Watching over the captured inspector wasn't a very hard job. Enjolras had little to fear, what with Javert being tied to a chair and all. It was boring, though, seeing as there was no one to talk to but said captive policeman.

"I thought you'd do a better job of disguising yourself, Monsieur Inspector," the revolutionary commented. "After all, isn't it your job to be able to catch us 'filthy rebels' without getting caught? Or are you out of practice because disguising yourself is below the high standard you keep? After, all, dishonesty is so far-removed from your intolerance and –"

"I will not tolerate this!" Javert fumed pointlessly. "I will not!"

"There you go, you're intolerant," said Enjolras. "Now –"

"'Scuse me, Monsieur Enjolras?"

Enjolras looked down to see Gavroche, the little boy who had exposed Inspector Javert's disguise in the first place. "Yes, Gavroche?"

"What are we havin' for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Breakfast?" Was Gavroche really bothering him with such a question? "I don't know…"

"Well, I was thinkin' that, if you don't have anything else, we could eat the inspector."

It was slightly hard for both Enjolras and Javert to not burst out with their immediate reactions. Keep calm and deal with this bizarre suggestion appropriately, they both told themselves. But no. They burst out with their immediate reactions.

"WHAT!"

Gavroche smiled innocently as he stood closer to the chair Javert was tied to. "Well, I was just curious what he tastes like. Ever wondered that, Enjolras? What he tastes like?"

"No. I do not spend my time wondering what people taste like."

"Oh, I don't mean people. I mean inspectors."

"Inspectors are people!" Javert interjected. "Albeit highly responsible, important people who –"

"Inspectors specifically," Gavroche clarified. "Out of all the people in the world, inspectors specifically. Do you think they taste salty? I think they taste salty. Saltier than normal people, anyway."

Enjolras shook his head. "Gavroche…"

"Inspectors ain't normal. They prob'ly don't taste like normal people."

"I don't much like what you're insinuating right now," said Javert, giving no indication as to the specific insinuation.

Gavroche went on. "Normal people…they taste alright, probably. But I don't think people like this fellow'd taste normal at all."

"Gavroche, I don't want to know why you think about these things," Enjolras said.

"Normal people are a little tangy, I think, and sometimes kinda sweet. Sometimes kinda salty. But inspectors – oh, they're really salty!"

"Do I want to know why you know these things?" Enjolras asked, more to himself than the child.

Gavroche started pacing around Javert. "This one…I don't know. You think he tastes a little different than other inspectors? 'Cause different people have different tastes…"

"Child, I demand you stop this line of thought immediately!" Javert ordered, regardless that Gavroche wouldn't listen.

"He's bitter," the boy suggested, still circling the inspector. "He probably tastes bitter. Really bitter, more than normal people. More than normal inspectors!"

Enjolras made no motion but watched the child with disapproving eyes. "Gavroche…"

"Yeah, this one's bitter. A little more salty, too, d'you think? Or maybe less salty. Maybe less."

"I object!" Javert said. "I object to everything that's going on right now! It's all completely objectionable!"

Gavroche's face lit up. "You know what? We should have him with eggs!"

"Eggs?" Enjolras shoted.

"Eggs!" Javert objected.

"Eggs!" Gavroche cheered. "Eggs and…some kind of meat, I think. What meat d'you think we should –"

"Gavroche, no," said Enjolras.

"– ham, maybe, that sounds good –"

"I am the law! The law is not eaten!" Javert put in.

Gavroche looked down contemplatively as he paced. "– or, or, do we have any chicken? Because he might –"

"Gavroche! Why are we still talking about this?" Enjolras said.

"– mmm, that'd taste really good. Who knew that inspectors could –"

"Listen to the man! I don't want to be eaten!" Javert raged.

There was a pause. Gavroche stopped pacing. Enjolras blinked a few times. "Did you – did you just – did you just tell someone to listen to me?"

"Well, if it gets him to shut up about eating me, then…yes," Javert said, lamely and rather embarrassed. He was not used to having cannibalistic suggestions directed at him.

Enjolras smiled. He smiled widely. He smiled enthusiastically. He smiled ecstatically. It almost frightened Gavroche because he didn't know such things could come from Enjolras, and it did frighten Javert because he didn't know such things could come from people.

"I'm right!" the revolutionary leader cheered. "I'm right! I'm right! You, my fine inspector, just admitted that I'm right!"

"I – I did no such thing!" Javert stammered.

"Yes, you did! You told Gavroche to listen to me. That means I ought to be listened to, meaning I'm right! I never realized that you, oh high-and-mighty 'I-am-the-law', could admit that I'm right!"

"Only if it makes him stop this nonsense about having me for breakfast," the flustered detective said.

"Still…I'm right."

"But – but this means we can't eat the inspector, then?" Gavroche said sadly.

"No. No, we can't."

"But I want to taste inspectors!" Gavroche whined.

"No. There will be no inspector-tasting. At all. Do you have anything constructive and non-disturbing to say? Or did you just want to ask if we can eat the inspector?"

Gavroche hung his head ashamedly. "No."

"Then go."

The boy heaved a despairing sigh. "Alright."

As Gavroche left, it was very hard for him to contain his giggles and gleeful laughter. Discovering the taste of inspectors would have been the experience of a lifetime. However, feigning desire to eat the one they had with them – and, in so doing, getting such a reaction from Enjolras and Javert – came in as a very close second.