The year of 1828 opens with a bang, both literal and figurative.
Les Amis make their first meeting of the new year on January 1st, Kaylin working in the upstairs room of the Cafè Musain and Ariana at the bar downstairs.
"I'll bring up a pitcher of water," Kaylin informs the eight men, one woman, and one boy casually, brushing a flyaway piece of dark brown hair up into her bun. "Anyone else want anything?"
Gavroche grins from his spot surrounded by Courf, Joly, Bahorel, and Bosseut.
"Food!" He calls out jokingly, holding his cards for backgammon close to his chest to dissuade cheating.
Kaylin glares teasingly with her hands on her hips. "That doesn't help at all."
Ferre shrugs. "We can share three pies, I think."
Kaylin rolls her eyes lightly. "Close, but not close enough. Chicken, beef, or veggie? And I'm not giving you dessert for dinner so you can stop giving me those puppy-dog eyes."
"One of each!" Courf grins, patting Kaylin on the shoulder as she passes. "Thanks Kay."
"And one bottle of Madeira!" R chimes in, feet up on the table. "You're a doll," he says smarmily, voice mimicking one of the bourgeois gentleman perfectly.
"Right away, Monsieur," Kaylin jokes, remembering how she and R met.
"Enj, you have to drink something," she turns to her husband, who barely flicks his cerulean blue eyes up from the speech he's working on.
"I will," he brushes off, hand writing words with an ink-dipped quill so fast it's a miracle his hand doesn't cramp.
Kaylin looks at him skeptically. "Promise?"
"I promise."
Ferre mouths to Kay, "I'll help." She nods slightly, smiles, and leaves the room. "Enjy, did you just say that so she'd take it with a grain of salt and leave?"
Enjolras stays silent.
"Oh Christ," Courf mutters under his breath, playing a card and moving his peg on the backgammon board.
Gav rolls his eyes and looks pointedly at Enjy, who doesn't look up from his papers. "Honestly, that's probably one of the stupidest things I've ever heard."
Bahorel bites back a cough of laughter.
Joly nods his head feverishly. "Dehydration is a real threat, Enjolras. You aren't doing the revolution any favors if you keep working yourself into exhaustion."
"I'll be fine!" Enjolras insists.
AJ snorts. "I have never heard a more untruthful sentence in my entire life."
"Then you haven't listened to any of the king's speeches!" Enjy claps back, voice edging a little sharper.
"I have, Enj," AJ replies dryly, used to his quick temper. "I've also listened to your rants that go on for hours."
"I'm not giving your speech if you get sick, Enjy," Ferre declares, pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses lightly in exasperation.
Enjy rolls his eyes. "Good, because I'm not going to get sick!"
Nearly every single member of Les Amis purses their lips in disbelief, giving the blonde, curly-haired man a look reading, 'oh really?'
Kaylin nudges the door open with her hip, precariously balancing a pitcher of water, R's wine, and a tray filled with three pot pies and a loaf of bread.
