Author's note: Cosette and Marius and all the rest don't belong to me, for I did not make them up. Thank Victor Hugo for that one. But the story is all mine (and I don't think Victor would want it). This is not meant to be serious. This is meant to be fun. I hope it is...

She had learned a lot from Thénardier. He never thought she listened, for he hardly ever thought of her at all until the stranger came and took her away. But she had sat in the corners and, hidden by shadows, had learned about lying and treachery and greed. And she took it all to heart.

When Valjean took her away, she did not let on all she knew. Those who met her saw nothing but a sweet and innocent child. She realized that if she acted slightly stupid, people would talk more around her, assuming she would not understand. She learned a lot in those years.

While in the convent, she was taught a small amount of medicine by one of the nuns. More importantly, she was taught which solutions not to mix together, lest she create a poison. She found medicines boring, but poison was fascinating.

She always clearly remembered the day she first noticed Marius. It was the day after she fell in love. His name was Montparnasse, and he was beautiful and dangerous. An angel with a demon's skills. Cosette had slipped into her garden one night, unable to sleep, and saw him attack a young man in the street. She had spoken to him that night; they talked of daggers and poisons and love. She kissed him through the gate, and she was happy.

The next day she noticed Marius, handsome but uninteresting. She saw the longing in his eyes and thought she would have a little fun with him. She would lead him on for awhile, then drop him. It would be amusing.

But Marius would not be dropped. No matter how strongly she hinted that their affair was through, he still came running back. No matter where she tried to hide, he always found her.

"I could always kill him for you," Montparnasse told her one night. He had waited until Marius had gone home before clambering into the garden himself.

Cosette sat on his lap, nibbling on his ear. "Mmm," she sighed, sitting up. "You know how I feel about your daggers. Too messy, and much too easy. Besides, tomorrow I'm going to stop hinting and just tell him exactly how I feel. Even he can't be that dense." She turned her attention to Montparnasse's neck.

But Marius was that dense. Cosette told him that she hated him, that she never wanted to see her again, that he made her sick.

"You're just saying that because you're scared your father will find us out. Don't worry, my angel!"

Cosette decided she needed to change her tactics. It seemed that death was the only way. She did have some standards. Marius was too dumb, too trusting. She did not, at that point, want to be the direct cause of his death. But perhaps she could send him to it. And the planning would be quite fun.

She visited the café where the revolutionary group Marius sometimes associated with met. She found their leader, Enjolras, there. After a bit of pointless small talk, she slipped a question in. "I'm a bit scared to get caught up in your fighting. What sort of event would set such a thing off?"

Enjolras had been confused by her meaningless prattle. Even Grantaire did not babble on about so many stupid things. He did not understand why she was there, and he wanted her to leave, so he answered her question without really thinking, or wondering how she knew of their revolution. "Anything really. The death of an important political figure. General Lamarque, for instance."

"General Lamarque," Cosette repeated. "Thank you. I think I understand."

Enjolras remembered nothing about her after she left, except that she had been a rather nice girl, somewhat innocent. Cosette was good at making people think of her what she wanted them to.

When Marius came by to see her later, he found a letter saying that she loved him dearly, but her father was forcing her to move to France. The house was conveniently empty, Valjean away for a day on business, and Cosette spending the night with Montparnasse.

General Lamarque's death came as a surprise to everyone but Cosette. It was thought that he had been poisoned, although this was not publicly announced.

The revolution started quickly, and, as Cosette had hoped, Marius went to it full of despair. She was sure he would not come out of it alive.

But he did, thanks to her blasted guardian. Valjean had gone after Marius after finding the blotting paper impression of the letter she had written Marius. It was a nice letter. Cosette had written it thinking that as long as she was sending Marius to his grave, she might as well give him a little happiness along the way. She was not completely heartless.

And Valjean had actually brought the little creep back to her. She had been introduced to his grandfather, who was ecstatic that Marius had found himself such a nice girl. She was in shock.

They were married, almost before Cosette realized what was happening. Marius was unexciting. His conversation bored her, and he never seemed to know what to do when they were alone. With Montparnasse, the fun never stopped, but with Marius it never started.

Then Valjean died, leaving them a large amount of money, which Cosette was thankful for. She played the part of loving daughter until the end. She figured that she owed him that much; Valjean, in his own way, had taught her something about deceit, albeit unknowingly. There was always a new name and a new story everywhere that they went.

So Cosette was rich, but Marius was still in the way of perfection. He needed to be disposed of so she could take the money and run away with Montparnasse. She would make no more elaborate plans, and she no longer cared if his blood was on her hands. She just wanted him gone.

She tried to poison him once, but he seemed immune to the formula. It was just her luck; the idiot just would not go away.

Maybe poison, fascinating as it was, was not the answer.

"Darling," Cosette purred, stroking Montparnasse's cheek during one of their stolen rendezvous.

"Yes, dear?"

Cosette smiled slowly and cruelly. "I think I would like to explore the use of the dagger."

Montparnasse laughed. "As a killing weapon?"

"What else?"

The future shone in Cosette's mind, and she knew that this time, nothing would go wrong.