In Bad Company (Tag: Eponine)

[EPONINE THENARDIER]

Eponine flinched slightly when Montparnasse made his childish threat. She had taken a risk striking him, knowing full well he could and likely would strike back. She'd gotten her share of busted lips and bruised wrists from him, enough to know that while his threat might have sounded like a joke to anyone else, he was deadly serious. She counted herself lucky that he hadn't chosen to return the blow tonight, even though she knew she would just come back swinging. She wasn't in the mood for a fight tonight. After everything that had happened at the parade, she just wanted to feel like she belonged, just for a little while. So she grinned at 'Parnasse when he put his hat on her head and tilted it at an angle. She ran a finger along the rim, smirking over her shoulder at him. "Careful. I might not give it back."

"What do you say to the Latin Quarter? Maybe the market? Any revelers still out would be heading for the cafes and taverns." Still gripping his hand, Eponine turned towards the Latin Quarter. The Amis were holding their meeting at their new headquarters so there was no danger of running into them there, and Eponine had told Mylene to rest, staying off her ankle to let it heal. So it seemed that the two of them would have their pick of drunken students with more money than sense in the streets tonight. And the bait and switch was a time-tested method to getting at that money. The idea was simple. Eponine stood at the mouth of an alleyway, posing as one of the whores plying her trade. She'd lure an unsuspecting mark into the darkness with the promise of company and a good time. And when they were adequately... distracted, 'Parnasse would make his move. Sometimes he'd play the jealous lover, yanking the man away and pinning him to the wall, letting the man offer him money to just let him go. Sometimes he'd knock them out with a blow to the head. Sometimes he'd simply threaten them with a garotte or knife. But the end result was always the same. Before the man had so much as made a move to lift her skirts, she and 'Parnasse would have his money and be on their way to the next mark.

They'd been pulling it for years, and much as she hated to admit it, Eponine enjoyed the excitement, the way her pulse raced when she was on the job with 'Parnasse. She liked the idea that her charms held a sway over some men, even if it was only for the promise of a few moments of pleasure. The idea that their marks truly believed someone who looked like 'Parnasse had a claim over her enough to be jealous thrilled Eponine. The look of fear and regret in their eyes as they apologized, handing over their money to 'Parnasse, who would always have his arm securely around her shoulders... The whole scene made Eponine feel like she was beautiful, desirable, something worth fighting over. It was intoxicating, addicting. And it held her firmly in its clutches tonight. She didn't even try to fight it anymore, just simply gave in, letting it take hold and led her into the night with the assassin in tow. Tomorrow morning, she could go back to her alley, hating herself just a little more. But not tonight. Tonight she needed the way this made her feel. To numb the way Marius's loving gaze on Cosette tore at her, the way the woman's death weighed on her. Tonight, she needed her fix.

[MICHEL MONTPARNASSE]

Montparnasse returned the smirk. “Then I'll just have to get another.” It would be far from the first article of his clothing to end up in her hands; despite the poverty in which he had grown up, he had long had a taste for fine things. Whether stolen or purchased with stolen money, Montparnasse had more variety in his wardrobe—only rarely an actual, physical wardrobe—than most men of his status. There had been times, long ago, when she had gone home wearing his clothes—whether by necessity or choice. It could almost drive Michel to prayer, hoping her father wouldn't recognize where his daughter had gotten assorted articles of men's clothing or at least if he did notice, that he wouldn't care.

It had always seemed fairly unlikely that he would. It was easier to sneak around with Eponine now that she was out of her father's house, anyway.

“You look charming,” he added in a laughing tone. She would soak up his compliments, he thought, but there was more to it than simple manipulation. Sometimes, despite his better judgment, a bit of the boy he had been would slip through with her, incite him to playful jibes not backed up with blows. It made him almost cheerful, confident that he could take on the world if he had to. He would be a bold thief tonight with Eponine beside him.

The Latin Quarter... he liked that idea. Eponine was right; the students and similar that haunted the district tended to have money and the desire to spend it, and the bait and switch tactic would work well. Had always worked well. “Good. Latin Quarter it is.” He smirked again, took a small folding knife from his pocket and moved to slip it into her bodice. It would give them more options should they get into a tight spot. Then he grabbed her hand, gentler than he could have. He would let himself be led tonight, if she chose to lead the way.

And if the chance to rob her friends among the students presented itself, unlikely as he knew it was, he would be thrilled to take it. To flaunt in their faces not only his greater cunning, but his claim on Eponine herself.

[EPONINE THENARDIER]

Eponine grinned over her shoulder at Montparnasse, adjusting the hat on her head. It was a little large, having to sit at an angle to keep it from slipping down on her face. Still Parnasse's compliment made her grin even wider. For just a moment, she felt like she used to around him, when they were younger, playfully teasing each other and stealing moments with each other during her father's schemes. "I've always looked better in your clothes anyway, Parnasse." Her teasing was good-natured, but she knew that he had always prided himself on his appearance. A jab at his attire might hit a little closer to the mark than any other. Perhaps she just wanted to get him back some of his own after his comments about her friends.

As he slipped cold knife down the front of her bodice, next to the small pouch containing her ill-gotten coins, Eponine felt a shiver go through her. Whether from excitement or anxiety, she couldn't rightly say. The thought of pulling jobs with Parnasse again intrigued her, as it always seemed to. She knew where it would most likely lead as they went further into the night, but by the time the night reached it final destination, she would be too far into Parnasse's world, her world, to care. Her mood was lifting already as the memory of the parade faded into mist, followed quickly by the pain of seeing Marius and Cosette together again.

Eponine adjusted her hand in his, holding it tighter as she relished the feel of it. Laughing, she took off down the street, pulling him behind her. To the outside observer, they looked like a pair of lovers, enjoying each other's company for the evening. Perhaps even a dandy gentleman and his lovely lady. They hardly looked like anything to be feared. But before the night was over, plenty of drunk and unwary men would have emptier pockets and a grand headache for crossing the path of the two of them. And Eponine and Parnasse would surrender to the adrenaline and excitement of the evening. Without much of a care in the world, the pair slipped into the shadows of the Latin Quarter, perfectly at home and at ease.