"Le Petit Révolutionnaire"

It was seven years since the last Les Amis de l'ABC meeting and yet barely anything seems to have changed: Prouvaire was still composing poetry, quickly scribbling to ensure that not a single word would slip from his mind. Joly still fussed over this or that medical matter, Combeferre sat reading a new philosophy book… even Marius was present, grinning at his phone, no doubt texting Cosette. The most notable change however was in Grantaire who, instead of beer was drinking a can of ginger ale.

Almost the entire Les Amis was present. All but their leader. It was so unlike him to run late, Enjolras was usually the first to the Musain for a meeting. Then again, it had been seven years since the group had last met at the café. Since then, most of the group had moved to different places. Only Combeferre and Enjolras remained in Paris. The former was reading when his phone beeped.

Combeferre picked up the object, reading the short message from Enjolras and typing an equally short reply before raising his voice to be heard over all the chatter. "He's just around the corner!" a chorus of cheers met his words. If there was one thing the group was curious about, it was their leader. They were all surprised when Enjolras and Éponine started going out, and even more so when the two settled down.

At that moment, the door to the backroom flew open to reveal none other than Enjolras. 'Sorry we're late" he said, walking to an empty table towards the back and dropping two bags atop it: one was a heavy gym bag, no doubt filled with books and things related to the Cause. The second was a small backpack in the colors of the French flag. There was audible snickering at the sight of this. The bag could not have belonged to Enjolras – no, it was too small. Éponine wasn't the type for those things either, which left only one other possibility. Now where was the boy?

Combeferre chuckled to himself, amused by the almost childlike excitement that showed on each of his friends' features at this realization that they would all finally be meeting their leader's four-year-old son, Émile. He, Grantaire and Jehan had been the only ones to have previously met the boy. Being Émile's godfather, Combeferre shared a close bond with him. He was very much like his father, already madly patriotic at such a young age to Éponine's amusement and annoyance, after all she lived in a household where almost every conversation revolved around the country.

Enjolras scanned his surroundings. He could've sworn his son had been following behind. Now where was he…? A small shadow by the door caught his eye. So that's where Émile had gone! Smirking, he walked over to the boy's hiding spot "Wouldn't you like to come in? Everyone's excited to meet you" he said, crouching down to Émile's level, ruffling his blond curls fondly.

"Papa, I'm kind of..." Enjolras could see an inner battle reflected in those chocolate-brown eyes. His pride was certainly something that his son had inherited, always grappling with admitting how he really feels.

"Nervous?" the boy nodded. "Don't be. They'll love you" he reassured

"But-"

"Here" Enjolras crouched low enough for Émile to climb onto his shoulders. "You have the flag?" Trick question. Émile pulled a rectangular piece of cloth from his pocket, dangling it close to his father's face. "Terrible question, Papa. If there's one thing I always have, it's the flag"

"Right then, hold on!" Enjolras walked back a few paces before running into the room, he boy securely seated on his shoulders waving a two-sided flag.

"Who's there?!" called Combeferre, rising to his feet holding up an imaginary rifle. The rest of the Amis followed suit. After a dramatic pause, Émile yelled with as much power as he could muster. "FRENCH REVOLUTION!" The room's occupant burst into guffaws of laughter at this, some had even fallen onto the floor without noticing it.

The first to recover from the fits of laughter was Gavroche. He walked over to where Émile stood atop a table, placing an arm around the nephew who was more like a brother to him. Gavroche picked up a book, slapping it sharply at the table thrice. They now had everyone's full attention. "Wasn't there something you wanted to show your uncles?" he said to Émile. Remembering his original purpose for tagging along, the boy opened the small backpack, carefully pulling out each of the books within.

Grantaire picked up a book titled Egalité de la people turning it over, he looked to the owner "Permets-tu, petit Monsieur?"

"Oui, Uncle…?"

"Grantaire" he flipped open to the cover page, chuckling slightly. It had the book's title decorated more comically than on the front, with tiny people dressed in nineteenth century garb peeking around the letters. And by the bottom of the page were the words written by: Sébastien-Antoine Enjolras

The Amis gathered around Émile, all eager to know more about him. Within an hour, all of the books had been passed around and everyone was now questioning both he and Enjolras (though there were none, if any at all questions for the latter) about anything and everything they could think of. Once all the excitement died down somewhat, Enjolras began to speak.

"We are no longer schoolboys playing with the idea of equality, we are now in a stage where everything is falling into place and all we've worked for have finally paid off. But I tell you differently. Do any of you remember late nights in this very room making pamphlets and speeches, and holding protests?" He met the gaze of each of his friends. Something like this they had probably expected. "The time for that is done! Now we have more to fight for, and even more to lose. Will we continue the Cause?" A chorus of yeses rang out along with waved fists. "We have to do things differently now. No more protests, no more violence involved. Instead we will use these to get the message across" Enjolras waved one of the books in the air for emphasis, motioning for Émile to continue the speech for him.

"You read the books. Remember the stories in there? Papa simplified ideals of the great Revolution and the philosophes. They're written for kids like me to read so they can know what we fight for!" There was a passion in Émile's eyes, a fierce determination in his small voice. He was truly a small revolutionary. "And you know why kids are supposed to read it?" he continued "'Cause we're the next generation. We're the next Revolution!"

Enjolras hoisted the boy onto his shoulders, and addressing his friends "So? What do you say?" he asked holding a hand out. Silently the Amis gathered around their leader pacing their hands one atop the other. Finally, little Émile placed his hand atop the rest, holding up his flag with the other "Vive la France!" he yelled

"Vive le petit Revolutionnaire!" called out Grantaire

Slam! The Amis turned in time to see Éponine walk into the room, eyes narrowing at the sight of them all. Her gaze darted back and forth between her husband and son. "What do you two have to say for yourselves?" she questioned. Émile merely continued to wave the rectangular piece of cloth, looking at his mother seriously and saying:

"Vive la Revolution!"

A/N: I've seen fics where Enjy go mushy marshmallow on a daughter, but never one with a mini-Enjy involved so yeah, hope y'all liked it.

I'm contemplating whether or not to make this a collection of one-shots, depends on my mood I guess.

Anyways, thanks for reading and tell me what you think over in the review box!

-NK