So I may have actually read one of my bucket list books, Les Miserables, over my Christmas break. I may or may not have rekindled an obsession with the book/musical/movie. I definitely did decide that Henley would have a similar interest. And so this.

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It started in Paris, rather appropriately. We were on a weeklong op, staking out a place in shifts with two other agents. The times we weren't working we spent exploring the city.

I can say with complete certainty that there is nothing like touring a city with a trained spy who has traveled the world as an agent. You see a lot of things that no normal tour guide will ever show you.

Secret entrances to some of the most heavily guarded buildings in the world (no, I can't tell you what they are or where they are, otherwise I'd have to kill you), shady-looking bars where people meet, buy each other drinks, and surreptitiously exchange suitcases or flashdrives before disappearing into the night, incredible views of the city at night from rooftops, secret hideouts used by resistance fighters in World War II that are still safe houses for agents today.

On our second to last day we were crossing a street when I suddenly stopped and stood still in the middle of it, staring around me.

Hen, come on, you're gonna get hit by a car.

Clint, this is the spot.

What does that mean? Did someone tell you you're gonna die here? 'Cause those circus fortunetellers are a load of bull, trust me, I know how they do it. But it's gonna be a self-fulfilling prophecy if you don't get out of the road.

No, this isn't someplace I was told I was going to die. But it's someplace that reminds me of death, in a weird way. This is the street Victor Hugo wrote about in Les Miserables. The barricade street. I never thought I'd actually see it.

You stopped because of a book?

It was my absolute favorite book in college. Don't judge.

Clint doesn't seem to appreciate my obsession, but he does wait for me while I stand there in awe of the fact that I'm here. Where I used to wish I was, every time I read that book. Every time I wanted to march off to war with those enthusiastic boys who dreamed of changing the world. Even if I knew how it was going to end.

I guess I'm a sucker for long shots, last chances, and lost causes, because isn't that what I'm sort of doing now? Going off to fight for what I believe in and knowing that odds are for field agents a short and painful life.

I finally realize that my life will be very short if I don't heed Clint's advice and get out of the road fast, and so I follow him onto the sidewalk. He doesn't say another thing until we stop at a café a few blocks away. Of course we have to try the coffee in every country we visit. Clint swears Italian brews are the best, but I've discovered that I love the fancy kinds you can get in France. I'm usually not once for any additives to my coffee; black, hot, and strong enough to keep we awake are typically my criteria, but getting a really good sweet coffee here is nothing like the sludge espresso machines turn out back home.

So you found the place from a book, huh?

You have seriously have so little knowledge about Les Mis? I thought that was a physical impossibility in New York today. That story is really well-known now, with the musical and all.

Nope. It's not like we went around reading massive novels in the circus. And I'm not really into going to musical theatre, you know.

It seems like such a shame. We live in New York, so close to Broadway, and yet for Clint, plays and musicals are such a difficult thing to enjoy. I'd always dreamed of hearing Les Mis performed, but never lived where I could see it. And now, I'd hate to go without Clint. I want him to understand why I love this story so much, and I just cannot explain it in person.

I understand that.

So you read the book in college?

Yes. And then became obsessed with it. I may have had a rather amusing obsession with some of the characters, too. I grin, remembering conversations with my very much annoyed roommate. Enjolras and Marius were my favorites. Enjolras was awesome and kind of obsessive and passionate, and then Marius was socially awkward and always saying the wrong thing and reminded me of me. But really, I wanted to be friends with all the rebels, they were like this massive dysfunctional family and it seemed like so much fun. Kind of like the apartment building folks, I guess.

How so?

I'm kind of shocked Clint is asking me to tell him more about a book. That's incredibly unlike him; usually anything pertaining to literature makes him change the subject, which has always been a tough point because I love to read and then talk about what I've read. We spend at least an hour there, me trying to explain the extremely complicated plot and somehow convey to Clint my extreme love for all these unique and amazing characters.

When we leave, we take up our spotter posts again, and there's no more conversation about the topic. I've nearly forgotten about it altogether when we fly home, even though I went back to the spot and found several others from the book with the help of Google and took pictures.

That's why I'm incredibly shocked when, several weeks later, Clint shows up at my door in his good suit and a tie, looking way too put together for a typical Sunday night.

Hey Hen, want to go out tonight? I can tell he's got some surprise up his sleeve, with that cat-ate-the-canary grin.

I'd love to. But I guess I should change.

I swap my oversize sweater and jeans for a long navy-blue dress and black shoes with a bit of a heel. I don't do much to my hair, but it's actually looking presentable today, for a change. We take Clint's car to the theatre district, and stop outside a small theater that has seen better days, but has a small crowd outside.

I'm rather shocked to see most of the people waiting signing at each other.

Clint, what is going on?

A Deaf theatre company is in town touring. I found out and thought you might enjoy it.

I look up at the board advertising the show, and then stare at him wide-eyed. It's Les Mis.

How…how did you find this?

Actually, it was Nat. I was telling her about you loving that show, but that I can't follow musicals, and she suggested looking for this. It was just dumb luck they were here this year.

Oh my god, I cannot believe it. This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me, no lie!

The theater is packed, but Clint has managed to get us really good seats, and I'm literally shaking with anticipation by the time the show begins. I may never have seen the show before, but I had the whole soundtrack on my iPod and I used to listen to it when I ran.

The show is breathtaking. Without a word, I'm still mesmerized, and I can hear the music in my mind as I watch.

But the full power of the show really hits me when "Do You Hear The People Sing" begins. There is something that is just so right about seeing all these people using their own "voices", something amazing about seeing that song. The real, raw emotion that comes from a people who literally were not heard. People who had been squashed and seen as less because the could not hear. People who were finally finding their voices and standing up. The song suddenly transcends 1832 France. It is a song for everyone, every people who have ever been oppressed, misunderstood, and ignored.

I sit there with tears streaming down my face, knowing that even though many of the seemingly most emotional parts of the story are yet to come, this is the single most vivid memory I will carry away from tonight. I have seen the people sign. And it is beautiful.

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I have loved Les Mis for years, but hadn't really thought about it recently, and now that I'm so interested in ASL I just had to look and see if there are performances in sign language. I found a lot of ones that are interpreted in sign language but done for hearing audiences, so I took some liberties in creating the all-ASL one that Henley and Clint attend, or at least I think I did. If anyone knows more about Deaf Theatre, I'd really appreciate you telling me if there are any glaring errors or anything, since I'm having the hardest time finding the information I'm looking for. However, I am including the link to the Google map Henley used to find the sites she photographed in Paris. This has so far been one of my favorite of these oneshots to write, hope you enjoyed it too!

Google map of Paris sites maps/d/u/0/viewer?mid=1jtr0eeR6t7ycYOG1aSEeksyAyro&hl=en_US&ll=48.85268751503326%2C2.342213000000015&z=13