Cosette was fully restored to normal, clinging to Marius every chance she got. Erik was pouting again. Marguerite was, for the most part, her normal self, but was very tipsy, and, occasionally, her eyes kept snapping in Chauvelin’s direction. Percy was no longer pinning for Cosette, and was doing his best to remind Marguerite that they were married and loved each other very much. Christine, however, was still a problem; they’d given her what was left, but it hadn’t been much. She occasionally would smile at Raoul, hold his hand, give him a tiny, chaste kiss, but she could more often than not be found with her arms around Javert. The inspector had been implored to simply put up with it for now; Shadow promised she’d fix it as soon as she could. Another cynic bunny was due to spontaneously combust any day now. Until then, he’d simply have to exhibit patience, and maybe indulge her a bit. Javert reluctantly indulged as much as he ever did, and constantly scowled.

However, after a few days, the cynic bunny still had not exploded. Shadow needed someone she knew she could trust to play chaperone until the matter was solved.

“Please, sir,” Shadow begged. “You have no idea how much respect I have for you, and how much this means to me! I have too much to do here to follow them everywhere. I don’t trust Lita, and Ellen would screw it up somehow!”

“Mamzelle, I’m flattered, but I hardly think-”

Providence struck Shadow with an idea. “Do this for me and I’ll let you see The Crystal Globe!” (A.N: cough Cliché cough cough)

“The what?”

“It’s this ball Emily has hidden in one of the cellars. I can help you see your home and how it’s doing without you! Please, please, please! I could get in so much trouble if she knew I’d let you see it, so you know it’s a fair trade!”

Percy sighed. Well, he’d been rather bored with the inactivity of the past week, so he might as well be doing something.

“Fine,” he agreed with a shrug. Shadow threw her arms around him, in ecstasies.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you so much! You have no idea what a help this is!”

The castle needed a good airing out, and Shadow needed the characters out of the way. “Ellen, take some of them on a walk through the garden, okay?”

Ellen shrugged; she’d been driving everyone nuts lately. “Okay, but who should I take?”

“I don’t care!” she cried, randomly pulling a couple of them and shoving them in Ellen’s direction. “Just get them out of here, or I’ll loose my mind!”

“Did you ever have it?” asked Lita, but she was ignored.

The make shift party consisted of Javert (Christine was locked in doors to keep her from following), Eric, and everyone from 1792. They were promptly herded out the door, and into the damp garden.

The garden was very lush, with rhododendrons starting to bloom, and climbing into very thick foliage, resembling something of a “rhododendron tree monster,” and rivaling Sir Percy for height. And so, they walked, and walked, and Eric kept on looking nervously over his shoulder.

“Lud, man, what on earth is the matter?” Sir Percy finally asked, his arm linked with Marguerite’s.

“I keep on thinking I hear someone following us,” he grumbled, pausing to look in a flowering bush.

“It’s probably just a rabbit,” Marguerite said, brushing it off. It was at that moment when the party heard the sound of a gun going off. A cartridge of fluff dust found it’s target right at the back of Marguerite’s head, which knocked her straight into Chauvelin, who toppled to the ground. Javert was already running in the direction the sound had come from, as was Sir Percy, and Ellen was trying to keep up. Realizing what that cartridge was, Eric knew he wanted to be no where near a love struck woman when she woke up, for fear of her six foot something husband. He quickly dashed into the brush after the other three.

And that left Chauvelin with Marguerite, the former having a rather large lump on his head for smacking into the pavement. Thusly it took him a few moments to understand what had just happened, and to take in his surroundings. Actually, his surroundings were Marguerite, who had glued herself to him, rather large, fake looking pink hearts stuck in her eyes.

“How can you even see anything like that?” he grumbled, trying to pry her off. Naturally, it did nothing, as she was even worse than she had been in the fluff dust storage room.

And because luck seemed to hate him, Sir Percy, breathless from the run was the first to return. “Well,” he began, “they got away, but the Inspector’s still-” He paused mid-sentence, and sort of had a tic in his cheek at the rather suggestive image in front of him.

“Um…I know what this looks like, but I can explain!” the agent hurriedly began.

THWACK!

They passed Raoul and Marius, who where engaged in a game of checkers. “What on earth happened to you?” the later asked, and Chauvelin delivered some choice obscenities not fit for repetition.

Lita sighed, shook her head, and called simply “Shadow, get the bandages!”

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