Archive of Our Own ^beta

“She is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” Courfeyrac said to Eponine at lunch.

Eponine nodded, not because she had an opinion on the subject but because she wasn’t listening.

“I really mean it this time,” Courfeyrac said. He had read a great deal more in the nod than Eponine had intended. “I’m really, truly in love.”

“That’s nice,” Eponine said, keeping her eyes on her phone.

Courfeyrac dramatically flung an arm over his forehead and groaned with despair. Eponine rolled her eyes and put her phone down. Courfeyrac had spent all summer at theater camp and had returned with approximately 200% more dramatic flair.

Seeing that he had captured Eponine’s attention, Courfeyrac disentangled himself from his tragic pose and smiled at her.

“What’s her name?” Eponine relented.

“Cosette,” Courfeyrac said. “Isn’t that the loveliest name?”

“Sure,” Eponine agreed flatly.

“The birds sing when she draws near,” Courfeyrac proclaimed, a hand over his heart.

“Have you asked her out yet?”

Eponine was well familiar with this pattern of Courfeyrac’s. Love at first sight, wooing, dating, and finally heartbreak. The usual cycle lasted about three months. Eponine’s patience with the cycle was far shorter.

“Alas,” Courfeyrac said. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to her. Fate has arranged it so that we don’t have a single class together.”

Eponine pulled a face.

“What’d I miss?” Grantaire asked, sliding into the seat next to Eponine’s. His curly hair was shoved haphazardly into a beanie and his hands were filthy with charcoal. Eponine eyed them with misgiving.

“Courfeyrac’s in love,” she told Grantaire, inching away from him to protect her white shirt.

“Oh, are you? What’s her name? Is she beautiful?”

Grantaire, who was even more hopeless with women than he was with men, wasn’t asking out of romantic interest. Many of Courfeyrac’s exes had ended up as models for one of Grantaire’s art projects.

“She has the face of an angel,” Courfeyrac said, without any discernable irony.

“Yeah? What’s her name?” Grantaire asked, stealing the roll off Courfeyrac’s plate while Courfeyrac swooned.

“Cosette.”

Grantaire froze, his mouth full of roll. “Cosette Fauchelevent?”

“You know her?” Courfeyrac asked, seizing Grantaire’s free hand and pulling him half-across the table. “Isn’t she divine?”

Grantaire swallowed. “Yeah, she’s great. But there’s a rumor that she’s dating P-“

He stopped and looked at Eponine.

“What? I don’t listen to gossip,” she said.

Then she saw them, across the lunchroom.

Marius Pontmercy, star of the tennis team and her inexplicable crush, was arm-in-arm with a beautiful girl, whose black hair cascaded down her back and whose smile lit up the room. She looked infuriatingly like an angel.

She determinedly turned back to her food, even though she wasn’t feeling much like eating anymore.

“Pontmercy!” Courfeyrac wailed, though thankfully not loudly enough that Marius heard him. “What on earth do women see in him? No offense, Ponine.”

Eponine glared at him. It was an unspoken rule that Eponine’s embarrassing crush was never to be spoken of.

Grantaire, who knew a thing or two about embarrassing crushes, nudged her leg under the table. “Well, it’s only a rumor,” he said doubtfully.

Eponine didn’t look at either of them, fiddling with her fork. She wanted to turn around and look Marius again but she didn’t want to be pitied. She also didn’t want to see him smiling at the oh-so-angelic Cosette.

Eponine contemplated pretending not to be home when she looked through the peephole of her apartment door and saw Courfeyrac bouncing on her doorstep.

She was fresh off a shift at the movie theater, her feet hurt and she didn’t want to speak to another human being for the rest of her life, let alone one as exhausting as Courfeyrac but, against her better judgment, she opened the door.

“Ponine!” said Courfeyrac, throwing up his arms. A small shower of glitter rained down from a pile of papers he was holding.

“No glitter,” she said.

“It’s too late,” Courfeyrac said, pushing his way past her and settling on her couch without an invitation. “I’m a glitter carrier. You’re doomed to live a life that is mildly more magical.”

A couple of years ago, Grantaire had started hanging out with Enjolras and the rest of the social justice club because he was a self-destructive idiot with terrible taste in men. Eponine, if she’d had any sense, would have kept her distance. The Amis were like a chest cold. They were easy to catch and difficult to get rid of and they infected every aspect of one’s life.

She had always been a loner because of her family situation but now she had fifteen names in her phone instead of two. She now had Combeferre to help her budget her limited finances, Joly to sneak her free health care at the clinic he volunteered at, Feuilly had gotten her job at the movie theater, Bahorel was teaching her how to box.

And she had Courfeyrac to get glitter all over her couch. Courfeyrac was a bit of a mixed blessing.

“What the hell is all of this?” Eponine said, poking the pile of papers with a finger.

Courfeyrac rifled through the papers and, with an exclamation of triumph, pulled out one ominously labeled “the Plan” in what appeared to be pink gel pen.

“No,” Eponine said flatly.

Courfeyrac, being the way he was, viewed this as an opening of negotiations.

“I’ve really thought this through, Ponine. It’s the only way.”

“The only way for what?” she asked, picking up a sheet of paper. Cosette’s name was written at the top in blue gel pen surrounded by silver hearts.

“It’s the only way for us to be happy,” he replied, grabbing her hand in his.

Courfeyrac was entirely sincere even when being entirely dramatic.

“You want to break Marius and Cosette up?” Eponine asked, warily.

“No! They aren’t dating. I had it confirmed by at least three independent sources. But that doesn’t mean that they couldn’t start dating at any time! Women seem to find Pontmercy irresistible and Cosette is perfection itself. We have to cut this off at the pass.”

Eponine rolled her eyes. “Hence the Plan.”

Courfeyrac’s eyes shined. “The Plan,” he agreed, reverently.

The Plan was surprisingly simple for something that took up about fifteen sheets of paper.

Well, it was simple after Eponine had ruthlessly stripped it of several unnecessary sidelines including closets, false identities, and moonlight serenades.

(“Not the moonlight serenade!”

“You can’t even sing Courfeyrac!”)

The plan was this: Eponine would befriend Cosette by joining the poetry club and Courfeyrac would befriend Marius by actually talking to him. Apparently they were in the same literature class. They would subtly undermine the burgeoning romance and then offer to set them up with some old friends. It was foolproof, Courfeyrac said.

“I don’t like poetry,” Eponine said. It was a lie but it was still unfair that Courfeyrac had to put in less effort.

“But Cosette does,” Courfeyrac said. “And I know that you have Thursday’s off so don’t even front.”

“The last thing that I want to do on my day off is listen to badly written student poetry,” Eponine protested.

“Maybe some of it will be good. Jehan’s in the club, you know, and they're good. Besides, I’m sure Cosette is marvelous!”

Eponine wondered if she was going to sprain something, rolling her eyes so much.

“Why don’t you ask Jehan to make nice to her?”

“They might steal her away for themselves,” Courfeyrac said, with slightly crazy eyes.

Eponine had always thought that Jehan didn’t seem interested in women. Or in men. Or possibly in their fellow human beings. They did seem rather interested in Emily Dickinson but Eponine was pretty sure that didn’t count.

“I don’t know what Jehan’s deal is,” Coufeyrac said. “And I can’t take any chances. They’re as cute as a button and I can’t stand the competition.”

Eponine, who had seen the rest of the poetry club and knew that Jehan was the clear forerunner, reluctantly agreed to try going to the meeting.

“But don’t blame me if she doesn’t want to be friends,” Eponine warned Courfeyrac as she herded him out the door.

“Why wouldn’t she?” Courfeyrac asked, genuinely confused, which was nice of him.

Eponine didn’t want to explain to Courfeyrac, who was known to the whole school and liked by most of them, that Eponine wasn’t exactly in the business of making friends, particularly not with the pretty popular girls who had money for new shoes every year.

Eponine flopped on her bed. “Poetry,” she muttered and then laughed.

Before school Eponine met up with Grantaire. For once he was mostly awake, but only because Combeferre and Enjolras were there as well and they always brought coffee.

With a faint smile, Combeferre offered her a cup. He always got it exactly the way she liked, just a hint of sweetness.

“Started early this morning?” she said, gesturing towards Grantaire and Enjolras, who were engaging in some sort of debate about some scholar whose name she only vaguely recognized. Enjolras was bright red with anger and Grantaire’s eyes were narrowed and glittering.

“Yes,” Combeferre said, amused. “Are you coming to the meeting tonight to witness round two?”

“No,” Eponine said, quickly taking a sip of her coffee.

“Ah, that’s right. Poetry club.”

Eponine gave him a look. He smiled blandly. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Everyone joked that Combeferre and Courfeyrac were telepathically linked.

“What do you know about this Cosette girl?”

Combeferre tilted his head to the side. “She’s a third year. She transferred from another school last semester. Her father’s involved in local politics. She’s in the poetry club, volunteers at the local retirement community, and her favorite color is blue.”

“No blood type?” Eponine said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m disappointed in you, Combeferre.”

He grinned, suddenly looking his own age. “I friended her on facebook.”

“Ah.” She took a sip of her coffee and then grabbed Grantaire lightly by his hair.

“Come on,” she said over his protests. “We should head to class.”

She saluted Combeferre with her coffee, ignored Enjolras, and dragged Grantaire to class. He was never on time otherwise.

The problem with his brilliant plan, Courfeyrac thought, was that he didn’t actually want to be friends with Marius Pontmercy.

It wasn’t just that Pontmercy was rich, though everyone knew that he was. It wasn’t just that he was popular in old teen movie sort of way, though he was. It wasn’t even that Pontmercy had campaigned for the conservative candidate for prime minister their freshman year, though he had.

It was however, some combination of those factors.

He wondered how you even made friends with someone like that. Was he supposed to pretend to be straight? Was he supposed to pretend to like sports or business? Was he, god-forbid, not supposed to express his emotions?

“I don’t think I can do this,” Courfeyrac hissed.

Phones weren’t allowed in school but the bathrooms got tolerable reception.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Combeferre reminded him. “It’s your plan.”

“It’s a good plan,” Courfeyrac said.

“Sure,” Combeferre said, in a way that meant he didn’t think so at all.

“Screw you,” Courfeyrac pouted, kicking his feet against the stall door. “I’m going to make friends with him and get invited to all his rich friends’ parties and steal a yacht and leave you all here to pine away without me.”

“You’ll come back for Marius and Eponine’s wedding, I hope?”

“No,” Courfeyrac said, contemplatively. “I think I’m going to die at sea. It will be very tragic because I am so very young. Cosette will come to my funeral, radiant in black, and fling herself on my coffin, announcing her love for me.”

Combeferre was laughing, silently, but Courfeyrac could hear it anyway.

“Good luck with that,” Combeferre said and hung up.

Courfeyrac decided to take the easiest route and just sit next to Marius in class. The girl who usually sat in that seat hovered over him for a minute, glaring, but he stood his ground and she was forced to retreat to the back of the room.

Marius watched these proceedings with an air of bafflement. Courfeyrac offered him his sunniest smile. Marius smiled back but it was hesitant.

"Hey. I'm Courf."

Marius looked at him as though he had grown a second head. "I know."

"Just thought we should be formally introduced," Courfeyrac offered his hand, smiling outwardly and wincing internally. This was not going as well as one could hope.

Marius took his hand, though, and his handshake was firm. "Marius."

"I know," Courfeyrac said, cheekily.

Marius flushed but grinned. He went right back to the assigned reading, though, which wasn't exactly the foundation of a strong friendship.

"I want to learn how to play tennis," Courfeyrac blurted out, a little too loudly. The teacher ignored him, though, intent on filling out her crossword puzzle.

"Really?" Marius looked surprised but maybe a little pleased.

"Yes," Courfeyrac said with confidence, as though his interest in tennis was older than ten seconds. "I know you're the star of the tennis team and I thought maybe you could teach me."

Marius flushed bright red again. How can Eponine like someone who so resembles a strawberry, Courfeyrac thought, watching the blush spread in fascination.

"I don't know-"

"I'll pay you!" Courfeyrac instantly regretted the offer. He wasn't in Eponine's situation or anything but he definitely didn't have enough spare cash lying around for tennis lessons.

"Oh no!" Marius was clearly dismayed, "I really couldn't charge you. I mean-"

He looked kind of frantic and then after a moment, shoved his book in Courfeyrac's face. "This!"

"Er," Courfeyrac said, examining what seemed to be a perfectly ordinary copy of Moliere's Tartuffe. Was it code for something?

"You're good at theater, right? I mean, people say you are."

"Do you want to act?" Courfeyrac asked dubiously.

Marius went even redder. "Not me! I just want to do well in this class. I don't really get-" He waved his hand in the air.

"A trade," Courfeyrac said slowly. "Tennis for theater."

He smiled suddenly. "I like it! You have a deal, Mr. Pontmercy."

Marius smiled in clear relief. "Are you free after school? I can show you some basics?"

Courfeyrac looked at him in surprise. He had expected to have to hunt down Marius for a gap in his schedule.

"Okay!" he said before remembering that it was Thursday. "Oh actually, I have a social justice club meeting thing. Enj will eat me if I don't show up."

Marius looked suitably concerned by this prospect. Enjolras was well known to the rest of the student body. Notorious, in fact.

"After that?" Marius suggested, carefully. "There's a tennis court in my neighborhood."

"Sure," Courfeyrac said, watching Marius eagerly write down the address. That had been easier than expected.

Eponine actually enjoyed herself at poetry club. She had no intention of telling Courfeyrac.

She had never been much of a reader but when she’d had the time, it was always poetry that she turned to so she was able to keep up with the discussions of Neruda (better in the Spanish), Baudelaire (overrated), and de la Fontaine (had these people heard of anything from the last twenty years?).

She had been too much of a coward to sit next to Cosette, choosing instead to sit next to Jehan. Jehan had clearly been informed of the Plan, though, because they called Cosette to sit next to them, meaning that Cosette also sat next to Eponine.

Cosette was even prettier up close, making Eponine aware of her ragged nails and out of date clothes. Annoyingly, she appeared to be genuinely friendly, inquiring not just after Eponine’s favorite poets but also after her interests and hobbies.

“Ah, the social justice club,” she said, after Eponine mentioned it. “Jehan has brought it up once or twice. So has Courfeyrac. Do you know him?”

“I do,” Eponine said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “He’s a really great guy”

She felt Jehan stifle a laugh next to her. She elbowed them in the ribs.

“He seems nice,” Cosette said, with the general enthusiasm that she approached everything.

“You should come to a meeting,” Eponine suggested. “It’s cheaper than paying for movie tickets.

Jehan laughed out loud this time.

Cosette looked at them both questioningly.

“There’s a lot of personality,” Jehan explained, which was the understatement of the year. “They meet on Mondays and Thursdays.”

“Will you be there on Monday?”

Jehan nodded and Cosette looked to Eponine as though she cared whether or not Eponine would be there as well.

“If I can get off work,” Eponine said. “I don’t work regular shifts on Monday, so probably.”

“Oh, where do you work?”

“The movie theater, a hotel, and I give tours of the city during tourist season,” Eponine answered, defensive.

Cosette’s eyes widened. “How impressive.”

Eponine shrugged this off. “I don’t do it for fun. What about you?”

“Oh,” Cosette looked startled, as though the idea of working had never occurred to her. “I work for Papa occasionally but I don’t work properly, not like you.”

Eponine nodded, not sure what to say next. Thankfully Jehan took over the conversation, asking Cosette’s opinion on the latest poem that they were working on.

She knew that she wasn’t doing all that much to win over Cosette but if she showed up to the meeting, Courfeyrac could seize the opportunity to charm her and Eponine would have fulfilled her part of the bargain.

After the meeting, she escaped with gratitude to the bus stop. Unfortunately, she had just missed her bus and had to settle into a wait.

“Hey.”

Eponine looked to see Cosette leaning out of a surprisingly old car.

“Hi.”

“Hop in. I’ll give you a ride.”

Eponine wanted to refuse but it hadn’t been phrased like a question and, besides, she couldn’t really tell Cosette that the reason that she didn’t want a ride was because she didn’t want Cosette to see her neighborhood.

She got in the car.

Predictably Marius’ house was in an old part of the city where you could practically smell the money wafting from the windows of the houses.

Courfeyrac shouldn’t have been surprised when a maid opened the door and offered to lead him to “Mr. Pontmercy” but as soon as she had left him alone with Marius in the kitchen, he blurted out, “Holy shit, dude. You have a maid!”

Marius blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Marie. She’s very nice.”

“Seems like it,” Courfeyrac said, inspecting the kitchen. “Do you cook much?”

“Hardly at all,” Marius said, looking uncomfortable.

The kitchen certainly didn’t look as though it had been used, possibly ever. It looked like something in those home catalogs Courfeyrac’s mother was always perusing. It looked like no one lived there.

“Tennis?” Courfeyrac suggested. “I didn’t bring a racket to school or anything.”

Marius brightened. “I have an extra one that you can use. Come on, I’ll grab it.”

Marius’ room was less pristine than the rest of the house. There were posters on the wall, almost as many political movements as tennis stars, Courfeyrac was surprised to note, even though he didn’t like all of the politics on display. It was clean, certainly compared to Courfeyrac’s room, but there was a scattering of books on the table. Courfeyrac inspected them while Marius dug through his closet, looking for the racket.

“You’re taking Chinese and German?” Courfeyrac asked.

“And English,” Marius said sheepishly, emerging from the closet, a racket in one hand, hair mussed. “I like languages.”

Apparently Eponine’s Marius wasn’t an idiot, not if the level of the books was anything to go by. And he was, as Courfeyrac learned over the next couple hours, a fairly good teacher.

“You’ve got the basics down,” Marius congratulated him, bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking pleased.

“Leave me here to die,” Courfeyrac said, lying on the tennis court. “I didn’t have any idea that this was so much work.”

Marius laughed. “We’ve been out here for a while. Do you want dinner?”

“Sure,” Courfeyrac said. “But only if you carry me back to the house.”

Marius offered him a hand up.

“I like the car,” Eponine said, after they had been driving a few moments in silence.

Cosette smiled. “Thanks! Papa wanted to get me something newer but I fell in love with her. She has personality.”

As the personality didn’t seem to include air conditioning or electronic windows, Eponine understood Cosette’s father’s objections. All the same, she hadn’t been lying when she said that she liked the car.

“Turn right here,” Eponine said. Cosette obeyed.

“Are you really going to come on Monday?” Eponine asked.

“Oh yes. I’ve been meaning to go, but you know how it is with one thing and another. How long have you been going?”

“Since it was founded.”

“Wow, you must be pretty passionate.”

Eponine laughed so hard that she almost missed pointing out the next turn.

“Yeah, not so much,” she said, once she caught her breath. “My friend is in love with the founder and he requires supervision.”

Cosette smiled. “So you don’t care at all?”

“Nope.” Eponine popped the ‘P’.

“You know, I’m not sure that I believe you,” Cosette laughed.

They pulled up to Eponine’s building, an ugly postwar construction that was ideal more in terms of rent than for any other reason.

“Well, you can see for yourself next week. Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem,” Cosette said, not looking at Eponine’s building but right at Eponine’s face. “I’ll see you then."

Courfeyrac had more or less expected that they would order a pizza not they would eat in the formal dining room with Marius’ grandfather and aunt.

The food was excellent, the company was complicated. M. Gillenormand was alternatively offensive and entertaining. Courfeyrac wasn’t shy and he had no problem laughing at the funny jokes and vigorously calling out the offensive.

“I’ve never seen anyone argue with grandfather like that,” Marius said, awed, as he walked Courfeyrac to the metro station.

“Sorry,” Courfeyrac said, rubbing the back of his head.

“No, it was great!”

Courfeyrac looked at him in surprise.

“He made the best face when you said that thing about homeless shelters,” Marius said. “It was amazing.”

“I thought you were, ah, more aligned with your grandfather’s politics,” Courfeyrac said as tactfully as he could, considering that he had spent the last hour tearing apart those politics.

Marius flushed. “I used to be,” he said stiffly. “But not anymore.”

“Well, good for you for breaking the brainwashing,” Courfeyrac told him, squeezing his shoulder.

Marius looked at him, grateful, and Courfeyrac was moved to invite him to the Amis meeting on Monday.

“You should come and then we can study for literature afterwards,” Courfeyrac suggested. “Maybe over dinner?"

Marius agreed eagerly.

Eponine was proud of her plan to bring Cosette to the Amis meeting. She found Cosette unsettling somehow and it would be good to discharge her duty. Even if Courfeyrac was successful in winning her over, Eponine wasn’t likely to spend much time with her.

Cosette immediately thwarted this plan by waiting for Eponine outside the classroom.

“Hi,” she said, smiling widely.

“Hello,” Eponine said warily.

“I’ve come to see the show for myself,” Cosette said, taking Eponine’s arm just as though they were old friends.

The first person she saw when she walked in the room was Marius fucking Pontmercy. He was sitting at a table that was too short to accommodate his height and looking uncomfortable but fascinated.

The second person she saw was Courfeyrac who was looking at Cosette, comically startled.

"We just brought them closer together," Courfeyrac hissed, watching Cosette and Marius chat away, both of them smiling brightly at the other.

"Why on earth did you bring him here?" Eponine hissed back.

"He was interested. And why-"

"As entertaining as this is," Combeferre said from behind them, "Enjolras is glaring so hard he might sprain something. I think he wants to start the meeting."

He said this loud enough that everyone could hear. Marius and Cosette both looked abashed, Marius also a little terrified. Enjolras- well, he pouted. There was really no other word for it. Combeferre just smiled serenely. Eponine didn't care what anyone else thought, he was definitely the scariest of the Amis.

"I call this meeting to order," Enjolras called out, straightening his face into something more dignified. He used to have a gavel but some merciful citizen had stolen it for the public good.

(Eponine knew it had been Feuilly and also knew that Enjolras would suspect literally everyone else first).

"First on the agenda," Enjolras said, "we should discuss the upcoming school bake sale and how best to use it as a platform for spreading awareness about food shortages and world hunger."

Eponine looked to Grantaire, hoping to have someone to roll her eyes with, but Grantaire, for once, wasn't paying any attention to Enjolras. Instead, he was staring at Cosette. Eponine took out her phone.

you're being creepy

Grantaire startled at the buzz of his phone. He read the message and looked up to make a truly hideous face at Eponine. Bossuet caught sight of it and had to suppress a laugh, earning a suspicious look from Enjolras.

"Sorry," Bossuet said, with a sunny smile. "Allergies."

Enjolras rolled his eyes and opened the floor to suggestions. Eponine took the opportunity to text Grantaire again.

Seriously though

i can't help it. she's so pretty. i am going to paint her as venus with oils

Eponine rolled her eyes and caught Cosette looking at her. Cosette gave her a little smile. Eponine gave her an interrogating look. "Having fun?" she mouthed.

Cosette's mouth twitched and she raised her hand.

"Yes?" Enjolras said, eyeing the newcomer with caution.

"Wouldn't a campaign on food scarcity be better received at the school cafeteria? The bake sale is for a good cause, after all, and likely amounts to much less waste than the cafeteria produces daily."

"That's a brilliant idea," Courfeyrac said, smiling at her.

"Yes, it is," Marius agreed with admiration.

Eponine rolled her eyes. "I doubt that the administration is going to allow us to protest lunch."

"Hunger strike," Enjolras said, a revolutionary fire brimming in his eyes.

Combeferre flicked his ear. "You can't afford to lose the weight."

"And it's not like anorexia is going to force the school's hand," Eponine said.

"It’s true that one seldom sees the cheerleaders with civic interests" Grantaire mocked. "But we'd have to rely on the administration to tell an emaciated Enjolras apart from them. “

Marius looked shocked. Cosette laughed quietly.

Enjolras looked more annoyed at having been thwarted than on being compared to a cheerleader. "Do you have a better idea?"

"Any idea is better than a hunger strike," Eponine said, with the firmness of one who had been hungry. Feuilly nodded in acknowledgement.

"We can hand out pamphlets at the beginning the lunch line," Courfeyrac suggested. "With facts about food waste and hunger."

"In France," Cosette said, firmly. "People forget that it's a problem here, too."

Enjolras was regarding Cosette with something very nearing approval. Courfeyrac and Marius might as well have had hearts for eyes. Grantaire looked as though he might whip out a sketchbook then and there, so as not to pass up the opportunity to preserve Cosette for posterity.

Eponine scowled and put her feet up on the table.

Courfeyrac would have tried to way-lay Cosette after the meeting but Marius was turning to him like an eager puppy, saying, "Do you still have time to go over the play?"

Courfeyrac's resolve crumbled like a sandcastle in the face of Marius' vaguely pathetic enthusiasm. Not for the first time since speaking to him yesterday, Courfeyrac had the impression that Marius was lonely.

"Of course," Courfeyrac said, slinging an arm around Marius' shoulders, pointedly ignoring the incredulous look that Eponine gave him as she left the room.

They ended up at Courfeyrac's house. Courfeyrac told Marius that this was because turn about was fair play but it was actually because Courfeyrac's house wasn't sad or terrifying.

"Mama, I brought a new guest," Courfeyrac called out.

His mother emerged from her office, smiling at Marius. "Hello."

Marius flushed to the tips of his hair. "Hello. Thank you for having me."

"Oh, it's no trouble. Courfeyrac, make sure to tell your father that we have an extra mouth to feed if your friend is staying for dinner."

She winked at Courfeyrac, clearly having obtained the entirely wrong impression about Marius' visit.

"Okay. We'll be studying in my room until then,” he said pointedly.

It wasn't until Courfeyrac had introduced Marius to his father and they were halfway up the stairs that Courfeyrac realized that Marius had hardly said a word.

"You do want to stay for dinner, don't you?"

Marius nodded so rapidly that it looked painful. "Yes, definitely."

"Well, okay," Courfeyrac opened the door to his room. It was messy but not as bad as it could have been. There were even still parts of the floor that were visible. Courfeyrac picked his way through the mess and cleared his bed of the myriad of clothes, props, and books that had ended up there.

Marius regarded his room with wide eyes.

"Sorry about the mess," Courfeyrac said cheerfully, "but I'm an irredeemable slob. Have a seat."

Marius made it over to the bed, only knocking down one pile of books, which was, Courfeyrac informed him, actually pretty impressive for a beginner. Enjolras inevitably knocked down everything and had been boycotting Courfeyrac's room since last November.

"So Moliere. Tartuffe is pretty good. Not the best Moliere play but not everything can be the Misanthrope. It was written in-“

"Should I be taking notes?" Marius asked, politely interrupting him.

Courfeyrac laughed and then thought about it. "Probably," he said, rubbing his chin before diving into the mess. He emerged with a Lisa Frank notebook and a pen.

Courfeyrac decided that Marius was kind of great when he didn't laugh at the notebook, and instead just folded the cover back, pen poised and ready to take notes. There was a small crease in-between his eyebrows. He looked adorable.

"Start from the beginning," Marius said.

Eponine somehow found herself walking to the bus stop with Grantaire, which was usual, and Cosette, which was not. Courfeyrac was supposed to take the opportunity to spend time with her! And he was supposed to help her with Marius!

"You are growling, a bit," Grantaire informed her, absently.

"Don't sketch while you walk," Eponine snapped.

Grantaire managed to whip his sketchbook away from her grasp but only because he had a great deal of practice.

"What did Courf do to piss you off?" he wanted to know, continuing to shade what appeared to be Enjolras' eyebrows.

"Nothing," Eponine said with a quick glance at Cosette, who was trying to get a better look at Grantaire's drawing. "He's just being Courf."

Grantaire nodded sagely. "Well, he can't exactly help that. Do you know, I didn't expect to see Pontmercy at our meeting."

Cosette looked uninterested in that line of conversation, which pleased Eponine mightily. "Are you drawing Enjolras? It's very good."

Grantaire flushed. "Thank you."

"Eponine said you're in love with him," Cosette continued blithely.

"Hey," Eponine said, trying to glare at Cosette while simultaneously looking apologetic at Grantaire.

Grantaire didn't seem to mind though. "Yeah," he said.

"I think you'd make a lovely couple," Cosette said, tucking her arm through his. "Do you think you might draw me some time?"

Grantaire beamed at her. "I would love to.”

Eponine rolled her eyes. Cosette saw and winked at her.

Courfeyrac wasn’t sure if one could call the Plan a success. The first step of befriending Marius Pontmercy was definitely a success. One might even call it a resounding success. Marius was enthusiastic about learning about theater, Marius was enthusiastic about tennis, Marius was enthusiastic about the Amis. In fact, Courfeyrac had yet to suggest anything that Marius wasn’t enthusiastic about. They had spent every afternoon that week together, except for Wednesday when Marius had a study group.

“Are you leaving me for Marius?” Combeferre asked gravely, on their way to the Thursday Amis meeting.

“I would never,” Courfeyrac protested, flinging himself on Combeferre’s back. He pressed kisses to the side of Combeferre’s face, while Combeferre laughed.

“Not even if he promises you a yacht?” Combeferre asked, adjusting Courfeyrac so that he could carry him down the hall more easily.

“He doesn’t have one,” Courfeyrac said, triumphantly. “I asked. No boat parties.”

“Shame,” Combeferre said. “Open the door, would you?”

Eponine wasn't at the meeting and neither were Cosette and Jehan. But Marius was, cheerfully talking to Joly and Bossuet.

He looked up and smiled uncertainly at Courfeyrac, who was still clinging to Combeferre's back. Courfeyrac smiled back and dug his heels into Combeferre's sides. Combeferre heaved a sigh but willingly brought Courfeyrac over to Marius and deposited him in a chair.

"You are my favorite, forever and ever," Courfeyrac informed him.

Combeferre nodded like this was his due and went to go defuse a fight between Enjolras and whomever he was talking to on the phone.

"Cosette isn't coming," Grantaire said, disgustedly regarding his phone. "I was hoping to sketch her."

"It's poetry day," Courfeyrac said. "And since when do you and Cosette text?"

Grantaire stuck his tongue out. "Since she decided she likes me best."

"She clearly likes Eponine best," Bossuet said. Joly nodded in agreement.

Marius looked curious. "Are you interested in Cosette?" he asked Grantaire.

Grantaire barked out a laugh. "Only aesthetically. Well, not only. I'm pretty sure she's a total badass. But I don't want to date her. My heart belongs to another."

"Who?" Marius asked, innocently. "Eponine?"

"Not exactly," Grantaire said dryly.

Joly and Bossuet laughed, pointing their thumbs at Enjolras with all the subtlety of a freight train.

Marius regarded Enjolras with horror. Oh shit, Courfeyrac thought. Here was the straight boy freak out he'd been expecting.

"But he's-" Marius said, flushing to the roots of his hair. "He's so scary!"

Joly and Bossuet howled with laughter. Courfeyrac flung an arm around Marius' shoulders, with a broad grin. "He's not so bad," he said cheerfully.

It was no surprise that Enjolras became curious about the noise and came over to investigate. Even less of a surprise, Grantaire made some snide comment that pissed Enjolras off and they started bickering. As with all of Enjolras and Grantaire's fights, both of them were a little too sharp and a little too clever. Courfeyrac exchanged exasperated glances with Combeferre over their heads.

Marius watched this all with fascination.

"He doesn't look in love to me," Marius muttered to Courfeyrac.

Courfeyrac smirked at him. "Do you have a lot of experience with love, Mr. Pontmercy?"

Marius went fire-engine red. "No," he said, looking a little glum. "Do you?"

Enjolras heard this part of the exchange and snorted, loudly.

"Oh my young friend," Courfeyrac said, to cover his hurt. "I have been in love so very many times. Men, women-"

"His own reflection, once," Joly said slyly.

Courfeyrac shot him a wounded look as everyone laughed, except Marius, who was looking at him with a strange expression.

Courfeyrac looked back inquiringly and Marius looked away, flustered.

At least he wasn't in love with Cosette, Courfeyrac thought, cheerfully. That was promising.

Eponine got home from her Saturday double at the hotel and immediately collapsed face first on the bed. She knew, from experience, that she would regret going to sleep without washing her face or taking off her jeans but on the other hand, movement didn't seem like an attractive proposition.

She was jerked out of her stupor by the phone ringing. She blindly reached for it, answering the call without looking at who it was.

"Hello," she said. "And fuck off."

A burst of musical laughter greeted her words. So it wasn't Grantaire or Courfeyrac or any of the other Amis.

"Hello to you too."

"Where'd you get my number?" Eponine asked Cosette, rolling onto her back.

"Grantaire," Cosette said.

The traitor. He was too easily led astray by pretty things.

"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight," Cosette said, the laughter still lingering in her voice. "But now I think that you might be too tired?"

Eponine dragged herself up into a seating position. "What'd you have in mind?" she asked cautiously.

"Nothing much," Cosette assured her. "I was thinking of watching a movie. Maybe ordering a pizza. You could stay over if you like."

"A sleepover?"

Cosette laughed. "I guess. Though you don't seem like the type to sit around gossiping about boys and painting nails."

Eponine looked at her nails, ragged and unpolished. "I do like pillow fights."

"Consider me terrified," Cosette said. "Does that mean you're coming?"

"Send me the address," Eponine said.

She didn't really see how the sleepover was going to help Courfeyrac’s cause but, contrary to his belief, not everything was about Courfeyrac.

Not for the first time, Eponine realized that she didn't have any female friends. She had been close with her sister before she had been emancipated but they hadn't talked since. The only other female Amis was Musichetta, Joly and Bossuet's girlfriend, but she had graduated last year and Eponine had never been all that close to her anyways. It might be nice to spend time with another girl, even one as alien to Eponine as Cosette.

Eponine managed to keep herself from feeling nervous until she rang the door of Cosette's house. A burly middle-aged man with a face like a bulldog answered.

"Javert," she said, nearly stumbling back.

For a moment he looked as surprised as she felt and then his usual blank expression reasserted itself. "Ms. Thenardier.”

Eponine was saved from having to start a conversation by Cosette, who appeared over Javert's shoulder, smiling sunnily. "Eponine!"

Javert looked at Cosette and then back at Eponine before stepping aside to let her in. Eponine edged by him.

"Come," Cosette said. "I'll introduce you to Papa before he and Javert leave. It's date night, you know."

Eponine's mind was still reeling from the fact that Javert was human enough to date when she was introduced to Cosette's papa, who turned out to be Jean Valjean, the up-and-coming politician who had run for mayor last year. Eponine was pretty sure that Enjolras had a picture of him in his locker.

"Very nice to meet you, sir," Eponine said, blankly.

Valjean smiled gently, radiating goodwill. Eponine couldn't imagine what such a man was doing dating Inspector Javert.

"You two enjoy yourselves," he said.

"And you," Cosette said, eyes crinkling. "Don't stay out too late."

Valjean gave her a fond look. Cosette dragged Eponine away. She had soft hands, Eponine noticed, a little enviously.

"Do you know Javert?" Cosette asked.

"He arrested my parents," Eponine said bluntly.

"Oh," Cosette said, vaguely, opening a door and pulling Eponine inside. "That's how he and Papa met, too."

"Um-"

"This is my room," Cosette announced.

“It’s less pink than I thought it would be,” Eponine said, because her surprise had apparently damaged her brain to mouth filter.

Cosette wrinkled her nose. “I don’t really care for pink. Come on, I haven’t decided on a movie yet.”

They decided on something with explosions and fast cars because Eponine was frankly sick of watching arty movies with Grantaire and Cosette had action movies and romance movies and nothing in-between.

“I know what I like,” she said with a shrug.

What she also liked was pineapple on her pizza, which was repulsive, sparkly nail polish, which was all right, and gossiping about nuns, which was completely unexpected.

“Catholic school,” Cosette said with a shrug, finishing a coat of gunmetal gray on Eponine’s left hand. “Papa thought it would instill me with values.”

“Did it work?”

Cosette thought for a moment. “No,” she said, after a moment. “It was Papa who did that.”

“Opposite of my father, then,” Eponine said, hunching her shoulders.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Cosette said, capping the nail polish bottle.

Eponine looked at her, questioning.

“Your parents fostered me, for a while,” Cosette said, matter-of-fact. “Before Papa adopted me.”

Eponine gaped at her for a minute. There was a rotating door of them for a while, her parents greedy for state money. Surely she would have remembered -

“The lark,” she said, quietly.

Cosette laughed. “I forgot they used to call me that.”

“Look what became of you,” Eponine said, remembering a flash of a pale face and dirty hair.

“And look what became of you,” Cosette said, lightly punching Eponine’s shoulder. “I never would have been brave enough to strike off on my own. I think you’re incredible.”

Eponine felt herself blushing and looked away to hide it. “Does that mean I get to pick the next movie?”

“Why not?” said Cosette. “But you have to let me put sparkles on your nails.”

Eponine considered this for a moment. “It’s a deal.”

Courfeyrac actually found that he liked tennis. He knew for a fact that Marius was going easy on him but that didn't make his small victories any less enjoyable.

"I think I may be a tennis genius," Courfeyrac announced. "Move over Nadal. There's a new champion in town."

"Nadal's not the top player anymore," Marius said, smiling, bouncing the tennis ball.

"He's still the hottest," Courfeyrac said. "Well, probably. I don't know any others."

Marius served a little harder than he had been doing and Courfeyrac raced to return it, missing by inches.

"Ugh," he panted, jogging over to fetch the ball. "Do you know this is the most physical activity I’ve had since I quit tap dancing?"

"What made you want to learn tennis if you don't know anything about it?" Marius asked, giving Courfeyrac another strange look.

"Um-" Courfeyrac said. "The fashion?"

Marius looked at him for a second and then burst out laughing. His dimples showed in full force and his eyes were warm and blue.

That was the exact moment that Courfeyrac realized he was totally and completely in love with Marius fucking Pontmercy.

He dropped his tennis racket.

Marius stopped laughing, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yes! Um-I mean, no. I forgot- there's this family thing tonight. And I'm totally going to be late if I don't leave right this minute."

"Okay," Marius said, face creasing with concern.

“I have a problem,” Coufeyrac wailed, flinging himself onto Combeferre’s bed.

This had the unfortunate side effect of bouncing Enjolras so that he slid onto the floor. He shot Courfeyrac a look that made him resemble an offended cat but Courfeyrac was too absorbed in his drama to much care.

“What is it this time?” Enjolras asked, hauling himself back onto the bed.

“I have feelings,” Courfeyrac said, despairingly. “For Marius Pontmercy.”

Enjolras looked unimpressed. Combeferre cleared his throat, pushed his glasses up his nose and went to grab a piece of paper from his desk. He handed it to Coufeyrac solemnly.

In Combeferre’s meticulous handwriting, it read: What to Do If You Find Yourself in Love with Marius Pontmercy. There were only two suggestions. 1. Ask him out, maybe? 2. Get a lobotomy. The second suggestion was in Enjolras’ handwriting.

“You magnificent assholes,” Courfeyrac said, awed. Enjolras and Combeferre were snickering.

"I can't ask him out," Courfeyrac said, ignoring Enjolras' suggestion entirely. "He's probably straight."

Combeferre pushed his glasses up his nose. "I doubt it."

"Oh?" Courfeyrac said, sitting up, looking carefully at Combeferre.

"He acts like a twelve-year old with a crush," Enjolras said, scornfully. "Blushing and stuttering."

"He blushes all the time," Courfeyrac said, dreamily.

"Around you, maybe," Enjolras said.

"Do you really think he might like me back?" Courfeyrac said, seizing them both by the hand.

"I take it back," Enjolras said. "You're the twelve-year old with a crush."

He didn't take his hand back though and Combeferre was smiling gently and that was the only reassurance that Courfeyrac really needed.

Courfeyrac settled happily back into Combeferre's pillows, thinking of a future where he could kiss Marius' blushing cheek and made lewd jokes about the frankly obscene tennis shorts that he wore. They could go to university together and Marius would be a translator for someone crazy important and Courfeyrac would be a famous actor or a social worker or a florist. They could get a dog.

"And to think that I wouldn't have got to know him if it weren't for the-" Courfeyrac trailed off, horrified. "Shit. Eponine."

Combeferre shook his head, a bit sadly. Enjolras looked confused.

"What about Eponine?"

"She's been in love with Marius forever," Courfeyrac said. "I was supposed to help them get together."

Enjolras' face scrunched up. "But I thought-"

"Enjolras, I love you," Courfeyrac said, "but you are not the best at recognizing hopeless long-term crushes."

Enjolras looked offended but he hadn't even realized that Joly and Bossuet had been dating until their one-year anniversary so he didn't have a leg to stand on and he knew it. Also, there was Grantaire. Which Enjolras didn’t know about. Probably.

"Just talk to her," Combeferre suggested.

"Ugh."

"Is this going to be a habit?" Eponine said, when Courfeyrac showed up at her door.

"No?" Courfeyrac said slowly.

She rolled her eyes. "Come in. Grantaire is already here. He and Cosette are doing art stuff."

Courfeyrac looked less interested in Cosette's presence than one would have expected. He, in fact, looked a little green.

"Do you want something to drink?" Eponine asked.

"Uh, no thanks," Courf said, following her to the bedroom.

Cosette was sitting on the bed, reading a book of Louise Glück that she had swiped from Eponine's shelf. Grantaire was sitting cross-legged on the floor, sketching her.

Cosette looked up and smiled cheerfully at Courfeyrac but it wasn't anything special. Then again, Courfeyrac's answering smile wasn't anything special either. That crush hadn't lasted long. It might even be a record, Eponine thought, sitting down next to Grantaire.

Courfeyrac hovered awkwardly over them, watching Grantaire sketch.

"Did you stop by for any particular reason?" Eponine asked irritably, when he hovered a little too close for comfort.

"Yes. Well, no. Not a reason, really."

"That was enlightening," Eponine said. "Spit it out."

"You're - Marius," Courfeyrac said. Only it sounded like he said, "Your Marius."

Cosette looked up from her book with interest.

"He isn't mine," Eponine snapped. She couldn't believe that Courfeyrac was willing to talk about the Plan in front of Cosette. His crush really hadn't lasted long but that didn't mean that Eponine wanted to be humiliated in front of her.

"No, of course not," Courfeyrac said, then winced. "Well, I don't mean of course. It's just, he's great. Marius."

"I'm glad you've made a friend," Eponine said slowly. "Good for you."

Courfeyrac blushed to the roots of his hair, an unusual occurrence since Courfeyrac usually had no shame. "Um-yes. Friends. Uh, let's talk later, okay."

"Bye," Eponine said, but Courfeyrac was already out the door.

“That was weird right?” Cosette said, looking after Courfeyrac. “I mean I don’t know him well-“

“It was weird,” Eponine confirmed, sitting on the bed with Cosette. “Even for Courfeyrac.”

“He’s in love with Marius,” Grantaire said, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he continued to sketch.

“What?” Eponine froze.

“Yeah, I mean I suspected as much. So I asked Enj and he confirmed.”

“You talked to Enjolras?” Eponine said. “And wait a minute. Has he been in love with him this whole time?”

The Plan started to seem like an ominous trap in her mind. Was she supposed to distract Cosette while Courfeyrac moved in on Marius? Had Courfeyrac just been lying to her this whole time?

Grantaire suddenly looked up from his drawing. “Oh shit, Ponine. I didn’t think. It’s not like that.”

“It’s fine,” she snapped. “Courf can go fall in love with whoever he wants. I hope Marius and he are very happy together."

“Well, I don’t know if Pontmercy’s interested,” Grantaire said, in a soothing tone that put Eponine’s back up right away.

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Cosette announced, watching Eponine with concern.

“What’s going on is Grantaire is a gossip who can’t keep his mouth shut,” Eponine said, glaring at Grantaire. “And Courfeyrac is an emotional slut.”

“So- I’m gonna go,” Grantaire said, standing up. “I didn’t mean to say anything. I wasn’t thinking. We’ll talk about it later?”

“No, we won’t,” Eponine said, warningly.

“Okay, okay,” Grantaire said, leaving.

“Should I go, too?” Cosette asked, lowering her book, watching Eponine carefully.

“Nah,” Eponine said, even though she didn’t really want Cosette to stay. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Hm,” Cosette said, putting the book on Eponine’s nightstand and crawling over to sit next to Eponine. Their shoulders brushed.

“Is it Courfeyrac or Marius?” she asked.

“What?”

“That you’re in love with.”

“Jeez,” Eponine said, recoiling from Cosette. “Neither. I’m not in love with either of them.”

Cosette gave her a disbelieving look.

“Look, I may have had a crush on Marius,” Eponine said, voice cracking, “but it wasn’t love or anything. It wasn’t serious.”

It had been serious, a long, long time ago, but Eponine knew that she had been using Marius as a stand-in for a while. He had ceased to be a person in her mind and had become an ideal to strive towards. Eponine wanted to be the kind of girl that wanted Marius Pontmercy. She wanted to be the kind of girl that could be comfortable in his fancy house and with his rich friends.

“Don’t cry,” Cosette said, gently taking hold of Eponine’s shoulder, “not until we have some ice cream in hand.”

“I didn’t get dumped, you know,” Eponine said, wiping angrily at her cheeks. “I just-“

“It’s hard to give up on someone, I know,” Cosette said, sounding tired. “Come on.”

Eponine let Cosette draw her to her feet and drive her to the grocery store.

"You seemed like you knew what you were talking about," Eponine said, nudging Cosette's foot under the table. "When you said that letting go of people was hard."

"I'm trying to let go of someone, right now," Cosette said, digging her spoon fiercely into her ice cream.

"Why?" Eponine said.

"They're not interested in me," Cosette said.

"I can't imagine who wouldn't be," Eponine said gruffly. She meant it, though. Cosette was steel wrapped in silk. She was the kind of girl that poems were written for.

"Yeah," Cosette said dryly. "Thanks."

"It's not Marius, is it?" Eponine asked.

Cosette nearly choked on her ice cream. "No," she said, coughing a little. "Why would you think that?"

"You seem friendly," Eponine said, defensively.

"Marius is easy to be friendly with. So is Courfeyrac," Cosette said. "It doesn't mean that I'm going to fall in love with either of them."

"What is your type, then?" Eponine asked, a little appalled at herself for asking the question.

"I don't know. I like all sorts of people. What's your type?"

Eponine shrugged, shoving a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. "I don't know," she said, around the ice cream.

"Marius?"

Eponine shrugged again. "He's not my usual type, I guess, other than the fact that he's good-looking. I've only ever dated the one guy."

"Oh? What happened to him?"

"He's in prison."

"Oh."

"Probably for the best," Eponine said. Montparnasse hadn't been a bad person but he had definitely been bad news.

"You're not going to fight Courfeyrac over Marius?" Cosette asked, after a minute of them stuffing their faces.

“Ha,” Eponine said.

“You don’t think you could?”

"It'd be like fighting a puppy. What's the point? Marius doesn't even know I exist, so even if he is straight, it's not like it was going anywhere. I'm just mad at Courf for lying to me, that's all.”

“Huh,” Cosette said thoughtfully, watching Eponine very carefully.

“What?” Eponine said, glaring. “You don’t think I mean it? I do.”

“Yes,” Cosette said. “I think you do. Hey, I know you’re working tomorrow but do you want to come over afterwards?”

Eponine’s brow furrowed at the change of subject. “Sure,” she said. “If you’re not sick of seeing me all the time.”

Cosette smiled. “I don’t think I’d ever get sick of seeing you.”

Eponine coughed, ducking her face to hide her blush. “Well, that’s-well.”

She stuck a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth before she could say anything stupid.

“So it went terribly,” Combeferre summarized, the next morning.

He hadn’t brought Courfeyrac any coffee, a sure sign of disfavor.

“I tried!” Courfeyrac protested. “But Cosette was there and Eponine was looking almost cheerful. I just couldn’t. And anyways, Grantaire apparently told her for me!”

Grantaire did not look appropriately guilty when Courfeyrac leveled a glare at him.

“Someone had to,” Grantaire said. “Best to rip it off like a band-aid when it comes to Ponine.”

“You’re lucky she didn’t punch you in the face,” Combeferre told him.

“She wouldn’t in front of Cosette,” Grantaire said, confidently. “She wants Cosette to think that she’s normal.

“I can’t believe they’re actually friends, now,” Courfeyrac marveled. “I wasn’t expecting them to really get along.”

“Just like you weren’t expecting to really get along with Marius,” Combeferre said, tone dry.

“Are you-“ Grantaire said, eyebrows flying up. He shut his mouth when Combeferre looked steadily at him. ”Huh.”

“What?” Courfeyrac demanded. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing yet,” Combeferre said, mysteriously. He enjoyed being cryptic. He thought it made him look cool and he was right, damn it.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Grantaire advised, swinging an arm around Courfeyrac’s shoulders. “Occupy your time thinking of ways to woo the strangely popular Pontmercy.”

“You look like shit,” Grantaire said, when Eponine sat down across from him at lunch. “Also, I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“I would have led with that,” suggested Courfeyrac, carefully. “But you do look a little ill.”

"I didn't sleep well," Eponine said.

Courfeyrac looked stricken. Eponine rolled her eyes. "I stayed up too late with Cosette, that's all."

Courf brightened. "I'm so glad you're getting along. See the Plan wasn't so-"

"Do not mention the Plan to me if you want to keep your balls," Eponine said pleasantly.

"Erp," Courfeyrac said, before smartly filling his mouth with food so he couldn't say anything else.

As though summoned, Cosette and Marius appeared at the doorway. Courfeyrac waved enthusiastically at them before stilling mid-wave and looking guiltily at Eponine.

Eponine felt the urge to stab herself with a fork or maybe to stab Grantaire, who was sniggering beside her.

Cosette and Marius came over, Marius sitting down next to Courfeyrac and Cosette next to Eponine. It was the double date they had dreamed of, Eponine thought with dark humor.

Cosette looked at her with concern, her hand gently touching Eponine's beneath the table. "Are you okay?" she murmured.

"Peachy," Eponine said. "I probably just had too much ice cream last night."

Cosette smiled and Eponine felt herself smiling back without a thought.

She realized that she hadn't so much as looked at Marius since he had sat down. She also realized that she hadn't looked at anyone but Cosette since she had sat down.

Finally, she realized she was screwed.

Marius came over to Courfeyrac's house after the meeting. Ostensibly they were studying theater but that had degraded into watching youtube videos and eating junk food on Courf's bed.

"Hey," Courf said, while they watched a tiny puppy try to climb stairs for the first time.

"What's up?" Marius asked, not looking away from the screen, laughing softly.

"Do you want a dog someday?"

"Sure," Marius said, cheerfully.

"Good, good. And do you maybe want to go on a date some time?"

Marius flailed and only Courfeyrac's quick reflexes stopped the laptop from tumbling off the bed. Unfortunately, his reflexes weren't good enough to keep himself from falling over the edge in his mad scramble to save the laptop. He hit the ground with a thud.

Marius' face appeared over the bed, flushed and concerned.

"Are you okay?"

"Never better," Courfeyrac answered. "I might live down here forever though because I'm broken."

Marius ignored this like a true friend. "Were you serious? About the date?"

"Yes," Courfeyrac said, staring at the ceiling. Grantaire had painted all the mythological constellations there, also one shaped like a dick. "Totally serious."

"And about the dog?" Marius asked, like that was the most important part of the conversation.

"And about the dog," Courfeyrac confirmed.

Marius got off the bed and joined Courfeyrac on the floor, lying on his side so close it felt like they were touching.

"I think you're really awesome," Marius said, putting a hand on Courfeyrac’s cheek and leaning down to kiss him.

"I was going to ask if you were okay," Courfeyrac's mom said amused, from the doorway. "But it seems like you're fine."

Marius tried to roll away but Courf stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"I'm awesome," Courfeyrac told his mom, beaming.

"Yeah, yeah. Dinner's in ten. Keep the door open."

Marius went a devastating brick red but he held Courfeyrac's hand all through dinner anyways.

"Hey."

"I hate you," Eponine said but she let Courfeyrac into her apartment anyways.

"I don't know what gave you the impression that I have an open door policy," she said, sitting on the couch, "but I don't. Also, I don't want you here."

"I know, I know," Courfeyrac said, joining her, sitting a little too close just like he always did.

"What is it this time?" she said. "I already know you're in love with Marius so I guess the next step would be that Marius is also in love with you. Am I right? Ha, I know I am.”

Eponine wanted to laugh at how guilty Courfeyrac looked but she had a reputation as a hardass to maintain so she settled for smirking.

"You know you could just text me these things or change your Facebook status and allow me to find out that way instead of coming here and bugging me."

"I just want you to be happy!" Courfeyrac wailed, flinging himself at Eponine. His elbow caught her hipbone and she bit her tongue in surprise.

"Well, I’m not happy right now," she said, firmly shoving at him.

Courfeyrac's hugs were not so easily denied. 'I'm sorry I stole your man. I didn't mean to. I was seduced by his awkward charm and lanky grace."

"I think," Eponine said, pinching Courfeyrac's inner arm, hard, "that it's a bit of a stretch to call Marius a man, don't you?"

Courfeyrac squirmed away, gaping at her. "Take that back, he's all man."

Eponine couldn't help it this time, she burst into laughter.

Courfeyrac looked a little terrified but also relieved.

"Jesus, it's fine," Eponine said. "Date your man, boy, whatever he is. I hope you're happy together but maybe not always around me, okay?"

"Okay," Courfeyrac agreed readily. Eponine knew that Courfeyrac was the king of PDA and that his promise might be perfectly sincere but it was a lost cause.

"You seem okay," Courfeyrac said, smiling hesitantly.

"I don't think I actually liked him," Eponine said, which was only half a lie. "I didn't know him all that well."

"He's perfect," Courfeyrac gushed before withering under Eponine's glare. "Uh, I mean for me. He's perfect for me. He's not perfect for you."

Eponine rolled her eyes. "Anyways, it's fine. I'm over it. I want something real, I think."

"Someone real," Courfeyrac suggested. "What about Bahorel? You like tattooed criminals, don't you?"

"Montparnasse doesn't have any tattoos," Eponine informed him. "And I wouldn't classify my type as criminals."

"Super hot people," Courfeyrac mused, "super hot people who are badass. Wait a minute-"

Eponine fidgeted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. He couldn’t possibly have guessed about Cosette, could he?

"Combeferre!" Courfeyrac said. "I could totally see it. You're both scary and beautiful and smart. I ship it!"

"Get the fuck out of my house," Eponine said, rolling her eyes to hide her relief, pushing Courfeyrac towards the door.

"Wait, we need glitter! We need a plan!"

Eponine shut the door on his face.

"I am not dating Eponine," Combeferre said when Courfeyrac called him. He was laughing, the bastard.

"Why not? She's beautiful and smart and terrifying."

"Yes to all those things," Combeferre agreed. "But she's not emotionally available. Also, I'm gay."

"Only mostly," Courfeyrac said, waving a hand in the air. "And she's over Marius. She said so."

Combeferre snorted. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Do you think she’s lying?”

“No,” Combeferre said.

“You’re hiding something from me,” Courfeyrac said, whining. “Just tell me.”

“It’ll be funnier if you figure it out yourself.”

“Ugh,” Courfeyrac groaned and hung up.

When Coufeyrac and Marius walked into the next Amis meeting there was a smattering of applause and catcalls. The only people who thought to look at Eponine were Grantaire and Cosette. Eponine ignored them both and joined in the racket.

It was a good few minutes before Enjolras was able to break through the noise and establish order. He launched into a discussion of their world hunger campaign, which was Eponine's cue to pull out her phone.

you good?

At first glance Eponine assumed that the text was from Grantaire and she had already begun drafting a scathing response when she realized that it had actually been from Cosette.

She looked up and Cosette was looking at her. Her gaze was steady and considering instead of pitying.

fine, Eponine texted back.

Then she texted Grantaire.

So I may not be the token straight amis anymore. Can we talk after the meeting?

Grantaire looked down at his phone and then actually gave a whoop, punching the air.

Everyone turned to look at him and Enjolras looked somewhat like an avenging angel.

"Sorry, sorry," Grantaire said unconvincingly, grinning from ear to ear at Eponine. "I just found out that I was right about something."

To Eponine's mild horror, Enjolras eyes flickered between her and Cosette. She narrowed her eyes at him. He was supposed to be the emotionally oblivious one.

He cleared his throat. "Well, if you wouldn't mind keeping your enthusiasm silent, we'll go back to our more important discussion of-"

"What fonts we were planning on using for the fliers," Feuilly said, helpfully.

Enjolras took a very long, very deep breath and then continued.

"What was that about?" Courfeyrac asked Enjolras after the meeting had been disbanded.

He would've cornered Grantaire or even Eponine but they had slipped off together before he'd been able to catch them.

"Weren't you paying any attention?" Enjolras said irritably. "Go bother Feuilly for the meeting notes."

"He means about Grantaire," Combeferre said, patiently.

"Oh," Enjolras looked a little shifty, which would have been entertaining if it had been directed at someone other than Courfeyrac, his dearly beloved friend from whom he should conceal nothing.

He told Enjolras as much.

Enjolras did not look properly repentant.

“Ask Grantaire,” he said, walking out of the classroom.

“He left and he never answers his phone,” Courfeyrac complained, trailing after him.

“I don’t know exactly what was happening,” Enjolras said, looking at Combeferre, who shrugged. “Well, Grantaire thinks that Eponine and Cosette are-“

“Since when you do talk to Grantaire?” Courfeyrac said before the rest of the sentence hit him. “Are what? What do you mean?”

“Maybe if you let me finish-“ Enjolras said irritably.

“In love,” Combeferre said, cutting Enjolras off cheerfully. “I refer to Cosette and Eponine, of course, not Grantaire and Enjolras.” He looked sly.

Any other time, Courfeyrac would have latched on to the way that Enjolras went red at that statement but he was too busy processing the idea of Cosette and Eponine to notice.

“They would be so cute together,” Coufeyrac exclaimed. “I have to tell Marius, oh my god.”

He whipped out his phone and sent Marius a message, complete with three heart emojis and one dragon, just to keep Marius on his toes.

Marius sent back that’s nice and a smiley face. Courfeyrac sent back another string of hearts because Marius was adorable.

“I wouldn’t interfere,” Combeferre said, gently. “It’s clearly a delicate situation.”

“I would never! Well, I won’t. This time.”

Enjolras snorted and Combeferre looked skeptical.

Courfeyrac was determined that he would prove them all wrong.

“So I think we should get Eponine and Cosette together,” Courfeyrac said, lying on top of Marius. They had been studying before Courfeyrac had convinced him that making out was more fun.

“Can we not talk about other people when we’re together, um, like this?” Marius asked. “Not that Eponine and Cosette aren’t-“

“Hot like burning,” Courfeyrac suggested.

Marius ears went red so Courfeyrac had to kiss him some more.

“Hold up,” Coufeyrac said, when Marius’ hands slipped under his shirt.

“Sorry,” Marius said, trying to pull away.

“No, no,” Courfeyrac assured him. “I just really do want to talk about Eponine and Cosette for a second and then we can get back to business.”

Courfeyrac wiggled his eyebrows.

Marius laughed and pinched Courfeyrac lightly in his side.

“I think they can figure it out for themselves.”

“Maybe,” Courfeyrac said, doubtfully. “But I feel like I owe Eponine.

“Why?” Marius asked, brushing Courfeyrac’s curls off his forehead.

He didn’t want to hide anything from Marius so Courfeyrac took a deep breath and explained about the Plan.

Marius clutched Courfeyrac a little tighter when Courfeyrac admitted that he had liked Cosette and when he finished telling the story Marius was worryingly silent. Courfeyrac made himself keep quiet but he couldn’t help kissing Marius’ neck.

“You know, I’m glad,” Marius said, finally. “I don’t think that you would have talked to me if you hadn’t had a reason. Also, I knew you didn’t actually like tennis. We can stop the lessons.”

“Not now!” Courfeyrac exclaimed, rising onto his elbows. “I’m starting to get good!”

Marius laughed but still looked a little troubled.

Courfeyrac kissed his temple and then the top of his cheek. “I really do like you. You’re absolutely wonderful and I’m sorry that it took me being stupid to see it.”

Marius smiled, and then looked a little startled. “Did Eponine really like me?”

Courfeyrac eyed him suspiciously. “She did,” he said carefully.

Marius looked thoughtful. It was Courfeyrac’s turn to hold Marius a little tighter.

“She’s really scary,” Marius said. “Maybe more scary than Enjolras.”

Courfeyrac laughed and laughed.

Cosette picked up Eponine from her shift at the hotel for another sleepover.

Eponine wasn’t sure if she felt comfortable sleeping in the same bed as Cosette now that her feelings for her were less than platonic. She had never thought about girls before but now that she had started, it was like a persistent refrain in the back of her head: Cosette’s hands, the arch of her neck, the way her legs looked in a miniskirt. The things that had made her envious towards Cosette now produced very different feelings.

Eponine didn’t know how to get out of sleepover without saying any of this, so she reluctantly agreed.

Cosette leaned over to open the door for her. “How was work?”

“Fine,” Eponine said. “They offered me some more shifts, which means I might be able to quit the movie theater once and for all.”

“It’s a miracle to me that you manage to sleep,”

“Yeah, what with you dragging me out of my bed to paint nails and talk about boys,” Eponine said, with a sly look towards Cosette.

Cosette tossed her head. “As though you don’t love it.”

“I do,” Eponine said, a little softer than she had meant to.

It was worth showing her hand a little for the way that Cosette looked over at her, a quick flash of teeth and very bright eyes.

“I’m picking the movie, though,” Cosette said, the smile still lingering in her voice. “And you are not allowed to complain. Also, it’s family dinner. Dad’s cooking.”

Javert wasn’t at Cosette’s house this time, which made the whole experience less terrifying. She was sure that Javert had mentioned her family to Jean Valjean but nothing about the way that he treated her showed it. It figured, Eponine thought, if he was an ex-con himself.

“We’re going to watch a movie,” Cosette informed her father. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Thanks,” Eponine echoed, trying not to blush incriminatingly when Cosette grabbed her hand to take her to her room.

It was easier than Eponine had hoped to pretend that nothing was different from last time when they piled onto Cosette’s bed.

They talked about Eponine’s jobs, Cosette’s burgeoning interest in photography. They talked about the weather, about the Amis, about clothes, about movies, about anything that came to mind. They talked about Cosette’s mother and Eponine’s mother.

She’s my best friend, Eponine thought, almost dazed, watching Cosette tie her hair into a braid. She’s my best friend and I’m going to fuck it all up.

She could hear Grantaire’s voice in her head. This is why we can’t have nice things.

“You look a little-” Cosette made a face.

“Well I hope I don’t look like that,” Eponine said.

Cosette laughed and threw a pillow at her.

“You know what I mean,” she said. “You look like something’s making you sad. Is it Marius?”

“Hadn’t thought about him,” Eponine answered truthfully.

“I’m glad,” Cosette said, taking Eponine’s hand. “He’s nice and all but he’s nothing compared to you.”

Eponine looked away so that Cosette couldn’t see whatever expression Eponine’s face was making just then.

“What movie did you have in mind?” Eponine asked, feeling like a coward.

“Something romantic,” Cosette said, not letting go of Eponine’s hand. “If you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” Eponine said. “That’d be fine.”

They continued to hold hands through most of the movie, which Eponine tried not to make too much of. Girls just held hands, right? It didn’t make this a date. She wished she had some frame of reference other than what she had seen on TV.

Eponine fell asleep half way through the movie, her exhaustion overcoming her pounding heart. She woke up when the credits began to roll and found that she had fell over on to Cosette. Cosette had wrapped an arm around her shoulders and their legs were overlapping.

Eponine had always felt braver in the dark. She took a deep breath and exhaled.

“I would write poetry for you,” she said.

She felt more than heard Cosette’s breath catch.

“I have written poetry for you,” Cosette said, quietly. “But it wasn’t any good.”

Eponine smiled into her collarbone and then looked up at Cosette. Cosette’s face was closer than she had imagined.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?” Cosette asked, very serious.

Eponine had to stop herself from smiling so that she could lean up and kiss Cosette. It was no different than kissing a boy, really (Monty had always used a lot of chapstick), but it was different because it was Cosette.

“So,” Eponine said, after a moment, “is this normal for sleepovers or-?”

Cosette had to pull the covers over her head to muffle the sound of her laughter.

Shushing her but laughing as well. Eponine joined her under covers. It was like another world there, dark, quiet, and warm with their shared body heat.

“Listen,” Eponine said, trailing a finger down Cosette’s arm. “If we’re going to, do this, or whatever-“

“This being dating,” Cosette clarified, still giggling a little.

Eponine bit her lip and smiled. “Yes, that. If we’re going to date, I need to tell you about the Plan.”

“Oh, I know all about that,” Cosette said, smiling so wide that her eyes crinkled.

Eponine’s eyebrows raised and then furrowed. “Grantaire,” she said darkly.

“Yep,” Cosette said. “I posed as Venus and he spilled all your secrets.”

“Naked?”

“Jealous?”

“Only if I don’t get to see the drawing,” Eponine admitted, glad they were still in the dark.

“You’ll get to see the real thing,” Cosette said, looking away from Eponine. “If you want. Someday.”

It was suddenly a little difficult for Eponine to breathe. “Definitely, someday.”

Cosette’s smile was radiant and more than a little devious.

This, Eponine thought with something like wonder, is going to be fun.

When Cosette and Eponine showed up to the next Amis meeting, they weren’t holding hands. However, Eponine had an enormous hickey on her neck and Cosette looked awfully smug.

“Oh my god,” Courfeyrac hissed at Eponine. “I’m so proud of you. You did it! All on your own!

“Ahem,” Cosette said, pointedly.

“Well, without outside intervention, anyways.”

“Just because you have to have a team to get yourself a date,” Eponine said, but she was smiling like she couldn’t help it.

Courfeyrac squealed a little. Marius looked concerned. Enjolras looked enraged.

“Can we start the meeting now?”

“One second,” Courfeyrac said, flapping a hand at him, before turning back to Eponine.

“We have to double date.”

“No,” Eponine said flatly but Cosette looked thoughtful.

“Roller blading,” Courfeyrac suggested, “or bowling or maybe just ice cream.”

He turned to Marius. “We could share a milkshake with two straws, just like in the movies.”

“What is this, the ninety fifties?” Eponine demanded.

“I think it’s a sweet idea,” Cosette said, smiling.

“Can we get back to world hunger?” Enjolras demanded, looking about five seconds away from knocking heads together.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep your hair on,” Eponine said. “We’ll talk about the milkshakes later.”

Courfeyrac and Cosette beamed at her.