A/N: I couldn't decide whether to make this a crossover or not, but since there are not direct mentions of Company, I decided against. Let me know if it bugs you and I will adjust accordingly. Short, drabble-esque vignettes about Enjolras's relationships with his friends; Company style. Enjolras is obviously Robert in this fiction. AU where the barricade and the uprising of 1832 did not occur. R&R and also read my other stories!

Café Musain was filled with a plethora of classes: a melting pot of status. Grantaire, his lady, and his absinthe occupied a small corner in the back, away from the judgmental eyes of his friends, who all gathered in the center. They surrounded one specific table, obviously hiding something, as a bodily mass. Just as everyone became situated, the guest of honor entered.

"Surprise!" They all cried out with joy, leaping to go shake the now 25 year old Enjolras.

"I'd like to thank you for including me in your thoughts, your lives, but I should really go." Enjolras was in no mood for a party. He never liked birthdays. To him, they only represented how long he had been striving for a more just society, and failing.

"H-hey Enj," Grantarie's slurred speech was a clear symbol that he was relatively sober. After only one drink his speech would slur, his thoughts were no longer cogent, and he showed other drunken signs, but after a superfluous amount of alcohol entered his system, he was alright. "Are you ready for the party on Friday?"

Enjolras was most definitely not the life of the party, but he was still offended that no one had invited him, considering at the very least that Friday was his birthday. "What party?"

"Oh you know," the drunkard replied with a cheeky grin, "your surprise party! It's gonna be a hell of a time,"

No one knew why he didn't want to be present at his own party, but everyone accepted it. Enjolras left the café and went outside. Walking down the block, he saw her. Eponine Thenardier: the only girl who could, on fear alone, cause men to scatter and take cover. Tonight, however, she looked helpless. Tears streaked across her face, simultaneously clearing away the grime. She was not ugly, per se, but she needed some help to be beautiful.

Down the street he could hear her talking, almost whispering to herself. She was not mad, but she did enjoy having a companion since Marius had no interest to do so.

"It's just a city of strangers," she sighed sorrowfully, before Enjolras ran to catch up to her.

"The cold streets are no place for any woman at night," he said coldly in his futile attempt to be chivalrous. Enjolras was not quite experienced enough with courting women to know what to do.

"I ain't no woman, I is a monster I is," she replied cynically.

"You are most definitely not a monster mademoiselle. Please," at this he bowed, "allow me to escort you home."

"I ain't goin' home Monsieur. I got no home," she stated, a little too matter-of-fact-ly for his liking.

"Then please come back to my flat," she opened her mouth to protest, but was blocked by Enjolras's finger, "I insist.

"Okay, but my father won't be too happy about this." Her warning was frightening. Enjolras was enticed to leave her right there. He wondered how Eponine could live so calmly through the fear.

"We need not worry about him," he replied. For the first time that night, Enjolras felt in control. His suave response empowered him to do the unthinkable; he wrapped his arm around Eponine as they walked off into the abyss of Paris at night.