Rue de la Chanvrerie. June 5th, 1832. The procession works on building the barricade. Enjolras notices the man who joined in the Rue des Billettes.

Enjolras swears under his breath. "What are you doing here?" He asks quietly, when the others are rather busy. He's pretty good at subtle communication.

Javert steps toward Enjolras, face blank for the most part. "My job, as you are doing yours."

Enjolras says, "You have to get out of here. If someone else recognizes you, I can't just let it go."

Javert looks steadily at Enjolras, "I am finding it hard to believe you can let it go now." Is his fellow angel human after all?

Enjolras says, "The barricade is not yet built. The law of the Republic doesn't apply here, not yet. Not until it is complete. Leave."

Javert discreetly reaches in his pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper and unfolding it, handing it to Enjolras at a precise moment when no one is watching. "As you see..." for this is what is says, more or less, on the paper, "I have orders to stay."

Enjolras reads it quickly and gives it back. He turns away. "Then stay. If you decide to help us, so be it. If not, then you will suffer the fate you know is coming."

Javert tucks it just as quickly back into his pocket. "I watched you. I don't know if you saw, but I was watching, as usual." he pauses, "Yes, I would know what is coming. The same that I would have to give you, were our positions reversed. I would expect nothing less of you." He raises his arm to pat Enjolras on the shoulder in a way that, to any outsider, would seem a simple compatriarcal gesture, but would seem more between the two.

Enjolras says, "I suppose I would accept it from you in the same manner, should the day ever come," and turns back to look at the insane, stoic man again. "You are brave, or you are stupid. So am I."

Enjolras takes a step nearer to shake Javert's hand. "It is good to have you with us, Monsieur," he declares.

Javert shakes his hand firmly, any emotion that was there, now gone. "And good to be with you." he nods shortly, and turns sharply to make it appear he is making himself useful, meanwhile listening in on various plans.

From time to time, Gavroche peers at the tall man with sideburns, thinking.

Gavroche catches Enjolras in a spare moment. "Monsieur, that man. The one with the sideburns. He's not one of us."

Enjolras says, "Why do Enjolras says that, gamin?"

Gavroche says, "I know him. He's a cop."

Enjolras raises an eyebrow. He strides over to Javert and asks, "Who are you?"

Javert looks up to his stunning counterpart and smiles, proud and satisfied to see how Enjolras would sacrifice his own personal feelings for his cause. Or perhaps, better yet, there weren't any feelings. "I see how it is-" he admires Enjolras, "Well, yes!"

Enjolras says, "You're an informer?"

Javert stops smiling as he sees more people looking in his direction. He puts on his normal, stern, cold face. "I am a government officer."

Enjolras does not return the smile. The gamin is watching. He understands, though, and hopes that he can be as firm in the face of death. He knows that he can. "Your name is?"

Javert vaguely wonders in the back of his mind if Enjolras has ever heard of him, him being rather infamous with criminal-types, and all, and he only having told him his first name, never the name he is known by, as he responds, "Javert."

Enjolras gestures to the henchmen, who summarily tie up Javert.

After the search and looking at Javert's papers, Enjolras tells him, "You will be shot 10 minutes before the barricade is taken."

Javert's mind fires off a thousand questions at once, all boiling down to, "He hesitates?". If he were human, he'd feel a ray of hope at this. But being Javert, he's disappointed, of course. "Why not immediately?"

Enjolras uses the most reasonable reason, "We're economizing on powder."

Javert replies, with equal reason, "Then do it with a knife."

Enjolras draws himself to his full height. Were R observing instead of unconscious, he would undoubtedly note an increase in radiance. "Spy, we are judges, not assassins." His voice is as crisp as he can make it, for he is not acting a part, even though he has touched this man in more ways than one.

Enjolras sends away Gavroche, ignoring the boy's request for Javert's musket.

The Amis who had come to see what was happening and the men who had helped Enjolras apprehend the spy leave to attend to other business.

Javert stares at Enjolras, quieting for now, admiring the pride he takes in his species, worried underneath as he feels the one equal he's found in the world... weakening?

Enjolras says, "Don't worry. I would not untie you unless it meant the end of this emeute and instant victory for my comrades."

Javert smiles again at this, and, as everyone has left or lost interest, he tells him, "I love you."

Enjolras says, "You only love yourself."

Javert says, "Quite wrong. It might have been correct, before I met you. Not now."

Enjolras takes a step closer to the post where Javert is bound, and kisses him with full knowledge that this will be the last kiss either of them will ever receive.

Enjolras eventually says, "I wish I could tell you that I love you, but I don't know how that feels.

Javert would, of course, have kissed longer, but the timing was rather up to Enjolras in this situation. "That's all right. Go, see to your cause, to your own Law. I'll be waiting here, until ten minutes before you are all massacred. Then I shall be waiting elsewhere."

Enjolras says, "We will not be separated long. Have no fear."

Javert leans back against the post from leaning out for the kiss, a motion of maybe a centimeter. He has no fear.

Enjolras, unable to resist, kisses Javert again, longer, leaning against him as much as the post will bear.

Javert kisses Enjolras again almost fiercely for a while, then actually, for a switch, tries to end the kiss, muttering to him in a pause for breath, "Your friends need you."

Enjolras says, "Yes."

Enjolras turns away from Javert, again. "I won't forget that you are here."

Javert nods slightly, "That's as it should be."

*

Enjolras, having gotten insurgent thugs to rebind Javert so that he can lie on a table, and having brought the spy a drink of water, sends away said thugs.

Javert looks up to Enjolras, of course, the only way he can look at him now. "What's happening out there?" he questions calmly.

Enjolras says, "We sent away five men. Two more came. There is nothing to be done until the attack."

Javert nods as well as he can, "So less three. How many in all are you, then?"

Enjolras says, "Thirty-six. Thirty-six martyrs." He leans forward to kiss Javert, thinking again of their impending deaths.

Javert nods again, slowly, keeping in a smile for politeness' sake. He doesn't refuse the kiss, of course.

Enjolras puts a hand on Javert's shoulder, and eventually says, "Well, thirty-seven, counting you."

Javert smiles at that, "You count me among you, though I shall be a martyr for the other side?"

Enjolras says, "You're among us, aren't you?" He kisses Javert again.

Javert strains his neck upward to kiss back, "True enough. I am here, with you."

Enjolras sighs and runs one hand across Javert's chest. "If only we'd had more time."

Javert says, "We've had time... our causes need us now."

Enjolras says, "I told you. There's nothing to be done until the first attack. And what purpose do you serve, tied up in a wineshop?" He kisses Javert, yet again. "There's no duty calling."

Javert ponders it. "I'm showing the world that a decent person will follow the King's command, though he might know how drastic the consequences might be." He smiles after the kiss, "It is calling."

Enjolras shakes his head. "But its call should not stop you from enjoying...this." Another kiss.

During the kiss, there is a step, a rustle of fabric, and a quick intake of breath from someone in the doorway.

Javert says, "It would... were it calling me to be elsewhere. It calls me to be here, right now. And that happens to mean," he leans up on the kiss, "with you."

Enjolras pulls away quickly, turning to see the new, old man in the doorway, his face as pale as his hair. He says, "Monsieur?"

Javert turns his head slightly, then turns his eyes to the door. Stunned into silence, for a moment.

The old man says, "My God," under his breath. "This is the prisoner?"

Javert's face returns to its general scowl at length, and he looks up to Enjolras again, "And this is your new recruit. I should have known." Though he's not sure exactly how he should have known.

Enjolras says, "Yes," to both of them, and, to Valjean, "Is all well upon the barricade?"

Valjean mutters something about, "if this is how they treat the prisoners here, I should have claimed to be from the National Guard all along."

Valjean nods. "Yes, Monsieur. Not a sound from the Guard."

Enjolras says, "Good."

Javert twists his neck to scowl at Valjean again, then, sickened somewhat by the fact that he can't do anything about him, he just looks up to the ceiling.

Enjolras walks out with Valjean without another glance at Javert.

*

Valjean sneaks into the room where Javert is tied to the table during the lull, after Enjolras has left them both alone.

Valjean says, "Javert."

Javert scowls slightly at that voice. You enjoy this, don't you? Seeing me like this, helpless? he thinks. "What?" he says.

Javert sighs shortly. "Because he knows his duty as well as I know mine. Nothing you would understand." he adds with a tone of contempt.

Valjean says, "You are two suicidal automatons, then."

Javert scowls at the ceiling, seeing nothing wrong with that at all, of course, he merely questions: "Why do you care, anyway?"

Valjean says, "I have my own reasons."

Javert snaps, "Well take your reasons and go do whatever it is you came here to do. Fight for the republic, I suppose, for a world where cons like you can run free in the streets without fear of being shown justice."

Valjean leaves Javert to his own private misery.

In an incredibly abbreviated version of the plot, Valjean saves the barricade from a sniper.

After a brief conversation, Enjolras enters the room where Javert is lying. With him are two large insurgents and Valjean.

Enjolras orders, "Untie him."

Javert looks up to the ceiling, and not to them, though he's not sure yet who they are. At the order he looks over, though, curious.

Enjolras says, "That man is yours," to Valjean. "You have earned the right to kill him."

Valjean nods and takes hold of one of Javert's bindings.

Javert thinks that's just about the most insane thing he's ever heard. So insane he can't help but smirk at it as he forces his muscles to work now, well enough to lift himself off the table with only minor assistance.

Enjolras tells Javert, "This man is the savior of the barricade. He is now responsible for your execution, at his request."

Enjolras takes the insurgents with him. The room is empty except for the corpse of Mabeuf.

Javert nods after Enjolras in a manner that can almost be described as politely. He looks to Valjean in not quite the same manner.

Valjean takes Javert out of Corinth and into the small back street that is not surrounded by Guardsmen.

Valjean says, "He did not protest at all."

Valjean says, "You can be proud of that young man. He is as stubborn as you are."

Javert follows in a manner that would make you think he would follow even if he was not bound. "I am." he simply comments.

Valjean shakes his head and draws a knife.

Javert stands as straight as possible, waiting.

Valjean uses the knife to cut the bonds.

Javert stares at Valjean, puzzled, but assuming, well, Valjean's probably knifed off bunches of people and he himself is very civilized and kills people with guns, Valjean must know what he's doing. He waits expectantly.

Valjean says, "Get out of here."

Javert stares. "What?"

Valjean says, "Get out of here. Go. There's no reason you should be tied to a table in the back of a barricade. I live at Number Seven Rue de la Homme-Arme. You can find me there if they don't kill me here."

Javert scowls at Valjean. "You think you're being kind to me? You think I will be impressed?"

Valjean says, "No, I think you will be alive, and that someday you'll understand why I let you go. I am not a criminal, no matter what you have always believed."

Javert frowns, "I did not come here to--" he pauses, "Fine. Fool." he sets his face once more to its usual cold glare. Removing the rope from around his neck and tossing it scornfully to the ground, he turns to leave, half expecting a knife in the back, and not caring, either.

Valjean shoots the gun in his hand into the air. "Go. We will meet again."

Javert pauses and turns around, thinking, will we? He steps back toward Valjean, "No." Familiar glaring light of his eyes resting on Valjean like an owl's on a mouse.

Valjean says, "They believe you are dead. It might be a good idea to leave before they come to see why I have not yet returned." He does not flinch under the wolf's gaze.

Javert reaches over to grab Valjean's arm. "It might be a good idea. You, however, are coming with me."

Valjean says, "I belong here. Let me go."

Javert simply says, "No." and tries to herd Valjean away from the alley.

Valjean resists, planting his feet. He says, "I am not going with you." When he sets out to be implacable, there are few people in the world who are his equal. "Let me go."

Javert's eyes shoot to Valjean's hand briefly, then he grabs at the pistol there, trying to take it by surprise.

Valjean holds the gun tightly. "Release me and go on your way. There are things to be decided tonight, and I must go to my part in them."

Javert looks steadily at Valjean, "I'm not leaving here without you."

Valjean says, "Will you release me once we are outside the barricade?"

Javert says, "Why would I do that?"

Valjean says, "I need to be here tonight."

Valjean uses his free hand to begin to pry open Javert's fingers.

Javert releases his grasp on Valjean quite unwillingly. "You /will/ come with me." Angered, he brings up a fist quickly to meet with the con's face.

Valjean catches hold of Javert's hand. "No, I will not. Listen to me, Javert. Leave this place. You can find me tomorrow at Number Seven Rue de la Homme-Arme, but I must be here tonight."

Javert says, "Another ploy, just to get away. It's a false address."

Valjean says, "No."

Footsteps approach from the barricade.

Valjean says, "Get out of here!"

Javert says, "Why would I believe you? Come with me!"

Enjolras, alone, comes around the corner. "Monsieur! What is going on here?"

Javert looks to Enjolras, then back to Valjean, and back again. "Nothing." he says dryly.

Valjean would be heard to curse, but one would have to be listening very carefully. "Javert, leave the barricade. Now." He tries one last time.

Enjolras says, "Is this how you kill a man? Untie him, and fire a shot that misses?"

Javert shows no sign of leaving without Valjean. Though he thinks the chances of that happening are lessening moment-to-moment.

Enjolras asks in a voice that betrays absolutely none of the conflicting emotions he feels about this whole fiasco, "Why do you want a government informer to leave the barricade with all the information he has on us, Monsieur?"

Valjean says, "He must be made to see that there are greater considerations than duty."

Javert stares at Valjean. Enjolras will know that his words are not true, he knows that someone so like him would never believe this.

Enjolras listens to the old man. He saved the barricade. He could not mean to destroy it by setting Javert free, so there must be something more to his motives. "What is greater than duty?"

Valjean says, "That which God believes is right. Man does not always follow his divine orders well."

Javert looks to Enjolras as though to refute these words, "And I suppose God believes it is right to steal from children and run from the law?"

Valjean says, "God alone can decide what he believes is right. It is our mission to decide as closely as we can what He wants of us."

Enjolras asks, "And why does God want you to let this informer go?"

Valjean says, "To open his eyes."

Javert has no idea what this con is talking about. "I do not need to have my eyes opened."

Valjean turns away from both the impossible Inspector and the incomprehensible revolutionary, then mentions, offhand, if Valjean ever says anything offhand, "Another thing God would consider is the protection of the people one loves." He begins to walk away from the hopeless cop.

Javert strides over to Enjolras, and grabs his carbine quickly, cocking it, aiming it at the retreating back of the con, and firing, completely exasperated by him at this point.

Valjean cries out, slumps to the ground, and dies.

Enjolras cries out, too. "He was trying to save your life."

Javert looks to Enjolras, "I don't want help from his sort." he pauses, "A convict, a fugitive," he adds, "If you didn't know who you had helping you on this barricade."

More footsteps, these running, come down the alleyway. Also audible are men's voices calling, "Enjolras? What was that shot?"

Enjolras says, "He had been judged so by the King's law, which does not apply here. If you do not wish to die, leave!"

Men with guns come down the Rue de Mondetour.

Javert frowns at Enjolras, "Don't let your feelings get in the way, love." he says, softly so anyone approaching would not hear. He knows they're coming, closer now, he couldn't make it if he tried.

Enjolras pushes Javert, strongly and suddenly, hoping to knock him down, and that he will take the hint. To the revolutionaries, he says, "Another sniper," to the approaching men. "He shot one of our men," he points to Valjean's body, "and then he got away." To Javert, he says "play dead!" as loudly as he dares.

Joly, leader of the approaching band, sneezes. He asks, "Which way did he go?"

Enjolras shakes his head. "I didn't see. I was worrying about our dead friend."

Javert sits on the ground where he fell, surprised at the blow, and he looks up at Enjolras, angered.

Joly sniffles. "That's too bad, then. Well, are you in control here, then?"

Enjolras says, "Yes. Go on. I'll take care of the corpse."

Joly and the others turn and leave.

Enjolras sits on the ground next to Javert as soon as they go and kisses him, having no other silent way to express what he is feeling.

Javert looks at Enjolras, not returning the kiss, for once. "What do you contrive?" he asks quietly.

Enjolras says, "Leave as the old man wanted you to. He bought your life. It was his. He wanted you to go. You should have respected that."

Javert frowns, "I did not respect anything about that old man."

Enjolras says, "It is the law of the emeute. He won a favor from us, and got it in the form of your life, which he then decided to give to you. You had no right to deny him his request."

Javert says, "You forget I do not follow your law, but mine."

Enjolras says, "Then follow your own law and arrest us all."

Javert says, "You forget that that is the mission of the National Guard, whom you have been pelting with bullets from your barricade. But if you would have me attempt it as well as they, I shall."

Enjolras says, "You would succeed as well as you did when you were among us before, then."

Javert stands up, Enjolras' carbine in hand, and begins to walk down the alley to attempt the arrest of 30 some odd armed and angry rebels. He looks back to Enjolras, "Yes."

Enjolras says, "Why don't you just arrest me, then? That would serve your purpose as well."

Javert turns around completely, and steps back to Enjolras, briefly checking the carbine for bullets before putting it to his head and saying, "All right. Stand up."

Enjolras, who loaded the carbine himself, obeys. He says, "Where will you take me, Inspector?"

Javert says calmly, "To a holding cell in a nearby police post, then to the scaffold."

Enjolras says, "Ah. If your duty is more important to you than love, then I suppose I shall not fight you."

Javert nods, "Very well." and takes Enjolras at his word, tucking the gun into his jacket pocket, then gestures the way out, staying close behind, just in case. That "if" got to him a little.

Enjolras nods, too, and goes out into the street. "Will you kiss me again before they hang me?"

Javert looks about to the deserted (thank goodness) street, and then leans over to kiss Enjolras as a reply.

Enjolras embraces Javert, kissing him desperately, trying to convince him what the mad old man said, that love can be more important than duty.

Enjolras manages to gasp out, "I love you."

Javert takes a deep breath himself, though hardly letting Enjolras' lips part from his, "I love you too, beautiful angel."

Enjolras smiles serenely. "Then can you do your duty and be glad of it?"

Javert smiles back to him, "Of course. You, and no one better, will understand that, yes?"

Enjolras says, "I understand. It is better to die where everyone is watching than in the back room of some tavern when the barricade is taken." He kisses Javert again. When he lets go, he sighs.

Enjolras says, "They will wonder where I am. No matter. No more will die without me than they would have had with me."

Javert reaches an arm around Enjolras' waist, and holds him comfortingly and begins to walk down the deserted street, gunfire starting up ont eh other side of the buildings.

Enjolras puts an arm around Javert's waist as if they were comrades instead of police officer and criminal.

Javert leans over as they walk to nuzzle Enjolras' ear lovingly. He hopes there are no cobblestones sticking up, as he's not really watching where he's walking.

Enjolras says, "At least we had each other." He kisses Javert's fuzzy neck.

Javert nods, "We did." he agrees, smiling at the kiss.

Enjolras says, "And you know, neither of us really ever could have succeeded in our chosen duties."

Javert raises an eyebrow, "I listen?" he asks curiously.

Enjolras says, "Well, I know everyone in the barricade will die. And can you really clean these streets? I love you more than the sun, but I highly doubt it."

Javert ponders that, "You're right. But to work towards it constantly is a good effort, after all, they could be a lot worse."

Enjolras says, "Yes. I could still be free." He stops walking to engage Javert in yet another long kiss.

Javert kisses him in return, then ends it to say, "You could. But then you and I would both be back there still."

Enjolras says, "And what would be so bad about that?" He lets go and starts walking again, still with one arm around Javert.

Javert ponders it. "Not much." he looks to him, then back to the alley, "You wish to return." he asks, but it's only vaguely a question.

Enjolras says, "It wouldn't mean anything if I did. I am under arrest, aren't I?"

Javert says, "Yes. As are all those back there. You will meet justice, as will they. You can come with me, and meet it by the guillotine, or go back, and meet it by the bayonet."

Enjolras says, "I will go with you."

Javert nods shortly and hugs Enjolras closer to him.

Enjolras walks with Javert, quiet except for the occasional nuzzle or kiss.

*

Outside the Police Post in the Rue du Pontoise

Enjolras says, "Here we are, then." He embraces Javert one last time.

Javert hugs and presses against Enjolras, then, with a soft kiss on the upper lip, he steps away, straightens his clothes, and steps up to the front door to open it for you.

Enjolras straightens his vest and raises his chin, looking as noble as he would on the top of the barricade.

Javert stares intently at Enjolras, waiting for him to enter.

Enjolras walks through the door.

M. Delphax looks up, confused. "Hello, can I...Inspector!" He salutes Javert.

Javert follows him in. Eyes glance to the door all over the room, not only those of Delphax but of the Prefect and other important figures of the police. Javert bows to them, then briefly comments, "This one gave himself up. Enjolras, leader of the barricade int he Rue de la Chanvrerie."

M. Gisquet's eyebrows have a short chat with his hairline. "Well, congratulations, Javert, on apprehending such a dangerous individual! I trust he hasn't given you too much trouble?" That's rather obvious, since his hands aren't even bound.

Javert nods, "No, Monsieur, no trouble." his face, as usual, not betraying any feeling, but it might just be he's trying to make Enjolras look good, so perhaps he will only be imprisoned for life, and not killed. Stranger things have happened, though very, very few.

M. Delphax finds the keys to the cells and gives them to Javert with shaking hands. He's never respected Javert quite so much.

Javert takes the keys and shoots Delphax a look as though to say, "Why are you shaking?", then heads into the next room to open the cell, Enjolras hopefully following like a good boy.

Enjolras would not rebel now, in front of M. le Prefect. He follows Javert, still noble.

Javert waits for Enjolras to enter the cell before shutting it and locking it. A brief intimate glance, eye to eye, and he leaves the room to discuss what shall be done and when with this one with M. Gisquet and the others.

M. Gisquet says to Javert, "If he has confessed to rebellion against the King, then there is no need of a trial and we can execute him in the morning."

*

Javert comes into the office early the next morning, looking rather odd at having not slept all night. He's changed his clothes and washed, but his face looks tired. "Delphax, coffee." he orders, noting the officer here already, though the place is otherwise nearly empty.

M. Delphax serves a nice cup of black coffee for Javert. "Did you have a hard night, Inspector?"

Javert responds briefly, "Couldn't sleep." and sips the coffee. Does Delphax dare ask why?

M. Delphax nods knowingly. "Yes, those darn students were certainly making a ruckus, and that tocsin was enough to keep anyone up."

Javert nods, "Mm-hmm." Precisely. Right. He sips the coffee and heads into the next room to wake Enjolras, looking back over his shoulder, "I'll prepare the prisoner myself." he adds.

Enjolras looks up when Javert comes into view. He has not slept at all, and yet he does not look overtired, but as if he had been taking lessons in posture and grace all night long and just taken a refreshing bath. "Good morning, Inspector."

Javert nods to him, "Good morning." he repeats, and he goes over to the pump to full a bowl with water.

Enjolras says, "When will it be?"

Javert doesn't look up from the full bowl as he carries it to the cell door, "At dawn."

Enjolras says, "Fair enough."

Javert unlocks the door and steps in. He trusts Enjolras enough to leave the door open while he sets down the water, then steps out and removes some other items from a drawer, which on his re-entering the cell turn out to be a bar of soap and a razor. He carefully shaves the hair from the back of Enjolras's neck, rinses off the soap, and kisses the pale cheek before putting the soap and the razor in the water and carrying it out.

tk, the executioner, waits by the guillotine.

Javert looks to the clock, then opens the door wider and looks to Enjolras like he should come out.

Enjolras walks out.

Javert leads Enjolras outside, where the scaffold waits, and a small bunch of people, mostly citizens annoyed at having been kept up all night by the prisoner's silly revolution.

Enjolras walks out with incredible dignity. He climbs the scaffold.

Javert even goes so far as to lead Enjolras up to the stage before handing him over to the executioner and stepping back down to watch nearby. His beautiful angel...

The executioner reads from a piece of parchment: "By the order of the king, etc. etc. You are hereby sentenced to death by guillotine. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Enjolras says, "Vive le republique!"

The executioner says, "Alright, that's quite enough of that."

Javert smiles faintly at the words. Only faintly.

The executioner covers Enjolras's head, leads him over to the guillotine and places his head inside. Then, he cuts the rope.

Javert sighs. That's all.