Fic: Laws Made to Be Broken
New to the comm. Mad about Les Miserables, especially the 2012 movie. Hello!
Title: "Laws Made to Be Broken"
Author: HawkMoth:
Genre: Les Miserables (probably movie-verse)/Crossover (Oh, you'll figure it out!), Gen, Fix-it, AU
Characters: Inspector Javert/Not quite sure. See end notes.
Rating: G
Word Count: 430
Warnings: Mention of suicide
Possible spoilers for the upcoming season of a very old, very popular show.
Summary: Crack. Nobody dies.
The usual disclaimers apply. I have no idea if this has been attempted before.
I own nothing, except a fan writer's twisted imagination.
(c)HawkMoth, 3/9/13. No archiving, please! Comments appreciated.
(I'm supposed to be writing an entirely different sort of fix-it fic, and this popped into my head this morning. Go fig.)
******
"Laws Made to Be Broken"
by HawkMoth
******
Javert was ready. This was the end, it would only take one step.
Then the night was torn apart by a terrible noise, louder than the roar of the river below, followed by a wild wind that seemed to descend from Heaven itself. It drove Javert backwards instead of forward and he fell to the pavement of the bridge.
In his desperate, confused state, he could only imagine that God was sending him some sort of sign, perhaps an angel to hold him back from the brink. But as the sound mercifully faded and the wind stilled, he shook off such an idea. He got to his feet, steadying himself against the parapet, and cast around for the source of the disturbance.
Somewhere off in the shadows there was another sound, like the creaking of a door, and then Javert heard voices.
"Here we are, Paris! City of lights, city of intrigue. Had some exciting times here, on a few occasions." A man's voice, light and fast.
"Well, that's just lovely. I don't see many lights. Where exactly are we, and when?" That seemed to be a girl, or very young woman. She didn't sound pleased.
"Let's see...ah! June, 1832, sometime past midnight. Oh look! There's Notre Dame. We must be on the Pont du Change."
"And that means?'
"Well, that means...oh dear. This is bad, this is very bad. Not the best time to be here. A lot of history happening, and I think this bridge is a nexus point....Quick, back inside! We really don't want to take the blame if something changes here."
"But--Paris! Can't we just move somewhere else--hey!" There were sounds of a brief struggle. "Doctor! Wait--" She was cut off in mid-protest.
The bizarre conversation had finished the job of pulling Javert out of his state of despair, and now the girl's cry put him back in full procedural mode. He ran forward, calling out "Halt!"
Too late. The unearthly sound split the night open again, as the wind swirled around him. But he finally caught a glimpse of something--a steady flickering light and an astoundingly solid shape. Before he could move, both faded out of his sight, as the wail and the wind died away.
All that was left was the beckoning roar of the river. He hesitated only one moment, then turned away and stalked off the bridge, back ramrod straight, determination rekindled in his soul. The hell with Jean Valjean. There was a new mystery to be solved.
And so Javert lived, hunting a blue box across the rest of his years.
******
Notes: Really don't know where this came from. Anyway, it could be any Doctor and any companion, but it's most likely Eleven and Clara/Oswin. (I can totally imagine a snark fest between Clara and Javert!)
Title: "Laws Made to Be Broken"
Author: HawkMoth:
Genre: Les Miserables (probably movie-verse)/Crossover (Oh, you'll figure it out!), Gen, Fix-it, AU
Characters: Inspector Javert/Not quite sure. See end notes.
Rating: G
Word Count: 430
Warnings: Mention of suicide
Possible spoilers for the upcoming season of a very old, very popular show.
Summary: Crack. Nobody dies.
The usual disclaimers apply. I have no idea if this has been attempted before.
I own nothing, except a fan writer's twisted imagination.
(c)HawkMoth, 3/9/13. No archiving, please! Comments appreciated.
(I'm supposed to be writing an entirely different sort of fix-it fic, and this popped into my head this morning. Go fig.)
******
"Laws Made to Be Broken"
by HawkMoth
******
Javert was ready. This was the end, it would only take one step.
Then the night was torn apart by a terrible noise, louder than the roar of the river below, followed by a wild wind that seemed to descend from Heaven itself. It drove Javert backwards instead of forward and he fell to the pavement of the bridge.
In his desperate, confused state, he could only imagine that God was sending him some sort of sign, perhaps an angel to hold him back from the brink. But as the sound mercifully faded and the wind stilled, he shook off such an idea. He got to his feet, steadying himself against the parapet, and cast around for the source of the disturbance.
Somewhere off in the shadows there was another sound, like the creaking of a door, and then Javert heard voices.
"Here we are, Paris! City of lights, city of intrigue. Had some exciting times here, on a few occasions." A man's voice, light and fast.
"Well, that's just lovely. I don't see many lights. Where exactly are we, and when?" That seemed to be a girl, or very young woman. She didn't sound pleased.
"Let's see...ah! June, 1832, sometime past midnight. Oh look! There's Notre Dame. We must be on the Pont du Change."
"And that means?'
"Well, that means...oh dear. This is bad, this is very bad. Not the best time to be here. A lot of history happening, and I think this bridge is a nexus point....Quick, back inside! We really don't want to take the blame if something changes here."
"But--Paris! Can't we just move somewhere else--hey!" There were sounds of a brief struggle. "Doctor! Wait--" She was cut off in mid-protest.
The bizarre conversation had finished the job of pulling Javert out of his state of despair, and now the girl's cry put him back in full procedural mode. He ran forward, calling out "Halt!"
Too late. The unearthly sound split the night open again, as the wind swirled around him. But he finally caught a glimpse of something--a steady flickering light and an astoundingly solid shape. Before he could move, both faded out of his sight, as the wail and the wind died away.
All that was left was the beckoning roar of the river. He hesitated only one moment, then turned away and stalked off the bridge, back ramrod straight, determination rekindled in his soul. The hell with Jean Valjean. There was a new mystery to be solved.
And so Javert lived, hunting a blue box across the rest of his years.
******
Notes: Really don't know where this came from. Anyway, it could be any Doctor and any companion, but it's most likely Eleven and Clara/Oswin. (I can totally imagine a snark fest between Clara and Javert!)