A/N: Hello hello, my dears! I'm back again :) I'm trying something a little different this time, and it's going to require some research on New York City in 1931, so updates may not be as frequent as they were for One, Two, Tick, Tock, for those of you that read it. (If you have any fun facts or important things that you think I'll need to know about 1931 New York, please PM me!)

I've never done an AU like this before, so I hope you enjoy it! For my regular readers, you know the drill. For those of you who are new to my writing, this is the aforementioned drill - read, review, and most of all, enjoy!

He pulled open the door of the the small building that contained the Whitehorse Tavern, his favorite in New York City. Inside, there appeared to be only a small general store. He casually walked up to the counter and said to the associate, "The streets are quiet tonight."

"Back room," the man murmured.

He pulled open the door, and the familiar smells of alcohol and a slight bit of dust filled his nose. He breathed in deeply, smiling to himself. This was an old tavern, the second oldest in New York City, and he loved it. It was a classy place, not like a lot of the bars around town that were more like brothels. He'd been coming here with his father since he was old enough to drink, but tonight, he was on his own – just out of law school, trying to make a name for himself, and desperate for a drink.

"Ah, Richard!" Mac, the owner, greeted him at the door, a broad smile on his face. He was in his mid-fifties, with a large belly, a bald head, and always smiling. He'd been a family friend for as long as the younger Richard Enjolras had been alive, and was one of the few people who could get away with calling him Richard, besides his own father. "Good to see you again. Are you by yourself tonight?"

"For tonight, yes," the young man answered, shrugging off his overcoat. "I'm almost 30 years old, I think my father will understand if I want to have a drink on my own," he laughed.

Mac smiled. "I know you just graduated from law school, Richard, so this is my gift to you. Have as much as you want tonight, on the house," he said, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Mac, I can't possibly – "

"I insist!" the portly man laughed. "Go on, son; you know right where the bar is. And that reminds me, I have someone to introduce to you," he added as they approached the bar. "Éponine!"

Enjolras followed the man's gaze to the bar, where a pretty young woman was wiping out a glass. She looked to be about his age, or a little younger, with bright eyes and a pretty smile. Her dark hair was tied back into a bun, and she wore a black apron over her dress. "Yes, sir?"

"This young gentleman is a good friend of ours," Mac grinned, clapping him on the back again. "He just graduated from law school, so anything he drinks is on us tonight!"

Enjolras looked down, grinning and shaking his head as Mac walked away. "Don't listen to him; I'll pay," he insisted in a low voice as soon as the man was out of earshot.

The girl chuckled, tucking back a strand of hair that had fallen loose from her bun. "Well, I don't think it'd be wise for me to disobey my new boss on my first night," she murmured back, still grinning.

He grinned back. "I didn't think I'd seen your face around here before; I've been coming here for years. Richard Enjolras," he said, extending a hand. "Call me Enjolras."

"Éponine Jondrette," she said, shaking it with a charming smile. "Call me Éponine," she added with a laugh.

He grinned. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Jondrette."

"Pleasure's all mine," she laughed. "Can I get you anything?"

He pondered for a moment. "Ahh…bourbon," he decided, unable to wipe that stupid smile off his face every time he looked at her.

"Coming right up," she grinned back, setting down the freshly-cleaned highball class. "You know…you're the first customer I've actually been able to talk to," she said, carefully pouring in the bourbon and setting the glass down in front of him. "The others that have come in tonight have just been so…stoic."

He swirled the drink a little. "Not your type either?" he asked, taking a small sip.

"Not particularly," she said with a small chuckle. "That's the thing about working as a bartender – you kinda turn into an unlicensed therapist by default."

He took another drink, holding the bourbon in his mouth for a split second before he swallowed. "I'm a lawyer; on some level, I understand your pain," he answered dryly. "Also, when did Mac get this bourbon? This stuff is fantastic."

"That would be courtesy of yours truly!" she grinned, taking a small bow. "My father had me mixing drinks at his bar once I was tall enough to see over the counter. That's his favorite kind. When Mac hired me, I decided to bring it over, give it a try."

His grin grew wider. "I knew I liked you, Éponine Jondrette," he laughed. "Your taste in bourbon is excellent."

"Well, thank you, Richard Enjolras," she laughed. "Be right with you, sir," she called to the gentleman who had just sat down at the bar, before leaning in close to him. "Important question…favorite whiskey?" she murmured.

"Jack Daniels, of course," he murmured back, taking a slower drink of his bourbon.

She grinned. "Good man. I'll be back," she said, before walking down the bar to take the other man's order.

Enjolras grinned to himself, swirling the liquor in his glass as he took another drink. "Éponine…" he murmured, almost tasting the name on his tongue. "Éponine Jondrette…"

"Richard!" he heard Mac's voice. "I see you and my new bartender have taken a liking to each other, eh?"

Enjolras chuckled. "She's a charming young woman, to be certain."

Mac chuckled again. "I know how you are with charming young women, Richard," he teased, slapping him on the back again. "You're starting to get a reputation as a bit of a heartbreaker around New York City."

"Oh, what's that supposed to mean?" Enjolras laughed.

Mac raised an eyebrow, still grinning. "You, a charming young woman, a bottle or two of wine…when that happens, people tend to think you only want to get the pretty ones in bed for a night and then leave them."

"That was years ago. I'm a changed man, Mac," he said almost immediately. "I'm almost 30; I know how to act like an adult. Especially around women."

The older man reached over the bar and poured himself a drink. "All the same…you have to be careful with the charming ones, no matter who you are," he said, taking a swig and walking away.

Enjolras hung around the bar and chatted with Éponine for several more hours. They cracked jokes together, good-naturedly squabbled about different kinds of alcohol, and giggled about Mac's silly mannerisms when he wasn't watching. Unless she was taking care of another customer's order, there was never a moment of lag in the conversation. Enjolras almost felt like he was flirting with her, but not in the way he used to flirt with women. He had no ulterior motives, no agenda, no design on her…they were just talking, and it was fine that way.

Éponine yawned as traffic started to slow down. "What time is it?"

Enjolras pulled out his pocket watch and clicked open the lid. "Half past eleven," he answered, putting it away. "When do you get off?"

"Midnight," she answered, suppressing another yawn.

He chuckled as he watched her try to shake it off. "Are you sure you're gonna make it that long? I can make some coffee back at my place and bring it over here for you, if you want."

She smiled gratefully. "You'd be my angel if you did, Enjolras."

The young lawyer grinned – he was suddenly thankful for the dark lighting that covered his blush – and pulled his car keys out of his pocket. "Give me about 10 minutes," he said, walking away from the bar.

"I'll be here!" she laughed.

It seemed like seconds before he returned to the bar, carefully carrying a small mug of liquid energy. "Here you are," he smiled as her hands wrapped around it. "Fair warning, I brew my coffee strong," he laughed.

Éponine sighed in relief as she took it from him, taking a small sip. Her long, thin fingers cradled the mug tightly, and smiled. "It's perfect. You really are a saint, Enjolras," she said.

"That's not something lawyers hear said about them a lot," he laughed, sitting back down in front of her. She grinned at him over her coffee as she took another drink, but didn't say anything. When she kept quietly staring at him, Enjolras finally remarked on it. "What?"

She set the mug down gently before answering. "It's just…odd to me, that we've known each other for a few hours and you offer to make me coffee when I'm clearly not going to stay awake until the end of my shift. I feel like…not a lot of people would be that generous to an almost-complete stranger," she murmured, looking away and taking another drink of the coffee as she awkwardly finished.

Enjolras hesitated a moment, before gently placing his big hand over her small, thin one on the bar. "It was nothing, Éponine," he said softly with a gentle smile. "I'm always happy to help, in any way I can."

A full smile spread out over her lips. "That means more to me than you know," she whispered. The clock behind them struck midnight right as she spoke. "Ah, finally! I get to go home and rest," she said, gently pulling her hand from his to put the liquor bottles away. Enjolras felt almost a slight tingle on his palm when the contact ended, and almost thought he felt a chill down his spine. However, he brushed it off and smiled as he watched her.

"Things can get dangerous in this part of town at this time of night," he remarked. "Want me to walk you home?"

She chuckled again. "You mean it, don't you?"

"Mean what?"

"That you'll help in any way you can," she said. "No one's ever promised me that before."

Enjolras smiled. "I absolutely mean it. Now come on, let's get you home." Éponine smiled back as she hung up her apron, putting on her coat and coming around the bar. He offered an arm, which she took, and they walked out the front door, waving to Mac as they left. "Now, which way are we going?"

"My apartment's on West 10th, so we're not actually going too far," she laughed, squeezing his arm a little tighter as they stepped out into the chilly night air.

He nodded. "Well, the sooner we get you home, the more time you have to sleep," he grinned. They chatted all the way to her apartment, going up the rickety metal stairs to her second-floor door. It was too brief, he thought, and he wished he didn't have to say goodbye to her so soon. Something about her personality captivated him, and the more time he spent with her, the closer he was to figuring it out.

"Thanks for walking me home, Enjolras," she said a little shyly, jerking him out of his reverie.

"My pleasure," he said, smiling. "Hey, Éponine…" he started to say, suddenly not in control of his mouth. "Would you…like to have dinner with me sometime this week? I'd ask if you want a drink, but my guess would be you're probably kinda sick of the bar scene."

She chuckled nervously, biting her lip and looking down at her shoes. Afraid he'd crossed a line, Enjolras quickly started to backtrack. "If you don't want to…"

"No, no, I do," she said quickly. "It's…just…"

He paused. "What is it?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I'd love to," she smiled.

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief, smiling back. "Does Friday night work for you? I can pick you up around 5:30."

"Sounds perfect," she grinned. "I'll see you then," she said, opening the door. "Goodnight, Enjolras."

"Goodnight, Éponine."

Her smile was gone as soon as she closed the door. She leaned against it, sighing heavily as she listened to his retreating footsteps, his whistling slowly fading out as he walked away. Slowly, she let herself sink to the floor, holding her knees to her chest and trying not to cry as she started to rock back and forth. There was so much he didn't know…so much she felt obligated to tell him…

But the truth would break his heart…

What makes you think his heart would break, Éponine? He could be just like the rest, pretending to give a damn about you so he can throw you by the wayside later. What makes this fancy lawyer any different? You'd just be a toy, a pretty thing on his arm for a little while, and then he'll be gone.

She shook her head to clear it, standing up and going to the back of her small apartment. She refused to think about it. Not now. Éponine hung her overcoat in the bedroom closet with the other coats, trying to think about something other than Richard Enjolras…but when she stopped and thought about it, he was the most memorable part of her first night on the job. He stuck around all night, even when he wasn't drinking, just to talk to her. He seemed so…genuine, someone she could actually get to know. Maybe he was different after all…

We'll see on Friday night at 5:30, I suppose.

A/N: So what do you think Enjolras is going to do? And what might Éponine have to hide? Please review, and PM me for the answers to the questions! No spoilers ;)