Disclaimer: Oh dear, poor ol' Vicky is turning in his grave…

Cosette giggled, clasping onto Marius' overcoat. "Whatever did you mean about there being more blessings to come?" she murmured lovingly, caressing his cheek.

Marius' hand stopped her fingertips as he gently kissed the hand. "You'll see, my dearest love." He thrust open the door, scooping up the petite blonde as if she was weightless as air.

Cosette gasped as she viewed the prepared chamber. An oil lamp burned low, illuminating the dark chamber. Cosette glanced at the king-sized bed with burgundy drapery. She blushed, shielding her innocent eyes in Marius' neck.

"Hush," she said before he began his rambling. By tacit understanding, he set her down.

"I know what that is for," began the young Baroness. indicating the bed. "But Marius, my love, what of that?" She pointed towards the floor, where one long, wooden board was set up. Two thin and wide wooden planks lay on each side.

Marius' eyes bulged. "You mean you've never don't it before?" Even his innocent, untainted, pure Cosette must have. Everyone had done it! Why, Marius had done it countless times with his deceased amis—by Jove, he was barely ten years when his grandfather undertook the education in of young Marius in this respect. M. Gillenormand helped Marius to understand that it was more than just a game, a rustic fumble—that there was skill and a certain je-ne-sais-quoi that one needed to excel.

"Well, you did grow up in a convent," Marius grudgingly responded, after those musings. "But darling, surely with the Thénaidiers, you learned this pleasure and joy!"

Cosette was growing cross. "Nothing at the Thénaidiers was pleasant! Are you going to teach me this or not?"

Marius gripped her hand. "My darling, we will begin now, tonight. You are with the best there is."

"Tonight?" she exclaimed. "Surely, Marius, you are tired."

He held up his hand for silence. "I have been tired of waiting for this night to arrive. Cosette," he said urgently. "We have eternity to be together—let us begin now. I repeat," he added, smiling. "You are with the very best."

"The best?" snorted Cosette. "How can you say that?"

"Enjolras himself said I was the best he had ever been with," remarked Marius sharply, offended by the remark.

The name meant nothing to Cosette. She pouted. "Where shall we begin?"

Marius sighed. "I suppose we should get started on the floor."

"But this board…"

Marius shrugged. "We should get there eventually."

Sitting her down, Marius began to explain his plans. "Oh, said Cosette at the correct intervals. "Ah, " she added appreciatively as he concluded.

"Ready to begin?" asked Marius eagerly. It had been a long time since he had taken such a fresh beginner into his chambers.

Cosette nodded with determination. "Yes, let's do this. And Marius darling…go easy on me? I've never done this before."

Marius nodded tenderly and thrust the pole-like thing to her, filling it with his tokens.

"Oh, my!" gasped poor Cosette. "I cannot—form—one—coherent—word!"

"Don't worry," comforted Marius. "It gets less difficult with practice."

She made a final effort. "There," she exclaimed, pleased.

"Perfect," lauded Marius, rejoicing in her pleasure. "Ready to move it onto the board?"

Cosette's lip quivered with anxiety. "Oh, Marius, I don't know. It sounds hard."

"Don't worry, sweet angel," Marius giggled with anticipation. "I'll go first."

Glancing at his own structure and reviewing his means, Marius made a valiant first effort.

Cosette's eyes glimmered with appreciation and happiness. "Oh, Marius! How you've scored!"

"Darling, I think I've hit an all time high!"

"At least a thirty, my love!"

They continued on in this manner for some time. Finally, Marius let out a yelp. "Cosette! I think you've got it! Yes!

That's it!"

"Yes!" she shouted. Exhausted by her efforts, Cosette slumped forward. She sighed. "Marius, my energies have been spent. Are you ready to get to bed and off of this hard floor?"

Once more, Marius scooped her up. She sighed, content, as Marius blew out the light.

"To think," Marius murmured quietly. "She made it to practically 18 y ears without ever playing Scrabble."