A/N- Bienvenue, readers old and new! Welcome to the angst-ridden, tragic, depressing continuation of my little trilogy, Words of Love. Just for no particular reason, I'm going to throw in a brief summary of the saga thus far. In the original, Nina, an actress in Les Mis, thought she loved a handsome chap called Scott, but in the end realized that Mark was a better guy than he was. Scott, however, randomly decided that he liked Nina and dumped his own girlfriend, Danielle, ruining her life. Scott is then daily traumatized by Nina and Mark's cutsie perfect relationship and gets drunk and rapes Nina. Good choice, right? No. He wakes up, realizes what he's done, has some random bad childhood flashbacks, and loses his mind. Nina ends up finding out she's pregnant with Scott's kid and tries to dump Mark over it, but he ends up proposing to her. Scott jumps off a bridge and dies. You already knew that, but I thought I'd tell it once more because it's so much fun and because I'm putting off typing the first chapter of the threquel because I haven't finished writing it in my purple notebook of fanfiction. -takes a deep breath- Hyper? Yes, I am. Anyway... praise for the plot of "In Your Embrace At Last":

"That sounds good! I think it's the best one yet." –Pink Velvet, the wonderful plot artist of the sequel

"Hahahahahaha! Wait... who died?" –Janet, my life-long best friend who really does love me, I'm sure

"I don't have time to read it! I've got so much to do at school and I've got a whole new batch of kids this year and..." –My mother, who still doesn't know who Mark is

And another brief word or two: in the last chapter of the sequel I didn't quite make it clear who was who – the bearded guy was John. Not like a super Amish beard, just one of those Valjean goatee things. Also, every other chapter in this fic is a flashback, just to let you know. It shouldn't be too confusing. Hopefully.

And then I begin...

Jehan glared at himself in the dressing room mirror.

It wasn't that he was a bad-looking guy – nothing could be further from the truth. He ran a comb through his sandy brown hair and frowned at it.

It just didn't add up.

By the time a guy is fifteen, Jehan thought, he should at least be able to tell that he belongs to his parents.

He leaned closer to the glass.

Nothing had changed, of course. Those same dark brown eyes, the same sandy hair... If he stared for a long time he could see traces of his mother... But there was nothing from his dad.

Both of his parents had blue eyes and dark hair – his mother's was brown and his father's was black. No one in his family had brown eyes or light hair. No one at all.

This hadn't really bothered Jehan as he was growing up, but now that he was older he began to notice. All kinds of crazy thoughts had crossed his mind. When he was thirteen he had believed that John, the family best friend and sitter, was his real father. But John had to be at least ten years older than his parents: somewhere in his forties. And he was much closer to Jehan's father than his mother.

Jehan had once reached the conclusion that he was adopted. He knew his mother had trouble having healthy children – two newborn siblings of his were buried behind the church. But every time this thought crossed his mind he again noticed that he had some of his mother's features...

What else could he believe?

Someone knocked on the dressing room door, jolting him out of his thoughts. "Jehan?"

It was Amy.

Jehan immediately found color rising to his cheeks, and he had to clear his throat several times before he could respond. "Yeah?"

"Can I... talk to you?"

"Sure, just let me finish getting out of these Jewish clothes... I mean... hold on a sec." He yanked on his jeans and buttoned them quickly, smoothing down one last stray lock of hair before he opened the door.

Amy had already changed out of her villager costume. "Jehan, about the dream scene... I get all tangled in the cobwebs and have to get them off in about three seconds flat. I was wondering... could you kinda... help me... tomorrow? I mean..." she began to explain all at once, "just that well I noticed you weren't in the scene and I thought that maybe since I had to get back onstage so fast without the spiderwebs so that we can do that mini-rumor scene about Tzeitel marrying Motel instead of Lazar and-"

"Sure," Jehan said smoothly. He put a hand up to lean against the doorframe but missed, catching himself and regaining his posture in the split second that Amy looked down at her tennis shoes.

"Well? Aren't you coming to wait for your parents at the stage door?"

"Sure," he repeated, nodding a little too enthusiastically. She smiled at him, and he added, "Just one second," before ducking back into the dressing room. Again he looked at himself in the mirror. Should I ask her now? Today? Nothing in my teeth... that's good. Yeah, I'm gonna do it. I'll ask her. I'll ask Amy to supper.

His decision made, Jehan left the theater.

Amy was standing by the door, watching the others sign autographs and go home. She didn't turn her head when Jehan joined her. "I get my permit soon."

"I've got mine... My parents just won't buy me a car. Mom says we don't have enough money because... something about Paris. And then she and Dad start laughing and reminiscing and annoying the general populace."

"Aw... that's so sweet," Amy said, smiling at him again. "My parents are divorced."

"Mine act like they just started going out yesterday."

"Why don't you have enough money?"

Jehan realized what he'd said and felt his cheeks burning. "It's... it's not that we're poor or anything, just that they let me keep my salary from this show and Mom hasn't worked since I was born, so we all live off of Dad's pay from Joseph."

"Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat? I love that show! Who does your dad play?"

"He just joined, so he's still an understudy."

"Oh. So your parents are actors too? What shows have they been in?"

"Well... they met while they were in Les Misérables, which my mom dropped out of after she married Dad. He stayed with there for a few years, and... and... Amy? I have a... a question."

"Yeah?"

"D'you..." he took a deep breath to steady his nerves, "wanna... wanna go out to eat with me? For supper? Or did you eat between shows?"

She grinned. "I didn't, and I'd love to."

"Really? You'd love to?"

"Yeah. There's my mom. I'll go ask her, okay?"

"Great... wonderful!" Jehan answered, watching her leave.

It was at this moment that his parents arrived.

"Jehan!" Nina called. "How'd you do?"

"Fine, I did fine. Mom, listen, I-"

"There he is! Best villager in Anatevka!" Mark said upon joining them.

"Sure. Dad, Mom, listen-"

"So, did you do anything interesting?"

"Um... No, Mom, I just wandered around and sang, like I do every night. But I'm going out to eat with Amy, if-"

"You have a date! Oh, Mark, he met her in a show, just like us!"

Mark smiled and took her hand. "Do you remember when-"

"Oh, that is it!" Jehan shouted. "Just stop it! I'm trying to tell you I have a date, and all you can talk about is your stupid love life!"

"Jehan-"

"Shut up, Dad! Just listen to me for once, and don't think about yourself!"

"Don't you dare speak to your father that way!"

"I don't speak to my father that way! I don't even know who my father is!"

Silence fell in the group. Nina paled and Mark put and arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. "He doesn't know what he's talking about, Nina... Don't-"

"I know exactly what I'm talking about! I just don't know why the hell you keep lying to me!"

"Jehan!" Mark nearly shouted. He glanced nervously around at the people nearby, but no one had heard the conversation.

"I'm going to the café on the corner," Jehan said stiffly. "You aren't my father, so stop trying to be!" He hurried over to Amy who nodded cheerfully, waved at Mark and Nina, and followed him down the street.

Mark watched the two leave, then looked down at Nina. Her hand had gone to her stomach – something he hadn't seen her do since she was pregnant with Jehan. "Nina? Come on, we're going back to the car."

He closed the passenger door after her, went around, and slid into the driver's seat. Neither said anything for a few moments. Mark was staring at the windshield, and Nina had covered her face in her hands. Another moment passed. Mark broke the stillness by running a hand through his hair. "The nerve of that boy!"

"He knows..." Nina whispered, lowering her hands to clutch at her stomach again. "Dear God, how does he know?"

Mark leaned over and pulled her arms toward him, taking her hands in his. "He was bound to notice sometime, Nina. I mean, look at me! Look at him! Look at him, Nina. He's-"

His cell phone rang, and he held it up. "That'll be him. I can't... I don't want to speak with him right now. Can you?"

She took a deep breath and nodded. Mark pressed the phone into her free hand and she answered it.

"Mom? Mom... I didn't mean to... to... well..."

"What do you want, Jehan?"

"Somebody come pick me up in about an hour, okay?"

Nina didn't answer, and Mark raised his eyebrows.

"Mom? Can you come?"

"I'll pick him up," Mark whispered.

"Your father will," she answered firmly.

"But Mom!"

"In an hour."

"Mom!"

"And we'll have to talk to you when you get home. Enjoy your first date, Jehan. It might be your last."

"Mom!"

She turned off the phone, and Mark grinned slightly. "Well handled."

"Thanks," Nina answered, smiling shakily.

"D'you think he got talking like that from television?"

"I don't know... Maybe he got it from Danielle."

"Danielle?"

"Don't tell me you don't remember the five year cast reunion."

"Oh," Mark groaned. "Don't we have another one of those coming up?"

"We'll ask John when we get home, okay? He shoulda put our kid to sleep by now."

"One can only hope," Mark smiled.

He started up the car.