Enjolras walks into the garden, thinking of something that has nothing to do with spring or flowers or the lovely day.

Javert is here. Before the appointed time, even. He waits, watching from his static position everything and anything that happens to fall beneath his gaze.

Enjolras, though he is distracted by political matters, does notice Javert. He approaches, almost subtly, and when he is near, he says, "Bonjour."

Javert moves his head slightly, and nods with a hint of smile to Enjolras. "Bonjour." he repeats.

Enjolras shakes his head slightly, hoping that he will be able to concentrate on his companion. "How are you this evening?"

Javert shifts his position into something infinitesimally more casual. "Well enough, thank you. And how are you faring?"

Enjolras does not answer for a moment. "I have not been thinking about myself particularly much. Fine enough that I don't need to think about it. Healthy, I suppose. Just busy."

Javert does smile at that. "Your revolution keeping you up, nights?" not harshly or even sarcastically as perhaps before. Friendly, even?

"Oui." From anyone else, that might be ironic, but not from Enjolras when he has dark circles under his blue eyes. "It is difficult. How is the crime in the streets? Has it become worse?"

Javert shakes his head, "No... it merely seems that way." Doesn't add that it seems that way because most of the compentent officers have been assigned to positions investigating various insurgent groups.

Enjolras nods slightly. "That, at least, is reassuring." He puts a hand on Javert's shoulder. "You aren't overworked, then?"

Javert shakes his head mildly, "Not at all." perhaps many people would consider the Inspector overworked. Yelling at mindless gendarmes all day, in between meetings and consultations with investigators. Thankfully, Javert isn't one of those people.

Enjolras becomes slightly more distant, and draws his hand back. "Good." He looks away. "Do you want to walk?"

Javert shifts again briefly, turning a little, "All right." he agrees.

Enjolras sighs. "I would like this to be over."

Javert has an inkling, nonetheless questions shortly, "What's that?"

Enjolras waves a hand. His powers of rhetoric have been terribly overtaxed recently, forgive him. "This revolution. It's exhausting."

Javert ahs softly, "Agreed." Despite the fact that he is relatively sure that Enjolras will be killed: the investigations are taxing to the police, and the National Guard are becoming weary of waiting, while they could be out elsewhere, putting themselves to good use. And after the revolution is crushed, the 'people' will once again know their place.

Enjolras starts walking, slowly. "Perhaps it will all come to something, in the end. I certainly hope so."

Javert walks alongside, hanging a little behind and to one side to keep the appearance of decency. "You're not sure that it will?" he asks softly, curious.

Enjolras looks at the path instead of at his companion. "Almost sure. But is that enough? I'm sure some people will be hurt, even if it all finishes in a day and we are successful."

Javert would normally have been quite amused by the image of them being successful at all, much less in a day. But the counterpart to the discussion bars this by his nature. "You're worried what their losses will be for if you are not successful." he guesses.

Enjolras nods. "Of course. If I lead them to their deaths, what good will that do anyone?" He sighs, again. "I don't know if what I have done is right, or how I could stop everything if it is not."

Javert looks over shortly, "If they did not find the risks acceptable, would they be following you?"

The answer is bleak. "I don't know."

Javert straightens, "Perhaps," he suggests, "You ought to inform them of what you percieve the risks to be. Give those a chance to back out to whom there is not a real desire to fight?"

Enjolras considers this. "That sounds like a good idea, yes. If there is a chance, I shall offer that."

Javert comes a little closer as the park begins to empty slightly. He still maintains a bit of distance, but is close enough to let Marcelin know he's there, and glad to help ease his mind, so long as it does not conflict with his own duties.

Enjolras reaches out with one hand and takes one of Javert's. "What do you think of all of this? I know you do not agree with my ideas, but still, you must have some opinion."

Javert, since asked, gives his opinion, "I personally believe your attempt will fail." In fact he's almost certain of it, but he doesn't go into detail of the defences which have been already called to Paris. "I will also be relieved when it is over." He doesn't preach... Marcelin already knows his feelings on the subject.

"Perhaps it will work, though." He doesn't sound overly optimistic. "If it does, perhaps I can pardon you." He smiles, nearly teasing, though his eyes are still tired.

Javert nearly accepts the tease with a smile, but makes no other reply.

"It would be so lovely." Unlike this spring day, which doesn't matter, and the flowers, which don't matter, and time spent with a dear friend, which doesn't matter. "Someday." He looks over at Javert. "Will you forgive me? Not the law, no, I know that it cannot, but you."

Javert turns his face briefly stony, then turns his eyes to Marcelin almost softly, "You and I are of like minds. I can understand you, more than I can understand anyone else. Understand... but not, by nature, forgive."

Enjolras nearly looks sorry. "I see." He takes a deep breath. "And you would not want to be pardoned, then?"

Javert determinedly states, "No."

"I see." Enjolras frowns, but is not overly surprised. He does know Javert almost well, but it still hurts to hear that he is so absolutely rejected. "Are you sure that is wise?"

Javert quirks an eyebrow, "It is right."

Enjolras stops walking. "Of course." He keeps hold of Javert's hand, though his voice is flat, and his shoulders sag. He shows no enthusiasm for anything, at this point. "You believe that you are right." A bit of confidence comes back into his voice, and his head comes up. "I believe that I am right."

Javert holds the hand and squeezes it a little, trying to be of something akin to comfort. "Yes." he agrees.

Enjolras spreads his arms and moves to embrace Javert. "All we have is our faith, then, and that tears us apart."

Javert sighs softly as he redoubles the embrace. "Yet you're the only other I know who knows what faith is."

Enjolras sighs deeply. "I suppose so. I mean, I doubt the ability of the world to change as quickly as I need it to change, but I do not doubt my ideals. The city may not be ready, but if it is, it will be Utopia, soon." He lets go, slowly, almost reluctantly.

Javert lets go as he does. It does sound a nice dream, but only a dream. Society needs proper authority to divide the upright citizens and the wrongdoers. But he doesn't say any of that, he just remains facing Marcelin.

Enjolras looks at his companion. His confidence is almost back to normal. "Yes. You disagree with me. I know." He leans forward to kiss Javert's cheek. "That's as it should be."

Javert nods briefly, and accepts the kiss. "It is." he agrees, "But perhaps, for now... it's best I don't bring it up."

Enjolras looks away, briefly embarrassed. "And I should follow your example, you mean." He glances back, his head tilted downward, but looking up at Javert. "I'm sorry. I should remember that you, of all people, have no patience for my ideals."

Javert smiles softly, in a brief and rare moment of compassion, "I didn't mean that at all. I'm sure you've been under a lot of stress recently, and I'm glad to be here to help you, give you a sounding board, a shoulder, or whatnot, without me preaching my own beliefs to contradict you. I'm sure if our situations were reversed, I could talk to you about my beliefs with the same results."