LINKDING

<blockquote>Fauchelevent chats with Cosette and Valjean.</blockquote>

By chance, Fauchelevent and Javert meet at a tobacconist's. ➤ yes good

<blockquote>Spring has no single color in Paris.</blockquote>

<blockquote>When Marius Pontmercy is accused of attempted murder, it's up to Jean Valjean to prove the young man's innocence. To do so, however, he will have to confront his past as well as the man prosecuting the case, Javert.</blockquote>

<blockquote>The news from M-sur-M, where all the men are mysterious, all the women are virtuous (especially the ones who aren't) and all the domesticated rodents have complicated inner lives.</blockquote> ➤ or: Simplice keeps up a correspondence with Baptistine

<blockquote>One afternoon, Matthew announces that a strange new family has bought the Pritchett farm.</blockquote>

<blockquote>The wine had been Fauchelevent’s idea. Proof against the cold and better with company, Fauchelevent had said as he poured out two glasses, and Jean Valjean had acquiesced.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Fauchelevent looked down at Valjean, his eyes creasing with amusement. “You and love. ‘What kind of love does a midwinter tree need?’ I asked myself. I thought you were plumb out of your mind, skittering through the branches in the dead of winter."</blockquote>

<blockquote>It was quiet in the cemetery. The priest and his acolyte had left. The hearse and the bearers had driven away. The groundskeeper had not shown. Despite the work in front of him, Valjean was grateful for the solitude. For the last five years, he had worked side by side with old Fauchelevent: in the heat of the summer’s toil, in the quiet of the winter’s rest, in moments of laughter and in rare moments of disagreement. The prospect of working next to another, a stranger, on this task of all tasks, was unthinkable.</blockquote>

<blockquote>This fic contains Old Men and squirrels. ...nope, that's basically it. That's the fic. Old men and squirrels.</blockquote>

➤ in which Fauchelevent teaches Madeleine how to make covers for the melons for winter

<blockquote>The hovercraft had never really been in tip-top shape; no matter how many times he’d sent it in to get fixed, it still sputtered, coughed up smoke, and trailed pollution through the Mars dome. So perhaps, Fauchelevant thought in a delirious haze, this was its revenge for all the times he’d kicked it and yelled at it and wished it was a newer model. Or perhaps, as the gallant Captain Madeleine shouldered his way through the wreckage and grasped Fauchelevent by the wrist and waist, this was its way of saying you deserve something better in your life. </blockquote> ➤ three-sentence fic so the bit I quoted is the entirety of it. DON'T I WISH THERE WERE MORE THOUGH

<blockquote>It was a short walk from the tool closet to the room where the coffin was kept, but some superstition made Fauchelevent take the journey alone the first time.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Late one summer night, Father Madeleine and Father Fauchelevent share the season's first melon and a few words to go with it.</blockquote>