A Les Miserables fan fiction

~Inspired by the 2012 musical movie starring Hugh Jackman as Jean Valjean and Russell Crowe as Inspector Javert

No idea where this came from, its far from complete, but I wanted to post and share it to see what people think. It should be noted I don't write slash and that this is a strictly platonic fic despite the spanking. Its more father/son or mentor and apprentice or big brother/little brother if ya like.

There are pieces missing from what is below and I would not mind having help filling them in. :) I was admittedly more interested in writing the spanking scenes than what led to them.

Discipline

Javert kept his head down as the mayor approached him. His shame would not allow him to look up at the man he had wrongfully denounced. He deserved to be punished. The mayor would see to it.

"Inspector Javert, you have only done your duty. Nothing more. Return to your post."

Javert started, shocked at the mayor's words. He lifted his chin, peering into the older man's face. "Monsieur Mayor—"

"Return to your post, Inspector and think on it no more."

"But Monsieur Mayor I have wronged you, I have spied on you! I must be punished for my crime. Justice demands it."

Mayor Madeleine was silent, expression deeply thoughtful. At length he said, "I will not punish you for doing your job, inspector. You came to me of your own will to confess your mistake. Few men would have done so. I see no reason to relieve you of your post."

Confusion and anger welled in Javert. Why did the mayor wish to humiliate him this way? The law demanded justice. He said as much to the mayor. Mayor Madeleine looked at him with sad eyes.

"Your crime was doing your duty. Why would I punish you for that?"

"I overstepped my bounds, monsieur."

"But what if I was this Jean Valjean? Would you have overstepped your bounds then, Inspector?"

"If you were Jean Valjean I would have arrested you in the line of duty."

"That does not answer my question. Did you overstep your bounds according to the law or not? It must be one way or the other, surely not both."

Javert was at a loss to answer the mayor's question. He looked down at his boots, feeling even more foolish for his denouncement of this man. Fool! He had let his anger best him and this was the price.

"I-I cannot say monsieur."

"Perhaps the best way would be to say you were doing your duty to ensure justice was upheld."

Javert shook his head, arguing. "It does not matter. I committed a crime, Monsieur Mayor and I must be punished!"

Madeleine turned sharply. "Your crime was against me and I may do as I please with it."

It was a direct echo of Mayor Madeleine's words when the whore Fantine spit on him. The mayor had forgiven the wretch, taking justice into his own hands instead of letting Javert fulfill it according to the law. The reminder only angered him as he recalled how Madeleine had humiliated him by sending him away. But he could no more stop the mayor now than he could then. Mayor Madeleine was far too charitable, too merciful on the underserving.

He glared at the floor.

"Return to your post, Inspector."

This time, he obeyed.

A week later, Javert was on patrol in the rougher side of town when several brawling men poured out into the street from a tavern. He quickly sent his young partner, Moreau to retrieve back up. But as the brawl intensified, Javert deemed that waiting to interfere would only further disrupt the peace and result in more trouble. So he interfered. He came away from the incident with a split lip. Two days later, this time while arresting a group of smugglers, he ended up fighting two of the smugglers as they tried to escape. His split lip was reopened, his face bruised, and his arm cut by a knife.

His reputation in the town became more terrifying. He was a cudgel for justice.

Such was the situation until nearly three weeks after Javert confessed his denouncement of Mayor Madeleine. It was on this day that things came to a head. Javert had been growing increasingly reckless, his obvious anger enticing wrongdoers to run or fight him. On this occasion there were some men passing through on their way to Paris, seeking better work to provide for their families. Not all men were with such honor and a fight broke out. Javert was the first on scene and found himself in an all-out brawl with a large, furious man who clearly bore the marks of prison. His fellow officers could not break through the crowd of spectators that gathered around to witness the fight.

It was Mayor Madeleine who turned the tide. First he shot a gun over the heads of the people, startling them to attention. With order established, he looked at the people and simply said, "Go home."

Stunned by the display of authority, for the mayor was the most benevolent and kind man the town had ever known, they obeyed. The officers surged forward to apprehend the man who had been fighting the inspector. Madeleine approached the inspector, his expression inscrutable. Javert bore the mayor's scrutiny with a sullen air as he brushed the dirt off his coat.

"I will expect you in my office tomorrow morning at eight o'clock, Monsieur Inspector."

Then the mayor strode away.

The following morning Javert felt a twisted mix of satisfaction and fear as he walked to the mayor's office. Javert prided himself on being honest, strove to always tell the truth and exactness of a situation. The truth was he was relieved to be here, to have made the mayor take notice. He could finally stop living this farce performing his duty when he was no longer worthy.

He knocked on the door crisply.

"Come in, Inspector."

Javert stepped inside, holding his hat in his hand. He bowed.

"Monsieur Mayor."

The mayor was sitting at his desk, several papers spread out before him. They appeared to be police reports.

"Have a seat, Javert."

Javert slowly approached and sat down in the chair in front of the mayor's desk. Why did the mayor have all those reports on his desk? Understanding seeped into his mind. Of course, the mayor must have been reviewing them for the full measure of Javert's conduct. He straightened his back. This is what he had wanted, what he deserved weeks ago.

"It has come to my attention, Inspector that you have conducted your duties with a renewed vigor for justice."

That was not what Javert was expecting to hear.

Madeleine continued. "You have been the first on scene to many crimes, catching the culprits' mid-act many times. This is to be commended. I am writing the prefect of Paris on this matter to see about a promotion."

Javert gaped at the man. "You—you can't be serious!"

Madeleine remained placid, pen poised over paper.

"Monsieur, you cannot write to the prefect asking that! I am not worthy."

"Why not?"

Javert exploded out of his chair. "Because I have committed a crime, Monsieur Mayor! A crime you refuse to acknowledge or punish me for, as you should in accordance to the law! I have worked harder, been involved with fighting with people, which as an officer I should not and you have the gall to try and promote me."

Madeleine took Javert's accusation calmly, not looking remotely bothered. He put aside his pen. "Then your behavior these past few weeks has been because you have been trying to punish yourself."

There, finally, was a trace of the reprimand Javert had been expecting since the mayor ordered him to come to his office yesterday. Snarling, Javert turned away, pacing back and forth. It was rude and by far not proper conduct, but Javert could see no other recourse to channel his frustration.

"Javert." He froze at the tone, pausing mid-step. It was very similar to the tone Madeleine used that night when he forced Javert to let the whore, Fantine, go free. "This childish behavior is unacceptable."

"Childish? Monsieur Mayor—"

Madeleine held up a hand. "Yes, childish, Javert. You were not only trying to punish yourself but get my attention as well."

The words were like a blow and Javert shrunk in on himself in sudden shame, cheeks flushing. Looking down at his boots, he pressed his lips into a thin line. He could not deny that the mayor was right.

A sigh. "And perhaps this issue needs to be handled in such a manner."

Foreboding pinched Javert's insides. He looked up. "Monsieur?"

Mayor Madeleine seemed to be wrestling with something before coming to a decision. When he spoke, he was gentle, but resolute.

"I have already given my forgiveness, but you remain here demanding discipline for your perceived wrong. You have even gone so far to take foolish risks in the line of duty in attempt to enact a punishment on yourself. Therefore, I offer you this choice. You may accept my forgiveness and return to your post and conduct yourself as the honorable man I know you to be. Or, I will discipline you in a private manner suitable for a child so that your conscience may be relieved. Whatever you choose, Inspector, the matter is forgiven and forgotten. Understood?"

Javert was unable to speak as the implications of what the mayor proposed as punishment sank in. Punished as a child. It was humiliating to even think about! But given how badly he had conducted himself as of late with his offense to the mayor, he could not choose otherwise. And, in a way, it was a relief to not be publicly disciplined and stripped of his job. He truly did not know what he would do with himself otherwise.

"I will accept whatever punishment you deem fit, monsieur."

Madeleine looked sad, but not surprised at his choice.

"Very well. For now return to your post. When your shift is over, go to my home. My housekeeper will let you in. You will wait in my study until I arrive. While there I want you to consider this: God demands justice, but He is also merciful. Why should we, his children, conduct ourselves any differently? When I arrive I will ask you about this."

"But—"

"Only then, Javert, will your punishment be administered. Understood?"

"Yes, Monsieur Mayor."

"Good. You may go."

All through his shift, Javert struggled to understand why the mayor asked him to consider God's justice and his mercy. Madeleine was considered a saint by the town. And he truly was the most charitable man Javert had ever known. He did not agree with the man's charity and how he extended it to those so unworthy and undeserving such as the whore.

But aren't you as unworthy and undeserving as her?

Javert nearly stumbled in shock. His own behavior was appalling. Was that not why he had demanded punishment, refusing to back down until Mayor Madeleine presented him with two choices? He had chosen the punishment, but was it really justice?

The highest level of justice is conscience.

The mayor's early statement from weeks before rang in his head. But surely the law—no, Mayor Madeleine respected the law but he adhered to a higher one, the one of the Lord.

I will discipline you in a private manner suitable for a child so that your conscience may be relieved.

Madeleine forgave him for spying, for denouncing him. The upcoming punishment was, as he said, to soothe Javert's conscience. In doing so, Madeleine showed mercy. He gave mercy to Fantine. He granted Javert mercy, despite how much he had resisted. Going to the mayor's home to be disciplined privately was in itself a mercy because it did not extend to his record and allowed him to keep his job and dignity.

With such confused thoughts plaguing him, Javert was relieved when his shift ended and he was able to leave the police station. Mayor Madeleine's house was another oddity, much like the man. Despite all his wealth, the man lived incredibly simple in a plain house with a simple fence and small garden.

The housekeeper greeted him warily, though Madeleine had informed her Javert was coming at least. He was escorted to Madeleine's study and left in silence.

He looked around the room, unable to curb a natural curiosity. Madeleine's study was as simple as the rest of the house. There was his desk, orderly but busy with books and mayoral missives and a simple, but quite comfortable chair. It faced a surprising large window that looked out into the garden out back and the stone wall covered in moss. If he were the type of man to appreciate beauty he would have enjoyed this sight. Alas, Javert did not care for beauty except for that of the law and his attention quickly slipped elsewhere. A fireplace was on the left side of the room, simple but sturdy. There was a chair in the corner of the room that looked distinctly out of place. It had been put there for him, he realized. So he sat stiffly, trying once more to make sense of his confused thoughts.

By the time the mayor came home, he had gotten up multiple times to pace as his thoughts left him increasingly agitated and confused.

...

[Insert missing scene]

...

Discussion concluded, Javert found himself suddenly terrified of what was to come. He kept his head down, lest he betray that fear to Mayor Madeleine, waiting for instructions.

"Remove your jacket and undo your breeches. I'll be back in a moment."

This was really happening. Javert allowed himself to shudder, face burning red with shame as he obeyed the mayor's orders. He clenched his hands into fists when he realized they were shaking. His uniform jacket removed and breeches loosened to be removed at one point, he waited with his hands clasped in front of him, head bowed, for the mayor's return.

The older man finally returned carrying a long slender stick in his hand. Javert fought not to blanch at the sight. Madeleine must have seen his panic anyway. He spoke softly. "Did your father never punish you with a switch?"

Javert's throat was dry and his eyes ached. "No. He was a convict and was sent to prison for life. I met him only once and he was not a man I wished to know."

It hurt to admit, though he had long been immune to such emotion. Somehow, in the past several hours since he stepped into the mayor's office, the emotional barriers he erected to shield himself were floundering. Thinking about his parents, now of all times, was like cutting into an old scar long thought to be healed only to find it had never healed to begin with, but had festered with pus and water. Mayor Madeleine regarded him sadly. Javert straightened. What did his parents matter? They were nothing to him, as surely as he had always been nothing to them. It meant nothing that his father had never been there to guide him or provide discipline and instruction. He had managed on his own.

"My father used it on me a few times," Madeleine admitted with a faraway look about him, like recalling those times was not easy. Whether because of how long ago they were or from the pain of the moments themselves there was no way to know for certain. "It will hurt greatly."

"I deserve it, monsieur."

Madeleine said nothing. Instead he set the switch down on his desk and took his place in his chair.

"Come here."

Suddenly Javert knew what Madeleine intended to do. Punished as a naughty child. His feet were like lead as he obeyed. He stopped next to the seated man's knees, waiting for the next command. Madeleine studied him for a moment. Javert feared the mayor would offer again to not punish him. He did not know if he could bear it. His composure was hanging by a thread already thanks to their discussion and unexpected recollection of his parents.

"Over my lap, Javert."

Utterly humiliated, Javert bent and gingerly laid his stomach on Madeleine's knees. His hands rested on the floor, palms down, bracing him up. He was completely vulnerable, completely at Madeleine's mercy. A tremble raced through him as the mayor adjusted him, pushing him over further so that his knees could not touch the ground.

A large hand rested on his back, the other on his bottom. Javert trembled again.

To his surprise, Madeleine started rubbing his back. What was he doing? He dared not ask. Instead he bore the rubbing with confusion. Madeleine did not stop for some time. Unknowingly, Javert began to relax. The hand stilled.

"This is the clearing of your conscience. May it bring you peace, Javert."

He heard the smack like a crack of thunder before he felt it. Javert gasped in surprise at the depth of the sting that followed in its wake. After that, he remained silent as best he could. Madeleine's hand fell steadily and firmly, effectively covering every inch of his bottom and upper thighs. Fire built in his backside steadily and Javert's started to breathe harder. Having never been disciplined in such a manner, he was unprepared for how much it hurt and not just on a physical level. Certainly he had been disciplined as a child while still in his mother's care and later when he went to the academy to become a police officer. This was nothing like that. Being here, in Madeleine's house, and over Madeleine's knee like an errant child, made it feel far more personal. Madeleine was punishing him for his sake, not his own. He was not hitting Javert because he disobeyed or displeased the mayor, but because Javert could not stand the thought of his wrong going unpunished and would not back down until the mayor did something.

Mayor Madeleine's words echoed in his mind even as he grunted as a particularly hard smack that landed on his upper thighs. This is the clearing of your conscience. May it bring you peace, Javert. That, more than anything, filled Javert with incredible anguish.

Then Madeleine pulled down his pants, baring his bottom to the cool air. Javert inhaled sharply, a half sob escaping him at the shame. The large hand holding him down moved up and rubbed his shoulders softly. Moments later Madeleine's other hand resumed turning his backside a deep crimson. He had not realized how much his pants had protected his backside until the punishment resumed. Javert found himself biting back a yelp with every smack, sweat building on his temples as he struggled to remain still.

How long did the mayor intend to punish him? He should have asked. A whimper squeezed from his chest as several hard smacks landed on his thighs. He would not be able to ride his horse, Gymout, comfortably for some time, he realized abstractedly.

By this time there was a war raging inside Javert; a battle of self-control he was horrified to realize he was losing. He kept his head down, arms shaking from holding himself up. His eyes were swelling, occasionally leaking against his will. Viciously, he set his jaw, determined to not give in completely to...to that. He winced, mouth opening in a silent cry as a three blows landed on his sit spot in succession.

He had no idea how long Madeleine's punishing hand fell, too focused on keeping the last vestiges of control he had. Suddenly it stopped. The hand that had just disciplined him rubbed his lower back lightly. Javert trembled anew, his control crumbling further.

"Stand and bend over the desk."

Javert meekly obeyed. It was hard to get to his feet after being across the man's knees for so long. His legs felt weak and his muscles spasmed as he moved to the desk, bending over so that his chest rested on the hard surface. There was no strength left in his arms to keep him up. He knew what was coming next. Oh how he dreaded it!

Madeleine's strong hand rested on his back again.

"Five stripes, Javert. Then it is done."

The first lick cut across his bottom, a stripe of pure fire. He couldn't hold in a muted whimper at the fresh, harsh wave of pain. The second was a little lower. Javert flinched, hands curling into fists. The third struck his sit spot, drawing a strangled cry from his lips. The fourth fell just below it at the tops of his thighs and the first hot tears started slipping down his face. The fifth and final stripe struck him fully on the thighs and effectively shattered Javert's control.

Tears fell from his eyes unabated. He desperately tried to remain quiet, swallowing the sobs so that he cried without making a sound, burying his face in his arms. His whole body trembled with the effort. Once again, Madeleine's hand rested on his back. This time it did not move, just rested there as an anchor in his misery.

Javert had been alone his whole life. First because of the choices his parents made and later by his own choice because he didn't want to hurt like he had as a child. The defenses he erected were iron and strong, aided by his determination and service to the law and justice. It kept him from being hurt, and kept the long ago hurt and loneliness locked away. Madeleine had effectively stripped that all away, leaving him completely defenseless. In doing so, he had touched a part Javert had long forgotten and buried; the part of him that longed for affectionate touch, for guidance, and reassurance. And Javert wept like he had never wept, even as a child.

When at last the tears ceased and his breathing evened, Javert slumped over the desk, drained. The hand that had rested on his back was removed and he heard the mayor stepping out of the room.

Javert remained where he was, resting his cheek on the cool wood of the desk. For a time he simply existed, thinking of nothing and feeling nothing but the exhaustion of his body. After a while he straightened up. His backside still burned with his chastisement, though the immediate sting had faded. Carefully, he pulled up his pants and straightened his shirt. Then he rubbed the tear tracks from his face as best he could. It was strange, but despite his fatigue it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders; a weight he had no idea had ever been there.

He looked around for his uniform jacket. It was not on the chair where he left it. Madeleine must have taken it.

Slowly, Javert stepped out of the study.

"Javert." The older man greeted him quietly.

"Monsieur Madeleine," he replied, dipping his head. He was surprised he did not flush at finally seeing the man's face after being stretched out first across the older man's knees and then bent over his desk. Madeleine regarded him with the same kindness he always had, though for a moment Javert could have sworn the man looked upon him fondly. It was a look Javert had sometimes seen when a father looked at his son as they worked together. He shook it off as nothing.

"Come. Mere Adele left us supper. It should be almost ready."

He should protest, he thinks, should thank the mayor for delivering his punishment and be on his way home. Instead, he obediently followed Madeleine into the kitchen where the mayor had begun warming their meal while Javert pulled himself together. Supper was a quiet affair, disturbed only by the sounds of them eating and Javert's sporadic squirming in his chair.

Finished with the meal, Madeleine cleaned up and ordered Javert to bed. Once again, the protest died before it even formed. Javert just nodded.

He found the bedroom as simple as the rest of the house. In many ways, it was like Javert's own flat on the other side of town with only the necessities of a bed, small table, and chest. A nightgown had been provided as well as a pitcher and basin. He paused. His jacket was settled on top of the chest, neatly folded and waiting for him. Realization slowly dawned. The mayor had never meant to send him away after punishing him. A knot formed underneath his ribs and he hastily turned away, focusing on pouring water into the basin to clean his hands and face.

Face cleaned, dressed for bed, Javert paused at the edge of the bed, suddenly encumbered by uncertainty. What was he doing? He had been punished for his crime. What foolishness kept him here, accepting the mayor's continued kindness? How wretched was he, the illegitimate child of a gypsy born in a jail! How could he possibly sleep in the mayor's house? Javert fled the room.

Mayor Madeleine was in the front room, prodding the fire when he stumbled in.

"Javert?"

Wide-eyed, Javert looked at the mayor, utterly stricken at the seeing the older man. In a few long strides Madeleine crossed the space between them, strong hands gripping his shoulders.

"Whatever is the matter?" Mayor Madeleine demanded, his concern plain. Javert quivered like a leaf in the wind.

"I cannot stay here, monsieur, I cannot! This is—this is improper. I am not—I should not be here. You see, monsieur, my father was a convict and my mother a gypsy harlot. She had me inside a jail. Don't you see? I am no better than the man I accused you of being! I cannot stay here," Javert babbled, looking anywhere but at the mayor.

Madeleine gaped at him. Taking advantage of the man's shock, Javert squirmed free of his hold and started towards the door.

"Wha—Javert!" Madeleine recovered and bounded forward quickly, blocking Javert's access to the door. "Stop this nonsense at once! You are in no condition to leave at this hour. You're not even dressed!"

Javert blinked and glanced down, surprised to find he was in a nightgown and not his uniform. And he was barefoot. Next to the mayor's tall form, it made him feel all the smaller.

"I apologize, monsieur," he whispered. What was going on with him? Running was not something Javert did. He was not a convict or criminal and he conducted himself with the respect his position warranted. He did not understand what he was feeling or why the blind need to run so suddenly over powered him. Bowing his head, Javert crossed his arms defensively, hoping to hide the fact he was shaking.

Madeleine stepped closer, once more grasping his shoulders firmly. It seemed he meant to speak, undoubtedly to reprimand Javert for his stupidity, but changed his mind. Gently he pulled Javert forward until his face rested against the older man's shoulder. A strong arm came around Javert's trembling shoulders then, and a broad hand rested on his head. Javert couldn't move, couldn't think, arms hanging limply at his side. Another tremor wracked his frame and a wet spot began to form on Mayor Madeleine's shirt.

For a long time, the two stood there unmoving.

Javert eventually returned to himself and he drew back from the Mayor Madeleine, thoroughly embarrassed at his behavior.

"Go to bed, Javert. It has been a long day."

He nodded weakly. There was no reason to protest. After today, Javert did not think he could ever be more embarrassed and ashamed in the mayor's presence. Javert returned to the bedroom. This time he did not pause to think. Climbing into the bed, he curled up on his stomach and buried his face in the pillow. He was almost fully asleep when he heard someone enter the bed chamber.

The light tread and strong breathing indicated it was Madeleine. Perhaps because he was half-asleep he did not grow alarmed, not even when the older man adjusted the blankets so they settled around Javert's form better. This is also probably why he thought he dreamed the light touch on his head and Madeleine's quiet words. "Sleep well, my friend."

His back was straight, whole body at attention. It was difficult to meet his superior's gaze, however, and it took all his will to not look away like a guilty schoolboy. The mayor's eyes were alight with anger and, far worse, disappointment. More than anything, the disappointment hurt to see. Mayor Madeleine, for all his peculiarities, was one of the only men Javert had ever admired. To be faced with his disappointment was a terrible blow. Not even the affair with Champmathieu and Javert's false accusation that the mayor was Valjean, a convict, had earned him this look or when the mayor had disciplined him later. Self-consciously, he lowered his eyes to the floor.

For a while he stood there, waiting for the mayor to pass judgment, but the man said nothing. As the silence stretched on, Javert dared a quick glance at his superior. Madeleine had closed his eyes, frustration and sadness warring on his face. Javert hastily returned his attention to the floor. He dared not speak. There was no justification for his behavior. He had disgraced himself, and the uniform he wore. Again. To realize he had failed in his duty so bitterly for the second time in two months was nearly enough to undo him. How weak he was, how foolish!

"Go clean up, Javert."

He startled, lifting his eyes from the floor. Mayor Madeleine regarded him gravely, the anger gone. "Give your uniform to Mere Adele. She will clean it. I have some old clothes you may wear once you have bathed."

Javert swallowed his protest, knowing it would do no good. Mayor Madeleine would not be dissuaded. The mayor was far kinder than he warranted, but it was clear he was being stripped of his uniform, his job, this time. It was no less than he deserved. He fought a cringe as Madeleine continued. "We will talk after."

What was there to talk about? How rash his actions were? Where he would be sent following his disgrace? Why he had ever thought he could leave the gutter he was born in behind?

"Yes Monsieur Mayor."

Bathed and clad in an old white shirt and black trousers, Javert faced the mayor with his head bowed. He wished there had been shoes for him to wear, but his boots were coated in mud and he dared not put them on and track it all over the mayor's home. Instead, he stood in his stockings, feeling foolish and juvenile.

Madeleine was waiting for him in his study. Seated in that same chair where…where he had been punished before. His stomach twisted into a lump recalling the experience.

...

[insert more missing dialogue]

...

He was unprepared to be taken across the mayor's knee. It was the second time he had been in this position, but this time Madeleine had not posed the punishment as a choice. Confused and afraid, he wiggled, wishing he understood the mayor's intent. Javert didn't know what to think of this. Part of him knew he deserved whatever punishment the mayor doled out; another part protested the child punishment; yet another part wondered if he would be forgiven as before. He bit back a whimper as the mayor pulled down his trousers and exposed his bare bottom to the cool air.

A familiar, large hand rubbed his back lightly. For some reason, it made Javert feel a little better about what was to come. Mayor Madeleine was a just man. He would discipline Javert as he deserved. Javert relaxed, accepting the chastisement to come.

The first smack stung as badly as the first time Madeleine spanked him. So did all the blows that followed. He was breathing heavily, sweating and fighting tears when Madeleine paused.

"Why am I spanking you, Javert?"

He cringed at the question. "Because I deserve it, monsieur."

Deserved it and far more for his failure.

"What did you do to warrant it?"

Why was he asking now? They had already discussed it. Dutifully, Javert answered anyway. "I…I acted recklessly. I disgraced the uniform I wear and became involved in a fight. I didn't send for back up like I should have and the criminal almost escaped."

"And?"

Javert was confused. What more was there? Surely he had covered everything. He shifted, uneasy and awkward in his position across the mayor's lap. "I don't know Monsieur."

"You endangered your own life needlessly." Madeleine explained patiently, the sternness from earlier framing the words. "The minute you suspected where the man had gone you should have taken a fellow policeman along. Hunch or not, knowing the full measure of how dangerous the man was, you knew better than to go alone. Surely at Toulon you never went after an escaping prisoner in such a manner."

"No monsieur," Javert replied, shame digging its hooks into his heart. He hung his head. Mayor Madeleine was right. A mistake like today while there would have gotten him killed, and possibly his fellow officers. Such negligence was unacceptable.

"Will it happen again?"

Javert wondered why the mayor would torment him so by asking that. His voice cracked as he replied. "No. I am sorry, Monsieur le maire."

That hand rubbed his back again, in small circles. "And you are forgiven, Javert. Let us finish."

Did he mean-? Javert didn't have time to think further because Mayor Madeleine resumed punishing him. But it was not his hand that fell this time. Wide eyed, Javert peered over his shoulder and was dismayed to see the mayor was holding a leather strap. Horrified, Javert turned a pleading look toward Madeleine. Madeleine rubbed his back once more, but shook his head. No, there would be no reprieve from this. Javert looked back down at the floor and fought back a cry as the belt fell yet again.

Another wallop and Javert couldn't suppress a mewl of pain. He gritted his teeth, determined to take the rest of his punishment quietly. It quickly proved easier said than done. The strap was far wider than the switch Madeleine used last time, and far more painful. Worse, the mayor was using it to cover every inch of Javert's bottom and thighs thoroughly. A particularly harsh blow landed on his sit spot and Javert couldn't swallow the wail that rose from his throat. Two more firm stripes landed practically in the same place and Javert started to weep.

When Madeleine finally stopped, Javert was a sobbing mess over his lap. This punishment had been harsher than last time, not only in terms of the discipline itself. Javert was hurting far more emotionally. He felt horribly guilty and ashamed of his behavior that landed him in this position. Above all, he wished he had not disappointed Mayor Madeleine so. And now…now, he would leave the mayor's house in disgrace with no job and no home. He sucked in a harsh breath, sobbing renewed.

Madeleine was rubbing his back again, those soothing circles from before. He wished he understood why. Certainly the man was disgusted with him!

With great effort, Javert stifled his cries, forcing the tears to slow and stop. Get a hold of yourself, he scolded. He was a grown man and should not be carrying on so! How weak, how pathetic he was! Finding a measure of control, Javert pushed to get off Madeleine's lap.

The mayor let him, guiding him to his feet. Javert kept his head down, not yet ready to face Madeleine as he fixed his pants.

A large hand tipped his chin up and reluctantly, Javert met the mayor's gaze. "You are forgiven, Javert."

Those words had a strange effect on him. Javert was not a man who believed in forgiveness for the law did not grant any. He had never been shown any either, in all his years, until Mayor Madeleine. In that moment he wanted to cry all over again. He felt light and strangely secure. This in turn terrified him more than anything

Mayor Madeleine smiled kindly, hand moving up to cup his face, a rough hand wiping away a tear.

"Go rest. I will call you for supper."

Déjà vu. He wasn't being thrown out like he expected or disparaged further for his foolishness. Instead, he was being sent to bed and told he would have supper later. Well, it was probably just a final gesture of kindness before sending him on his way. Yes, that was it. Javert ignored the way his stomach twisted and chest constricted.

Head hung down, Javert obeyed and made his way to the guestroom he slept in before. He crawled into the soft bed and buried his face in the pillow. Of all the absurd things, Javert wished he never had to leave this bed or this house. He would never admit it aloud, could scarcely acknowledge it to himself, but he felt safe here. It broke his heart to know that come morning he would have to leave it all behind and seek work as a farmer or something. Tears fell silently, soaking the pillow.

Madeleine watched Javert go with concern. He knew he had been harsh on the younger man, yet his reaction still seemed off. But, he supposed, that could be merely due to the manner of his punishment. Madeleine knew full well Javert was a grown man and should hardly be treated as a naughty school boy. On the other hand, it was the only method Madeleine could think of to provide the punishment Javert believed he deserved and not have the inspector resign or force the issue again. Truthfully, Madeleine had been reserved about spanking the inspector the first time but, seeing no recourse after Javert's anger and shame spurred him to start taking foolish risks to get Madeleine's attention, had followed through. It was actually shocking Javert was willing to be disciplined in such a manner.

He left his study and sat in his chair by the fire in the front room, lost in thought.

Javert's recklessness earlier had shocked and angered Madeleine. He knew the inspector was smarter than that, was in fact very shrewd of mind and for him to act so thoughtlessly was worrisome. More so, Javert's haste almost got him killed. Madeleine shuddered, remembering those terrifying moments when the inspector had been prone on the ground, the criminal aiming a gun at his head. It was pure luck Madeleine had been there at all and was able to interfere. Had he not, Javert would have been killed.

His hands curled into a fist. Stupid, thoughtless youth! But why did the inspector's safety matter so much? Eight years ago, wretched creature that he had been as 24601, he would not have cared. Yes, the bishop's mercy had changed him utterly, had brought about a rebirth for Valjean as a new man. That did not explain his concern for the safety of the man who had hurt his so gravely at Toulon, who had seen him as nothing but a convict and a number and not a man. That is not to say Javert was needlessly cruel, but nor did he show any compassion or gentleness. He supposed things changed when Champamthieu was convicted as Valjean. Madeleine had not learned about the trial until it was too late. He wished he could have prevented the innocent man from being condemned for his sins, but the court had made its decision and Champmathieu incarcerated at Toulon for life.

That was when Javert had revealed his suspicions, how he had contacted the prefect of Paris to denounce Mayor Madeleine, only for the prefect to write back telling him he was wrong. Javert's confidence in his abilities had been severely shaken. He had demanded dismissal because of it! Madeleine shook his head, still amazed by the honesty of the man sleeping in his guest room. What other man would confess what he had thought and done to be punished when the person he believed he had wronged knew nothing of it? Javert had been distraught and ashamed and to Madeleine he looked incredibly young.

When Madeleine had refused to punish him—forgiving him though truthfully no forgiveness was required—Javert had instituted his own punishment and had nearly been killed as well. That was when Madeleine had realized he had to act. He had considered the possibilities the night before Javert was to come to his office. Thrashing his behind had been Madeleine's instinctive response to Javert's childish behavior to get his attention. But he had initially dismissed it because Javert was a grown man. That day in the office however…Madeleine had to restrain himself from turning Javert over his knee right then and there. Instead, he sent the inspector back to finish his shift with instruction to go to his home afterwards to wait for him. That night, Madeleine took Javert over his knee and spanked him and ended the punishment with five stripes from a switch. Javert had taken the whole thing well, breaking down only at the very end. It had been impulsive, he supposed, to take Javert's uniform coat and put it in the guest bedroom. The man could very well refuse supper and being put to bed. However, Madeleine had not been able to suppress the instinct to keep Javert nearby after punishing him to reassure him he was in fact forgiven. Perhaps that then was the moment he took full concern for the inspector.

Javert did not know how to handle it, that much he was certain. He could still see the young man in his nightgown, wide-eyed and distraught once more as he tried to flee out the front door. It shocked him to see the inspector in such a way. He had stopped him, slowly pulling him into his arms so he could release the fear and confusion. Javert seemed so small, so incredibly young that night. He was like a child and Madeleine's instinct was to protect that child.

Paper rustling in his pocket, drew his attention. He removed the missive, reading it over once again with a frown. He had been writing and sending money for weeks for the innkeepers in Montfermail to send Fantine's daughter; another child in need. The poor woman was horribly sick and he knew her time was short. After this latest demand for more money, Madeleine had decided he would ask Javert to go for her. Enough was enough. In fact, he had been on his way to the station after attending to a matter on a nearby farm when he happened upon Javert and the criminal. After disciplining him so, Madeleine knew he could not send him now. It would be cruel to force him to ride a horse or take a fiacre that far on such a tender backside. Oh, Javert would do it, of that he had no doubt. The man was infinitely harder on himself than he was on others, and he was quite hard on them. He would go to retrieve the child himself, he decided. Really, he should have done it a month ago, he lamented.

He turned as the front door opened, admitting his housekeeper laden with groceries from the market. Putting the letter away, he focused on assisting her and telling her Javert would be staying for the evening meal.

Javert did not realize he had fallen asleep until Mayor Madeleine roused him.

He blinked blearily up at the older man, feeling impossibly small. Madeleine still regarded him with the same kindness he had before. The anger and disappointment were gone. It dumbfounded Javert. He remembered Madeleine's words: You are forgiven. The mayor truly meant it. But how could that be?

"Supper is nearly ready, Inspector. Come and join us when you're ready."

Javert rose stiffly, bottom still sore and warm. He quickly washed his face and used his fingers to comb back his hair into a semi-respectable look. At least it was not long like he had worn it for a few short years after Valjean had been released on parole.

Then he strode out of the room with as much dignity as he could muster to join the mayor and his housekeeper for the meal. It was a quiet dining experience, save for a few soft comments of praise for the food. Javert had been hard pressed not to dance in his chair, backside still flaming. Thankfully, the meal didn't take long.

The dishes were soon cleared, washed and put away. Before, Javert could make his exit, however, Madeleine asked Mere Adele about the inspector's uniform.

"Oh, it will be fine monsieur. It will be nice and clean when I'm through."

"And you will have it tomorrow morning when the inspector goes back to work?"

Javert snapped to attention. Goes back to work? Madeleine and the housekeeper were oblivious to Javert's shock.

"Yes."

"Thank you, Mere Adele."

The old woman nodded and departed for her own home. Javert still couldn't bring himself to move. He stared at Mayor Madeleine, desperately trying to understand what he just heard. Madeleine noticed the scrutiny with a puzzled expression. "What is it, Inspector?"

Javert jolted, hearing his title yet again in so many minutes. "I'm still an inspector?"

He hated how small his voice was, but he couldn't muster his usual commanding tone. Madeleine looked surprised. "Of course. It was never my intention to relieve you of your post."

"But…"

Madeleine waited patiently as Javert floundered for words. "But you disciplined me," he finished in a rush.

"Javert, I told you why I was spanking you."

Javert winced at the mayor's frank description of what happened. The mayor regarded him quietly. Waiting.

"I was punished because I was…reckless and thoughtless. I could have been killed," Javert said slowly. "But I thought…my uniform, monsieur."

"It was covered in mud," Madeleine said, confused. "I asked Mere Adele to clean it for you. What did you think I meant?"

Realization washed over Javert like a tidal wave, staining his cheeks pink with embarrassment. How had he so wholly misunderstood the mayor? Madeleine was not like other magistrates, in fact there was none like him from what Javert knew.

"That I was being relieved of my post."

"No." Javert started at the sternness in the mayor's voice. "No, I was not and will not relieve you of your duty for something like this. You are a good man, and an excellent policeman."

The praise caught Javert off guard. He didn't know how to handle such kind words. Kindness, gentleness, and charity were foreign to him. Thankfully, Mayor Madeleine continued. "I was angry with you today because I saw you take a foolish risk and nearly pay for it with your life. I know you know better. Police work is not easy, and there is always risk I understand that, but what happened today was unnecessary. I do not want a repeat of such foolhardy conduct, Inspector. Is that understood?"

"Yes Monsieur Mayor," Javert replied, feeling a strange rush of relief.

Mayor Madeleine eyed him gravely. "Good. I would hate to have to repeat tonight's lesson."

Blue eyes going wide, Javert couldn't help but gape at the older man. Was he serious? Surely not! But, like all things Madeleine, whenever Javert considered something absurd Madeleine deemed it not. A raised eyebrow met his disbelief. It was suddenly a little difficult to swallow. He nodded his understanding.

Madeleine clapped his shoulder. "Come. The night is young yet and I for one would like to enjoy it."

Javert dumbly followed Madeleine into the sitting room, watching as the mayor picked up a book from a side table with a ribbon in it. "There are several books in my study, if you wish to choose one."

Choose one? Sit here and read with the mayor? Ridiculous! But then, the mayor was an absurd man and did not respect common sensibilities such as police inspectors not eating with their superior after being disciplined over said magistrate's knee like a school boy. Or being sent to bed in the mayor's house and allowed to stay the night. Javert floundered, not knowing what to do. The law commanded he obey, but how was this lawful? It was not unlawful, he admitted, but it was hardly appropriate either. Shock and horror filled Javert as he realized he wanted to sit and read in the mayor's front room. What was the matter with him?

He came to his senses and opened his mouth to take his leave, only to find Mayor Madeleine had begun reading while he stood there like a ninny. Cheeks heating, Javert turned and slowly walked into the mayor's study. He approached the book shelf cautiously, not knowing if there were any books he would find interesting. To his surprise the book shelf held a very diverse selection and he found one he had wanted to read for some time.

Book in hand, he returned to the sitting room. Madeleine glanced up, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Did you find one?"

Why that sneaky-! He knew Javert wouldn't interrupt him while he was reading and thus Javert had gone to retrieve a book as suggested. Grumbling, Javert nodded and sat down in the chair next to Madeleine a little harder than he should have. He bit back a yelp as his backside reminded him why he needed to be a more cautious in how he moved for the next couple days. Forcefully, he opened the book to start reading.

He could have sworn he heard Madeleine chuckle, but when he glanced up the older man was absorbed in his own reading.

Javert had never seen Mayor Madeleine angry. Not like this. Part of him crowed victory at breaking the saintly mask the old man wore, while another part shuddered with dread because the anger was more than justified. But his failure was plain, the pride he once had in his obedience to the law broken. And for what? To satisfy the jealousy flowing in his veins of the child Cosette, the Mayor's adopted daughter? For shame!

He swallowed hard when the mayor stepped forward, anger burning him.

"Go home," Madeleine ordered. "I expect an explanation when I arrive later."

Javert bowed and quickly walked out. It was only as he walked away from the city hall did he realize he had automatically started going to Mayor Madeleine's house and not his flat. His step faltered, confusion trapping him.

The mayor ordered him home and that he expected Javert to explain later. Surely that was not possible if he was at is flat! Unless the mayor went there after he dealt with disaster Javert had accidently created. Javert paused. But the mayor could very well mean his own home. The past several months had found Javert there more often than probably proper, spending the evenings reading and talking by the fire. Often times he was invited to supper with Madeleine, Cosette, and Mere Adele. Why would the mayor call it Javert's home? Why did he think of it as home? He did not have a home!

Where then, was he supposed to go?

It wouldn't do to stand here undecided. Javert resumed walking, not sure where he was going. Instead, he wandered the town, patrolling and yet not, until the sun was nearly setting and he found himself at Mayor Madeleine's door. For the first time the door looked well and truly terrifying to him. He didn't want to go in. He had turned to retreat to his flat when the door opened.

"Javert."

He froze right down to the marrow of his bones. Mayor Madeleine sounded furious. Slowly, he looked back, horrified to see the mayor standing at his full height, arms crossed sternly over his chest just outside the door.

"Inside."

Javert did not dare protest and quickly obeyed. Madeleine took his hat and coat without a word and directed him towards the study. He glimpsed Mere Adele and Cosette in the kitchen as he passed. They both looked concerned. The dread blooming in his chest doubled. He had a strong feeling he knew what awaited him once he and the mayor were in the study and the humiliation of the woman and child being present to hear it was enough to make him feel sick.

Inside the study, Javert stood at attention as Madeleine closed the door behind them.

"Where were you?"

Javert winced. "I was…patrolling, monsieur."

"Did I not instruct you to come straight here?"

"I was not sure, Monsieur Mayor." Not only unsure, but thoroughly confused by where he was supposed to go.

Madeleine frowned. "I was unclear?"

He met the older man's gaze carefully. "You instructed me to go home, Monsieur Mayor."

Some of the anger faded, understanding dawning in the old man's green eyes. "Ah, I see."

Did he? Did Madeleine see how calling his home Javert's home was a shock? Javert doubted it.

"So you patrolled the town instead of coming and asking for clarification."

Heat filled Javert's face and he looked down. "Yes, sir."

He should have, he knew, but he was already deeply embarrassed and had not wanted to risk annoying the mayor further. It seemed he had failed again. His shoulders slumped.

"Javert, next time just come ask me for clarification even if I am upset with you."

Next time? There wouldn't be a next time! Javert never wanted to repeat this experience. And it was far from over. Still, he replied respectfully. "Yes, Monsieur Mayor."

Madeleine studied him for a moment before sighing. "Have a seat Inspector. It's time I heard your report regarding the situation this morning."

...

[insert missing explanation]

...I know, don't kill me...just imagine what could have happened and then tell me in a review...

...

...

"Remove your coat and trousers and come here."

Javert's stomach dropped to the floor. No! Not now. Not when the servant and child were still in the house. But Madeleine's countenance brooked no argument. Sluggishly, he obeyed. Once he was standing in just his under clothes he made his way to the mayor's side. Madeleine coolly guided him down across his lap, adjusting his position to make the coming chastisement easier to administer.

He felt awkward and gangly, lying across Madeleine's knees. More so, he was scared. This time Madeleine did not rub his back for more than a second before landing the first stern smack. Javert jerked forward, stunned by the force of the blow, a cry escaping him. He quickly clamped his jaw together, unwilling to make another sound. It was difficult to do. The mayor was not taking it easy on him. Far too soon for his liking, his under pants were tugged down and the spanking resumed on his bare backside.

By then, Javert was crying silently. He was desperately swallowing every sob as the hard spanking continued. Because of this, he had started shifting and squirming, whole frame shuddering with the effort. Madeleine's hand continued to fall steadily, unyielding and meticulous as it painted his bottom a deep crimson.

When at last the spanking stopped, Javert could barely muffle the sounds of his sobs in his arms. He felt horrible and pathetic. He was gutter trash; that was what he was. Look what he had caused? He had never left the gutter!

Javert wasn't ready to be pulled up right and wrapped in Madeleine's embrace. The shock nearly stopped the tears, but only nearly. Feeling the older man's arms wrapped around him securely, rubbing his back gently and rocking undid him. He wept with complete abandon. Unconsciously, he buried his face in Madeleine's shoulder, one hand coming up to clutch at the man's shirt. These were the actions of a child seeking reassurance and comfort, though Javert did not know it. Madeleine did, however, and he responded as any parent would to his child's distress. He soothed and rocked him, murmuring unintelligible words of comfort as he stroked his head.

Gradually, the tears died down and Javert quieted. He was completely exhausted and drained. There was nothing more he wanted than to stay protected in Madeleine's hold, but his pride would not allow him to disgrace himself further. But it was so hard to move. He started when he felt Madeleine stand, picking him up as well. Instinctively, he fisted his hands in the mayor's shirt, pressing closer.

A large hand patted his head reassuringly.

They began to move. Javert closed his eyes, willing away the humiliation of being carried like a babe. It was no great surprise he found himself being put to bed. Whenever he was disciplined like this, he always wound up in bed afterwards for a while. Madeleine's arms were strong and gentle, lowering him easily. The instinct to grab the pillow and bury his face was immensely strong. He quickly squashed it. Enough was enough, tired as he was. If he arm snaked under the pillow a little bit, that was all right.

Madeleine pulled the blankets up and Javert muttered a protest. Was he really being tucked in to bed?

"Hush, son," Madeleine murmured.

Son?

Tears sprang to his eyes once more. He was nobody's son. But here was Madeleine, calling him son. Mayor Madeleine who punished him like a child, who worried about him, who was teaching him how to bend and be merciful…who treated Javert as he once believed a father would.

Madeleine did not seem to realize the effect of his words. He rested a hand on Javert's head. "Sleep."

Javert obediently closed his eyes and breathed out. The hand lingered for a moment, petting his hair before it departed. And he slept.

Any thoughts?