It's me again! I actually kept my promise to update this time!

Disclaimer: If I owned Les Mis, I'd know George Blagden and we would be best friends and watch disney movies and musicals once a week in matching onesies. He'd bring the beers, I'd buy the popcorn. Unfortunately I don't, so I have to make do with my best friend for this instead. (LOL she's brilliant, I don't mind really.)

Enjolras didn't think anyone had seen his little 'gesture', but Combeferre had.

The mild-mannered philosopher had been stood just outside the doorway, waiting for Enjolras to leave so he could take a seat next to Éponine's bed for the night. Knowing Enjolras as he did, he knew the intense embarrassment that would follow if he knew Combeferre had seen him, so he stepped back, away from the door until Enjolras came out moments later.

'I won't be long, Combeferre, I just need to grab a few things.' He said stiffly as he played with his car keys.

Grantaire looked up at Enjolras from his seat on the couch, and then said brightly 'want company? I can't just sit here doing nothing, I'll go crazy.'
'Anything to keep you off the drink, I suppose' was the cool reply. Ouch. Looks like Enjolras is back to normal.
Unsurprisingly, Grantaire was used to this sort of comment, as they came his way several times a day - Combeferre had tried suggesting Enjolras laid off Grantaire a bit, but to no avail. As it was, Grantaire just grinned and replied 'Well you're in no better state to drive than me, looking at you, so I reckon you need someone with you to make sure you're all right. It's ok, thank me later'
Enjolras nodded and the two left. Courfeyrac was still sorting Gavroche's bed out, so Combeferre was left alone with Éponine in Joly's room. As was his nature, he used the time to think; specifically, to think about the night's events, and what he had just witnessed with Enjolras and Éponine.

He'd had a horrible shock when Courf had turned up at his door, Gavroche in tow, and told him to come quickly, something terrible had happened to Éponine. On the short drive to Courf, Grant and Joly's apartment, he had been filled in on what little was known about what had happened: Enjolras had turned up at their door, soaking wet and beside himself with worry, carrying a severely injured Éponine in his arms; Joly was treating her on the kitchen table as apparently hospital was out of the question ('best if no one knows where us lot are' Gavroche had supplied, cryptically); Marius was nowhere to be seen. Combeferre was glad Courf had come to get him; he would never forgive himself if something happened to Éponine and he could have helped, and if nothing else he could be a calming influence over the more highly-strung Amis in the room.

Courfeyrac had told him Enjolras was worried, but even Combferre was amazed at just how frantic his best friend was when he arrived. Enjolras never betrayed his emotions, unless it was anger or passion related to social injustice, but he was a sight for sore eyes that night: his forehead constantly screwed up in a frown above wide, bloodshot, anxiety-filled eyes and his hands repeatedly running through his dripping wet curls, messing them up so that they strongly resembled a bird's nest by the time Joly was done. His pale blue button-down was sticking to his chest and almost see-through, and the dark colour of his originally pale chinos showed they were clearly soaked through. Despite all this, Enjolras appeared not to notice, his attention solely on the tiny, battered young woman on the table. Combeferre had originally thought that it was just shock at the state Éponine was in - it was unlikely Enjolras had seen anyone so hurt, and his friend might even have witnessed whatever had led to these injuries, he didn't know the story yet. But the care with which Enjolras had picked her up and carried her to Joly's room, not to mention his actions as he put her to bed, suggested to Combeferre that it was more than that.

He didn't know the marble man had it in him, to be honest. He knew Enjolras cared for his friends, and the people of France, but he'd always seemed to care from a comfortable distance, until now. He'd always disagreed with the group's perception of Enjolras as an asexual robot – having known the man since childhood, he knew Enjolras had had exactly three girlfriends, all fairly serious, but none who lasted very long. But since they'd started university, Patria and fighting for equality had completely eclipsed almost everything else on his list of priorities. The scores of women who threw themselves at him had never stood a chance, and usually ended up mending their broken hearts in Courfeyrac's bed. Could it be Enjolras was falling for the one woman who wasn't even remotely interested in him?

Just like him to be bloody contrary. Combeferre thought with a smile.

Should he tell Les Amis about what he had seen? They'd DEFINITELY take the piss, Enjolras would be mortified, and Éponine would probably get a bit of a shock when she woke up as well - not to mention the effect it would have on Grantaire's already half-broken heart. Besides, he didn't know what it meant exactly, and he was pretty sure Enjolras didn't either.

No, best to leave it for now. He'd watch carefully, wait to see how events unfolded. Because something would definitely happen, for better or for worse: as much as Enjolras would try to pretend nothing had happened, it was definitely a big deal. Even the marble man can't hold on to his emotions forever.

Satisfied with his decision, Combeferre took out his phone and started playing Fruit Ninja.

It was going to be a long night. He might even beat his high score.

On the outside, Enjolras was a model of calm, but inside he was on fire.

What the hell was that about? Why would you kiss her? You don't even like her! She's infuriating! You argue with her on a daily basis! She's the only person on the planet as stubborn as you! What if somebody saw?

GOD, I hope nobody saw.

But what if somebody saw?! You'll have to explain yourself and YOU don't even know why you did it!

This is all a big over-reaction Enjolras. You just did it because you were worried about her: you found her half-dead on the street for God's sake! You've had a highly irregular night, it's to be expected that you would do stupid things. It doesn't mean you're in love with her or anything!

Whoa, who mentioned love?! At WORST it's a bit of harmless physical attraction. Nothing I can't deal with. Nothing I haven't dealt with before, even if it is a touch stronger than usual. Probably just because it's been so long since I… did anything.

And it was just on the forehead. My Great Aunt Alphonsine is always kissing people on the forehead; it's not a sexual thing!

Sure, keep telling yourself that…

I AM ARGUING WITH MYSELF ABOUT THIS. WHAT AM I DOING?! IT DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING ANYWAY!

When he'd offered to come along, Grantaire hadn't realised it would be actually be a drive in complete silence. After the way he'd impressed Enjolras earlier, he was hoping for at least a polite conversation, even a friendly chat.

Who was he kidding? With Enjolras? OF COURSE NOT.

They pulled up outside Enjolras' apartment building and the handsome leader turned the engine off and ran his hand through his hair for the millionth time that night. Something was clearly up with him and Grantaire couldn't ignore it any longer.

'Are you ok, Enjolras? You're really quiet and you don't seem yourself.'
'I'm fine, thank you. I'm just worried about Éponine… and Gavroche and everyone. I mean, we really could have done without such drama while we're still rallying and we've got schoolwork.
Man, I love you, but even I can hear how douchey that sounded. 'I don't think she planned on getting attacked or… whatever happened.'
'No, no, of course not. I just hope there's no lasting damage. And I don't understand what DID happen! Marius was with her when they left the café and they only went to the Rue Plumet!'
'He's got his head in the fucking clouds though, it's not like he would have been any help. She's done something to protect him, that much is clear, but what I don't know. How did you find her?'
'Marius came back to the café alone and said he'd heard a scream and Éponine had been nowhere to be seen. He kept going on about that bloody woman of his and I thought I should go and look for her as he clearly wasn't going to.'
'Where was she?'
'I found her on Rue de la Quintinie, collapsed in a heap. I probably wouldn't have found her but she was… she was singing.'
'You didn't know she could sing?'
Something flashed through those beautiful blue eyes, darkening them for a second, but he simply replied 'no.'
'She's amazing, isn't she? I think she uses it as a way to get her emotions out. Must have been difficult to find a way to do that growing up with such a twat of a father. I don't understand how she stays so strong, it's like she internalises everything then lets go of it in song. It's incredible, actually.'
'You've heard her before, then?'
'Yeah, earlier today. When she was in the back?' He paused for a second, deciding how best to phrase it; he wouldn't want to betray Éponine's secrets. 'She sang a love song about sticking by someone however they treat you.'
He was quiet for a second, but when Enjolras eventually replied, it was stiff 'Marius.'
Wow, she's even more obvious that I thought if ENJOLRAS has noticed. 'Yeah.'
'What was the song called?'
'As Long As He Needs Me.'
'Shit.' Sums it up. Wait, did YOU just swear?!
... Best not to mention it. 'Yeah.'

They didn't say anything else, just went upstairs to Enjolras' apartment. Grantaire waited in the living room as the man he loved showered and changed – God, he wished the bathroom door was see-though – and collected a few things for Combeferre (change of clothes, toothbrush, magazine). Then they left.

It would have been enough for Grantaire. Not only had he had a nice private viewing of a shirtless Enjolras as he searched for a clean shirt (seriously, he had had trouble controlling himself. That CHEST, still slightly damp from showering… holy moley.), he'd actually had a conversation with Enjolras – a REAL one, where he hadn't made a single snide comment.

But there was still one thing left to make Grantaire's night. They were driving back to his apartment in comfortable silence, when out of nowhere, Enjolras had said 'you know, you're actually great company when you don't drink. And what you said to Éponine about Juliets and Rosalines, that was really clever and kind. I was really proud to call you my friend.'

He was trying really hard not to think of this as the best night of his life, while his best friend lay seriously injured in his apartment, but Grantaire's chest swelled with pride and joy and he didn't know whether to cry with happiness or kiss the guy there and then. He decided it was best if he just stayed quiet.

'Just saying. You might get further in life without the alcohol.'

R was slightly deflated by the last comment, as well as the use of the word 'friend'. See, this sort of thing is why I NEED to drink. You still don't see me as anything but a stupid drunk.

Then again, it was still the nicest thing Enjolras had ever said to him. That had to be progress. He'd been PROUD of him. That meant there was definitely hope yet, didn't it?

Jesus, all these mixed signals. I need a beer.

Another long one! Honestly, I've never edited anything as much as I edited this chapter. I even fully rewrote it like 4 times because I kept changing my mind about who would have seen him, or if anyone did. I hope I got it right in the end though...

Please let me know what you think, on this chapter especially with all the different views and options and things, I'm really interested to see what you guys think of the direction the story is going in (albeit slowly). At the end of the day, you're the ones giving up your time to read it, very kindly, so I'd love to get your perspective on it.

Also, what do you guys think of the new Doctor, Peter Capaldi? :)