Stroke of Midnight (Javert/Casual)

[lefantomeromance]

"Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick and think of you.
Caught up in circles confusion is nothing new."

Click clack click clack against the pavement. The sound of her shoes echoed in the distance, making the wintery New York street seem a mass of hollow space. There was a soft pad in between her heel and the snow, but it wasn't much. Not enough to get rid of that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was in a bad horror movie, and she was the victim.

She glanced all around her, hugging her coat closer. Here hair whipped around in the wind lightly, tugging on the brim of her beret. Her iPod was turned down low, so she could hear things, but still have a sense of comfort around her in this dark night. But she knew that comfort was only a facade.

She was being followed.

Not the follow-to-see-where-you're-going followed. The stalking type followed. How did she know? Let's just say she had a sixth sense when it came to these things.

After all, she was in the worst part of town. But it was the quickest way home from the club... She didn't want to be out too late.

Oh, who was she kidding? It was almost midnight. She should have taken the safer way home, instead of knowing that something terrible was to unfold. All she would have had was sore feet and maybe a cold!

Now, it might me much worse, especially when the men were gaining on her.

A gruff laugh billowed from a few yards behind her. She picked up her pace, careful not to attract their attention too much to her escape plot. She doubted there would be an escape, but what kind of woman would she be if she didn't try?

Their feet picked up with hers, however, so she went into a steady run. She ran faster and faster, glancing back ever second, tears streaming down her red-with-the-cold cheeks.

One of them caught her arm, making her staggar back. "You think you're getting away, after all this time I spent following you? You precious little thing... I should have fun with you!"

The other gripped her hair, pulling her head back to face him. He stroked her cheek, and she cried more. "What shall we do with you, then, my pet?"

"Let's give her something she'll never forget, eh Ernie?"

"Please... Let me go... I beg you..."

The second man chuckled. "Sorry, lady... This is where we get off!" He dragged her to a near by alley... By her hair.

She struggled and stifled screams. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She screamed at the top of her lungs: "Help me!!!" The other man covered her mouth with duct tape.

Things were not going well for Miss Christine Daaé this stroke of midnight.

[NINA TENARDÍZ]

"Where you get off, eh, boys?" asked a rough voice from the end of the alley. Before they could run away, two heavy hands fell on their shoulders. Looking up, they saw a man much taller than them, smiling down at them in a mix between triumph and politeness. "I'll need to see your tickets."

A late call had brought Javert to that part of town. Patron-Minette was acting up...again. He'd already bagged one of the Thenardier girls in his car down the street--Azelma--and was supposed to be bringing her back to the station, but the sight of a woman running from two men was...suspicious at best.

"Wait here," he'd told Azelma, locking the car and setting after them.

"Where the hell else would I go?" she'd cried after him, shrugging uncomfortably in her cuffs.

Javert had ignored her, taking off with his uniform coat unzipped so that he could reach his nightstick or gun if he needed to. People didn't understand why he did this; any other officer would have focused on getting Azelma back to the station, passed the blonde off as just an incident. But Javert couldn't do that--he was almost physically incapable and most certainly mentally incapable of letting a potential crime go uninterrupted within his knowledge.

"This," he continued, shoving one of them to the wall, "is where she gets off, I believe, gentlemen."

He went to cuff the one he'd shoved and the other tried to run. Offhandedly, Javert said, "Don't bother. I'll be obligated to use this." He tapped his gun without even looking twice at the guy. Before the man could think to disobey, Javert had grabbed him and was cuffing him as well.

"On the ground, both of you," he said, in a surprisingly conversational tone. He forced one of them to sit, and the other hopelessly followed suit.

It was only then that he spared a glance at Christine.

[lefantomeromance]

Now that her hands were free, Chrisinte ripped the duct tape off her sore mouth, still sobbing. Her hair was wild around her, her hat discarded in the snow.

She sobbed uncontrollably, curling up into a ball. She shook hard. When she looked up at her savior, all he could probably see were tears, red eyes filled with a waterfall of sorrow. She hiccupped, rubbing her red little nose with her gloved hands, backing away a considerable distance from the men who tried to rape her.

"Please... Please get them away from me!" She cried hysterically to Javert, her hero. She wiped her eyes, but the mascara ran down her cheeks, making her look demented.

She couldn't glance at them another second. She moved away even further, hitting the back of the garbage can that was in the alley.

She bunched her red scarf in her hands, pressing it to her lips in a stolen kiss, as if it were her sweetheart's lips instead of the rich cloth.

'Oh, Raoul... I miss you so much... Where... Where are you when I need you?'

[NINA TENARDÍZ]

Javert remained calm, watching her. "Ma'am, they'll get what they deserve, don't you worry. They can't hurt you now." After a moment, he repeated: "Ma'am, please, control yourself. I need you to cooperate."

He seemed to show no sympathy, but then, he had saved her when all hope had seemed lost. He didn't seem phased by how horrible she looked either--and in truth, he didn't notice. She was a citizen in need, that was all. Javert turned to the criminals and hefted them to their feet roughly. "To the car gentlemen!"

Over his shoulder, he said, "Please follow me," to Christine.

He guided the criminals out of the alley and down the street, checking back once to make sure Christine was following. In the fog, the car was becoming visible, and so was Azelma in the back seat. Her confused expression could be seen through the window.

Javert unlocked the car and gestured for Azelma to get out; she did so, still extremely confused. "What's 'is?" she demanded. "Are you letting me go?"

"No," he said with a shrug. "Get in the front seat, and leave the door open too."

Azelma did as she was told, eying the resisting criminals who had since been packed into the back seat. It was actually rather entertaining, seeing them struggle, when she herself was calm. She looked sideways at Christine. "Ohhh, a lady."

Javert had pulled the little speaker of the police radio out, and was currently reporting the incident; "Javert to base...I've got three here, one Patron-Minette, two I just picked up. We've got a distraught victim too. I'm going to need another car over here."

[lefantomeromance]

Christine eyed the girl warily. She seemed nice enough, but she was in the process of being arrested. She seemed no more safe than the two men in the back seat of the car, whom she hoped she wouldn't have to ride with.

She wiped her eyes, looking at Javert. He seemed... distant to her. There was nothing really warm and heroic about him, though she wished there was. He was her savior, however, and he at least deserved her thanks.

As soon as he was done talking on his radio, she shuffled up to him. She didn't want to look him in the eyes, for then he could see how screwed up she was at that moment. Instead she merely looked up through her eyelashes, rubbing her hands together in nervousness.

"Th...Thank you... For saving me I mean."

'Be polite, Christine! Say something else! Ah, I know! Say your name!'

"My name's Christine. Christine Daaé... What about you, sir?"

[NINA TENARDÍZ]

Javert was replacing the speaker into the little holder near the radio when she came up to him; he looked up and let her talk at him until she finally stammered out what her name was. "Detective Javert," he replied in a more business-like tone than when he'd spoken with the criminals. "And there really isn't any need to thank me."

He turned back to the car and began locking the doors. "What'dja save 'er from?" Azelma asked curiously.

"'Zelma, what did I tell you about confidentiality?" he asked, sounding like a stern father. The girl spent much of her time in Javert's car, as she always was detained when it came to Patron-Minette. The girl didn't have any skill when it came to fleeing a scene; that had been handed down to her older sister, Eponine.

"Don't call me that!" she protested. "Who are you, m'sister?"

Javert didn't answer, turning back to Christine. "Another uniform will come pick them up. I'll have to take you down to the station...you understand." It wasn't a question.

[lefantomeromance]

"O-oh..." Christine nodded lightly. All she wanted to do was crawl into her bathtub and take a nice long soak, to forget about everything that happened that day. It didn't help that not only did she not recieve any tips or applause, she was almost raped by two sleezy men who may or may not be infested with diseases.

The only thing that stopped them was so cold and distant, she didn't know if she could have a friendly conversation with him, in substitute for taking a bath. Conversation always helped her get over things faster, but she wasn't getting any of that from this Detective Javert.

'What an odd name...' she thought. 'It sounds French... Like Raoul.'

She stuck closer to Javert, but not too close so that she bothered him. She just didn't want to be alone, especially with those two men staring at her from the backseat of the policeman's car, sick desire in their eyes.

"Wh... When will the uniform be here? It's cold and..." she didn't want to finish her sentence, for she doubted he would care.

'It's cold and I'm scared...'

[NINA TENARDÍZ]

Javert turned and leaned against the now-closed door, his arms crossed, watching her. He had been confronted with both victims and criminals in her state; the crying wreck of a woman. He had never really completely figured out what they thought crying was going to solve, but... women.

"It should be a few minutes, Miss...Christine," he said as he recalled her name quickly. He realized he probably should do something to make her more presentable for questioning. "Is there...anything I can get you?" Javert asked, blinking slowly.

Azelma tapped on the window. "Ask him to get me a coffee!"

Javert lightly banged his elbow against the window, making her sit back. He smirked a little, then looked back up at Christine. "Don't mind her. Anyway."

[lefantomeromance]

Christine blinked at the girl, shrugging an apology through the window. She also blinked at Javert. "You mean like a coffee, right? I don't really drink coffee. Tea would be nice, but I doubt you'd find a hot tea vendor in this area."

She looked around hugging her coat closer. "If... If you don't mind, sir, I'd just like to listen to my iPod..." She popped in one earphone and put on some Enya, to calm her nerves. She exhaled slowly, rubbing her chilly nose a little, and smoothing back her hair.

Her eyes widened. "Oh, dear..." She looked all around her, turning this way and that. "My hat! It must have fell off when..." Her eyes narrowed. "I... I should go back and get it... It was a present, you see." She turned to Javert, hoping he would let her go.

[NINA TENARDÍZ]

Javert blinked and looked at the two men he'd detained for a moment. He hadn't meant coffee...he'd meant a napkin or something to clean her up. But a hot drink might help. He couldn't very well tell her that most gas stations sold tea, as she had tuned him out, but he made note of it.

He frowned slightly, shrugging. "I'm sorry, I can't let you do that. Once the backup comes, I'll send them after your hat." He couldn't risk her running away, ashamed, now. And he'd been involved in cases where women had done that. They didn't want to get involved in court or a stupid excuse like that. Didn't they understand that it was their duty to testify and put their attackers behind bars?

[lefantomeromance]

Christine blinked a few times, nodding slowly. Did this guy think she would have run away? Why would a woman who was about to be raped run away? That seems stupid when her attackers are already in custody...

No matter. She stood there in the snow, looking Javert over slowly. Perhaps she could figure him out, the way she usually did. Most people were two demensional to her, but this guy... He seemed different. The way he carried himself seemed like he belonged to the law, like it was a part of him. She saw his arms were instinctively inclined towards reaching for his gun, ready to pull it out if necessary. His eyes were like a crystal dart, scoping out the land as if he were a hunter eyeing his game. It almost frightened her, but at the same time... He seemed... Genuine. After all, he was a cop.

"How long have you been a police officer, Detective?" She inquired.

[NINA TENARDÍZ]

Javert assessed the damp pavement in front of him, lit blue by the faint streetlights, as he listened to her. Well, less listened to her than let her talk through him. He never was one for casual conversation, unless he saw some sense in it.

He finally looked up from the pavement as she asked him a question. How long he had been a cop?

It was a question to which he immediately smiled and said, "All my life." He was telling the truth, really--he was born on the outside, but not to attack; to protect.

[lefantomeromance]

Christine nodded at his response. She had guessed as much, but she wasn't sure. She smiled at him, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"And you find it enjoyable? It's not a job to you, is it? More like a career?" She asked, blinking again. She blinked a lot when she was tired, and boy was she tired. Maybe she could use that coffee... No, she didn't want this man to go any more out of his way for her than he already had.

[NINA TENARDÍZ]

Javert snorted, adjusting the sleeves on his uniform jacket. "Law is not a job, Ms. Daae, it's a way of life. A way of life that not all choose to follow." He jerked his head in the direction of the car with a smirk. A mumble could be heard coming from Azelma.

He wasn't sure what to make of this girl, but he wouldn't let it bother him. He had found that once someone realized he was not exactly a people person, they went into a grumpy silence and only talked to him when they needed to. People didn't like being cut off, he'd learned, but it hadn't stopped him...and people could go stuff themselves if they didn't like it.

[lefantomeromance]

Christine was about to say something, but stopped herself. She looked to where Azelma sat in the car, giving a sad smile at the girl. "Maybe she was in the wrong place at the wrong time," she said absent-mindedly.

"Do you live far from where you work? I mean, it is New York City, so you couldn't possibly live that far."

She probably annoyed him with her banter. She could see it on his face. But... she didn't know any other way to cope with what had happened. It was either that, or sing, and she doubted he wanted to hear her sing.