A/N: Oops, well I am a terrible human being. Sorry, it's a short chapter but it is better than nothing I hope. Leave me a review so I know I still have a living audience for this thing.

Hindsight, and foresight for that matter, should have warned Enjolras to broach his request with some sensitivity. As it was, he had neither when he asked Vanessa to accompany him to his family home.

As soon as the words left his mouth she snatched her hand from his and stepped back along the cathedral steps, putting more space between them. "You want me to what?" she almost shouted before she remembered herself. Although the late afternoon crowds were beginning to thin around the cathedral, there were still enough people to hear her outburst. Vanessa glanced around before turning her attention back to Enjolras. There was a flash of hurt behind his eyes before he caught himself and raised his hands in platitude. "I'm sorry, it was foolish of me to ask," he said hurriedly.

"Why would you want me there?"

"I don't, it was my mother's request –"

Vanessa raised an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest. "If you don't even want me there, then why ask it of me?" she said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she turned and walked away down the cathedral steps. She prayed that he would understand the conversation was finished, but her prayer fell on deaf ears as Enjolras came clattering down the steps after her. "Wait, Vanessa!" he called as he scrambled to catch up with her. With a soft sigh, Vanessa slowed her pace as she reached the end of the street and waited for him.

As Enjolras approached she glanced over at him and watched him stumble into step with her. "I didn't mean it like that, and you know it," he said wearily. He was running his hands through his hair again, a small gesture betraying a swell of emotions. "I don't even want to go myself," he said, "but my mother is one of the few people I could never refuse." A deep, wretched sigh filled the silence between them as Enjolras turned his attention to the ground at his feet.

With a silent sigh of her own, Vanessa nodded. "You don't want to face them alone, do you?" she asked quietly.

Still staring resolutely at the cobbles, Enjolras shook his head almost imperceptibly. "We didn't exactly part on good terms," he muttered as way of explanation.

A small smile spread across Vanessa's face as she hooked an arm through Enjolras' and tugged him closer. "I'd kind of figured that bit out, to be perfectly honest," she laughed.

Despite his sombre mood, Enjolras chuckled. "Of course you did," he said, nudging his elbow into her ribs. "You're far too clever for that pretty face of yours."

As the words left his mouth, Vanessa felt her own fall open. She stared at him wide-eyed as he flushed a dark crimson and snapped his mouth shut. "I think that's the first time I've ever heard you comment on someone's appearance in a positive light," Vanessa laughed; quick to dispel the sudden panic in the mood.

For a few seconds longer, the panicked blush remained on Enjolras' cheeks. Then, much to Vanessa's relief, a smiled cracked the awkward expression on his features and he laughed. "I can appreciate beauty as well as any man. Just because I don't go around shouting my attraction from the rooftops like some people, doesn't mean I don't feel it," he said, falling back into step with Vanessa.

Sparing a furtive glance in Enjolras' direction, Vanessa chose her next words carefully. Occasionally, she could speak of his friends without spurring him into a melancholy and there was no denying that the occasions were becoming more and more frequent. "So I shouldn't expect any beautiful poems or extravagant declarations of love any time soon?" she tried, hoping he would make the link himself and spare her the need to speak their names aloud.

A small sigh of laughter escaped Enjolras' lips as his head bowed. For a moment Vanessa feared that she had forced the matter too soon, but Enjolras shook his head with a wry smile and said "No, I can't see myself following in their hopelessly romantic footsteps any time soon."

"They were a passionate group, your friends." Silence met her comment and Vanessa suddenly worried that she had tipped Enjolras into a melancholy, but as she turned to look at him she found his eyes resting firmly on her. She raised a questioning eyebrow at his attentive stare. "They were your friends as well, weren't they?" Enjolras asked quietly as his hand came to rest atop her own, seemingly without its owner's knowledge.

With a slow nod, Vanessa smiled. "Yes, they were I suppose. I always saw them as more Nicolas' friends than my own, that is until you began meeting in the Musain. Then I grew to love them too, I guess."

Enjolras nodded his understanding. "They were easy people to love," he said, his voice catching only once before the pair fell into a companionable silence. For the rest of the walk back to the café they were lost in memories of friends gone but not forgotten.

A week later, two silent figures wove their way through the streets of Paris towards the grand city mansions that were worlds apart from the ramshackle buildings of Rue Saint Michel. One could be forgiven for mistaking the pair as mourners, not long since leaving the deathbed of a poor relative, for all their sombre silence and melancholy expressions. As it was, the crisp October weather snatched the attention of most passers-by and so they went on their way unnoticed. As they reached the outskirts of the wealthier part of the city, Vanessa's resolve began to crack. Her walk slowed as she took in the more humble of mansions currently surrounding them.

Noticing the lack of her presence at his side, Enjolras stopped and turned. "What's wrong?"

Vanessa dragged her eyes away from the buildings and shook her head. "I really don't belong here," she muttered before tugging at her borrowed dress. Watching her carefully now, Enjolras could see the faint tremor in her hands as they brushed at the dark green material. With a good-natured sigh, he stepped up beside her and took her hands in his own. Dipping his head to catch her eyes, he shot her a wry smile and said, "Neither do I. We don't have to do this, we can turn around right now and go home." He fought to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice; if he was truly honest, he could think of no better course of action than turning around and sprinting back to the flat. His hopes were dashed when a resolute frown blossomed on Vanessa's face and she shook her head. "No, we came here for a reason. We need to see this through, you need to see this through."

The pair shared a trembling smile before continuing down the street, his hand still clasped with hers. Between them they built a small reservoir of strength, each bolstering the other. "It looks so different in daylight," Vanessa mused, drawing Enjolras out of his nervous reverie.

Enjolras glanced around them, at the streets in which he had grown up. "I suppose it does, is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asked.

Vanessa shrugged. "Both, I suppose. I never realised there was so much beauty in Paris."

Musing that she probably hadn't been looking hard enough, Enjolras glanced over at the young woman beside him. Yes, she definitely hadn't been looking hard enough. Satisfied that Vanessa was not likely to abandon him any time soon, Enjolras turned his mind to the task ahead of him. He had not even seen his mother since he walked out four months ago. Four months, had it really been that long? The fight that caused his departure still felt so fresh in his mind, though, he supposed he had always had an excellent memory for conversations.

Realising that they were getting closer now to his familial home, Enjolras schooled his features into an impassive, genteel expression and inhaled deeply. This was a ritual he had been through so many times before – preparing for battle. His mind was a blur of scripts being played as though on a stage, each conveying a different possible scenario. Despite his best efforts, his gaze slipped over to Vanessa once more. Her face was just as stoic as his own, her mask firmly in place. He wondered briefly at this fierce persona; she would make an exceptional actress or public speaker if she turned her mind to it.

As they turned the final corner, the De Winter mansion came into view. It was by far the grandest mansion along the quaint little street. Huge wrought iron gates separated it from its neighbours, the De Winter crest at their centre. The mansion seemed to peer over these gates like a schoolmaster over half-moon spectacles, or in fact, the way Combeferre so often liked to do. Swallowing hard, Enjolras approached the smaller gate off to the right and slipped through it with Vanessa close behind. After a moment's deliberation, Enjolras reached for the knocker and let it fall three times. The sound could be heard reverberating through the old halls behind the heavy oak doors, followed quickly by the sound of feet approaching. "Well," Enjolras muttered as Vanessa gave his hand one last squeeze before dropping it, "no turning back now."