Hey guys. For some reason, I just can't finish this story. Call me obsessed, but... well, I'm obsessed. I have no argument. They're too adorable. So yes, this is an unnecessary chapter, but I wanted to write it. :)

I was just rereading parts of the book last night, and saw something about laughter on Marius' lips. I wanted to know what Cosette did to make him laugh. I'm a sap, I know, and had to write something about it.

When Marius woke again, it was past noon, and Cosette was still fast asleep beside him. With a feeling of contentment and absolute fulfillment, he looked at her sleeping sweetly beside him and allowed himself to relive the events of the past night. Then the knock on the door intruded into his beautiful bubble of happiness.

He thought about ignoring it, but when another knock sounded, he decided that wasn't the best option. He carefully stepped out of bed so as not to disturb Cosette and put on a dressing gown before opening the door a crack. Basque stood there, and Marius had never been less happy to see him. Apologetically and, truth be told, embarrassed, he told Marius that he had a visitor awaiting him downstairs.

"Who?" he said curtly. If someone was disturbing him today, he'd sure as hell better be damn important.

"He wished to remain anonymous. He wants his visit to be a surprise."

Marius rolled his eyes, but said he'd be downstairs soon. He closed the door and looked sulkily back to the bed, where he saw Cosette sitting up, sleep in her eyes, her hair tousled, holding the blankets around her bare shoulders against the cold.

"The angel awakens," he remarked, marveling, and she held out her arms for him to come back and join her. He couldn't resist the temptation, and he sat back on the bed and wrapped his arms around her as she clung to him.

"What did he want?" she asked distractedly, busy kissing his chin, cheeks, neck.

"He says someone is downstairs and wants to see me," he said dreadfully.

She pouted. "You're not going, are you?"

He sighed- he didn't want to. "Someone is waiting for me. He wants me downstairs."

"And I want you here," she said impishly, raising her eyebrows at him. "And surely what I want counts for more than just anyone who stops by to visit?"

He had to smile at her logic. "How right you are. But you've had me for the past twelve hours-"

"And that is still not enough," she said. "Twelve years is not enough," she whispered, kissing him and holding him tightly by the arms, trying to pull him to lay down with her.

"Then be glad we have the rest of our lives," he declared, brightening at the thought. It gave him hope and ecstasy. But he maneuvered himself ruefully away, standing up and gaining a few feet away from Cosette. He laughed aloud when he realized he could not get away completely- she held his hand between both her own, pulling on him, intent on not letting him get away from her grasp.

"I've got a hold on you, monsieur. You are not going nowhere without my permission," she ordered, her face filled with light as she tried to look serious and full of authority. She was adorable. He laughed again- everything seemed happy to him, wonderful, and hilarious, and he couldn't keep the smile off his face. He felt as if he was the only man in the world, the happiest, the most fortunate.

"I shall do whatever you wish. I lay at your feet... madame la baronne," he finished, and she smiled at the title. "You have me captured by the heartstrings, and I am bewitched. I beg for your permission to let me go, for you know I will not go far. I cannot be gone long, for you have a hold on me impossible to break."

She thought, a very pondorous look on her face as she overdramatically considered his request. Finally, she graciously sighed and loosened the grip on his hand.

"I suppose if you must, but only if you promise to return your attention to me later today. And you shall not leave without a payment."

"A payment?" he inquired, smiling mischievously and wickedly, leaning down over her, half a smile on his lips.

She pursed her lips, drawing the blankets around herself. "Monsieur, if you are going to be bad, I think I shall just have to let you go for free." Then, she turned away haughtily, but he could see her shoulders shaking with laughter. Her beautiful, smooth, pale shoulders...

"Madame!" he said, begging. "Please, let me back in your good graces. I cannot leave knowing I have disappointed you. As I said, I am at your feet. You are a goddess, and I am nothing but a mere man. You are beautiful, good and gracious, and I forever worship you. Please allow this subservient, inferior disciple of yours to fulfill his earthly duties, and see that blasted man downstairs."

She sighed again, turning to face him. "When you use pretty words like that, I am left with no choice but to do as you wish. But on one condition: one kiss," she said, drawing his hand down and wrapping it around her waist; he was glad to comply. Before he drew himself up, she whispered into his ear: "And you are not subservient or inferior, for I am just as bewitched as you. You just spend too much time being wonderful to allow me to show you."

When he rose up, his eyes were wide with enchantment, and then the mischievous look crossed them again. She laughed allowed, shoving him lightly.

"Now go, before I start to miss you! Go!"

Laughing, he did as he was told and began making his way to the door.

"Marius?" she whispered. He turned, expecting her enchanting look again. Instead he found her smirking. "I don't think our visitor is too keen to see you in your dressing gown. You may want to consider a change of attire."

He blushed furiously as she giggled, and he went to fetch some more appropriate clothing from the bureau.

"As for me? I'm going back to sleep, for no one downstairs wants to see me, and you kept me up quite late."

And with that, she curled back into the blankets and was silent. It was like a bird had awoken, sang and filled the room with its sweet chatter, and then just as quickly fell silent. Try as he might, Marius could not remove the smile, laughter, and light from his face when he made his way downstairs. It earned him knowing looks from the servants, but why should he care? Why shouldn't he be happy?

Then, he entered the room and saw Monsieur Fauchelevent. Awkwardness overtook him, but it was still not enough to entirely mask his happiness. It was, however, enough to wipe any less-than-wholesome thoughts of Cosette from his mind.

It wasn't until this phrase that this fire- the fire of triumph, happiness, and infallibility- was smothered a little:

"I am an ex-convict."

With that, shock masked everything else.