[Dessa: Javert; Laura: Grantaire, who is a seriously lousy spy]

Grantaire orders another bottle of wine.

Javert nods to the help, and lays a few more coins on the table.

Louison brings Grantaire the bottle, and narrowly avoids being goosed. She looks up in surprise at Javert, then nods to him. "One for you, Monsieur?" she asks politely.

Grantaire looks up muzzily from his cup. "Who are you?"

Javert shakes his head to Louison in polite declination, then, to R, "Oh, who I am doesn't really matter, now, Who might you be?" Although he's already more familiar with Pierrot Grantaire than Grantaire himself is, in this stage of drunkenness.

Grantaire blinks. "That depends who you ask. If you ask him," he points to M. Enjolras, lecturing to his cronies, "I'm an annoying drunk. If you ask them," he points to Joly and Bossuet, deep in conversation, "I'm an interesting friend. If you ask me, I'll tell you I'm Grantaire."

Grantaire asks politely, as one ought, because he doesn't remember doing it, "And you are?"

Javert frowns slightly at being asked again, so, as no one ever calls him by it, he gives his first name, "You may call me Andrzej." then, nodding vaguely in the direction of Enjolras, "And who's that, to be calling you such things?"

Grantaire repeats, "Andrzej," stumblingly, then looks over at Enjolras. "He's God, didn't you know?"

Javert hms, "No..." he speaks, vaguely, "I never thought red to be God's color..."

Grantaire smiles in a very glazed over way. "But it certainly is his color, wouldn't you say? Would you like a drink?

Javert looks up, "Yes, he does look the sort to be wearing red, correct?" then back to Grantaire, "No, thank you."

Grantaire has already poured a glass of wine for Andrzej. "Well, we can't let it go to waste, can we?" he asks cheerfully, then drains the glass himself. "What was it you wanted with me, Monsieur Andrzej?"

Javert says, "Just to buy you a drink, and to talk. You seem like a... pleasant enough person. Very interesting group here, as well... are you very close to them?"

Grantaire considers that. "Close to them? They're in the same room I am. Some of them are my friends, and some wouldn't give me the time of day if I was the last man on the sinking ship."

Grantaire drinks again to comfort himself.

Javert says, "No? Do you know what they're about? I mean, of course, that I see them about here quite often, quite intent on their discussions."

Grantaire sets down his cup. "They like to argue," he says conspiratorially, as if that's not totally obvious. "They talk. A lot."

Javert sits forward a bit, though attempting not to look too eager, not like it's a formal interrogation, "About what?"

Grantaire muses about that. It requires another drink. "Women. The weather. Politics. Women. The latest illnesses, well, that's mostly Joly. Love. Poetry, from Prouvaire."

Javert watches the level of the wine in the bottle quickly fall, and catches Louison's eye as to purchase another. "Do they disagree often over politics?"

Grantaire senses the approach of more wine. "They disagree about everything. Politics, maybe not so much, but they like talking about it."

Javert says, "What about it?"

Grantaire casts about for anything that will ensure wine. "The King."

Javert says, "Good things about the King?"

Grantaire hmms. "Well, sometimes, from some of them. And then some not so good things from the others. And then they argue. That's the whole point."

Javert says, "Right. That's the point... just a good clean argument, for the sake of an argument?"

Grantaire shrugs. "Yeah. Something like that."

Grantaire offers a cup of wine in the hopes of a fresh bottle. "Drink this, Monsieur. Then the arguing will be more fun."

Javert refuses, persistently.

Grantaire stops talking.

Javert drinks.

Grantaire starts talking again. "I've known these people for a really long time, you see."

Grantaire adds, "They're here a lot. I don't know why. I just pointed out the comfortable seats and cheap drinks to Joly and Bossuet, and all of a sudden they've got a party here every night."

Javert sets down the drink, "A party for drinking, or for more discussions?"

Grantaire answers, "Yes."

Javert says, "Yes to which?"

Grantaire blinks. "Both."

Javert nods, "I see. Do they ever make plans at their parties?"

Grantaire thinks hard and wrinkles his brow. "Yeah. They plan to talk more."

Javert says, "Do they plan to do more than talk?"

Grantaire shrugs. "They plan to drink."

Javert says, "Do they plan to act?"

Grantaire thinks. "No, I don't think any of them are in the theater. They go to shows once in a while, though."

Javert leans forward, "I mean, to act against the government."

Grantaire looks like Javert just broke an egg on his forehead. "OH! Um. I'm not sure. I still think you should ask him," he says again, and points toward Enjolras. "He knows what's happening. I just watch."

Grantaire looks over at Enjolras and is once more distracted. He gazes adoringly at his favorite statue.

Javert watches Grantaire watch Enjolras and his brow raises at a thought that had not yet occurred to him of this fellow, one that vaguely makes him want to be ill.

Grantaire sighs after a while, and takes another drink. While he's at it, he fills Javert's glass with a friendly smile.