't worry, Jehan and I talked about this already."

"We decided that only one of us can be doing anything crazy at any point in time," the poet explains. "It's my turn this month."

Azelma wipes her mouth. "We aren't getting involved either." Her eyes go wide when she sees Courfeyrac look down into his ramen at these words. "Maurice, did you promise to take the case too?"

"It's my work, Zel," Courfeyrac says as he meets her eyes. "I'll be careful-"

"You can be careful, but Magnussen won't be," Azelma retorts. "I can put up with this, but Alex can't. She's just a baby, she needs her dad."

"I'm not going to be an absentee dad because of this, I promise," Courfeyrac replies, turning red. "Besides, it will be over before you know it-"

"Not the damage. The things he does can last for a long time," Azelma glares at Enjolras. "I can't believe you're letting him do this."

"It's not my place to curtail what someone is able and willing to do in these matters," Enjolras points out. "It's an informed risk."

"You're a parent, you should know these things!" Azelma seethes. She looks about to her sister, who is picking at her own bowl of ramen. "Eponine, are you also getting in on this too?"

"Not into everything; I have a job too," Eponine replies quickly. "But I'm not going to just watch while Magnussen takes potshots at people."

Azelma gapes at her. "I can't believe you guys. Gav, fine, we can't stop him. You and Auguste though are going to be parents. Maybe Magnussen will let up, but what about who he's working with?" She gets to her feet, spilling ramen everywhere. "This is stupid."

"Zel-"Courfeyrac begins as he sets his bowl aside and goes to her.

Azelma shakes her arm away from his grip. Her eyes are glistening as she looks at him. "Just because I opted out of the case, that doesn't mean I'm immune or that Alex is safe. You should be able to understand that, Maurice."

"I do understand," Courfeyrac insists. "Everything."

Azelma merely shakes her head before sitting down, but away from Courfeyrac this time. The silence in the room is far too palpable even for Bossuet's liking, thus prompting him to cross the room and open the window. This elicits some snorts from Gavroche and Joly, just moments before a full on chuckle leaves Grantaire's lips. "Well played, L'aigle!" Musichetta cheers.

Enjolras sighs as he looks from Courfeyrac, then to Azelma, and lastly to Eponine. "We have to talk. Not here though."

"Thank you for sparing us the family feud," Feuilly remarks as he raises his soup bowl. "That's going to be the first thing Magnussen is going to go for, so better fix that now than later."