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Courfeyrac glanced at his phone, frowning slightly when he saw who was calling. “Didn’t you and I see each other literally half an hour ago?”
On the other end of the phone, Combeferre sighed heavily. “I need you to call Marius,” he said shortly, with no greeting or explanation.
Courfeyrac leaned back in his chair. “Is there a reason you didn’t call Marius directly?” he asked mildly.
He could practically hear Combeferre’s scowl through the phone. “Because for some reason, he’s scared of me, and since we need his help, I figured it would nicer, or at least easier, coming from you.”
“That’s practically sweet of you,” Courfeyrac said, delighted. “So why do need Marius’s help?”
“We need a lawyer.”
Courfeyrac’s smile instantly disappeared, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, God,” he sighed. “What did Enjolras do now?”
Combeferre huffed a dry laugh. “Believe it or not, it’s not for Enjolras.”
Courfeyrac’s eyes narrowed. “What did Grantaire do now?”
“Just get Marius,” Combeferre said, conspicuously avoiding answering the question. “Have him meet me at the Area 6 police headquarters. I’ll explain there.”
“I’m fascinated to know why you won’t tell me,” Courfeyrac said cheerfully. “Maybe I’ll come with Marius.”
Combeferre sighed. “Do whatever you want to do,” he muttered. “Just get Marius.”
With that, he hung up, and Courfeyrac allowed himself a small smile as he dialed Marius. “Whatever this is, it’s bound to be good.”
Courfeyrac and Marius crossed the street to where Combeferre was waiting for them, his scowl deepening when he saw Courfeyrac. “Alright, Marius is here,” Courfeyrac said brightly. “So tell us what happened.”
“Grantaire got arrested,” Combeferre said dryly.
Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock,” he said impatiently. “I want the details.”
“We want the details,” Marius corrected mildly. “Namely, what exactly happened, and what charges, if any, he’s been detained on.”
Combeferre sighed before reporting, “Enjolras and Grantaire were coming home from dinner when they watched a cop accost a young gentleman, seemingly for no reason. Enjolras, of course, went to intervene, when the cop decided it would be a good idea to turn off his body camera and go after Enjolras instead. So Grantaire, seemingly in an attempt to buy Enjolras enough time to extricate himself from the scene—”
“Oh my God,” Courfeyrac interrupted, his eyes widening in realization. “Don’t tell me.”
Combeferre nodded grimly. “Yeah. Exactly.”
“What?” Marius asked, glancing between the two. “What did he do?”
“He’s been joking about doing this for years,” Courfeyrac said, looking strangely amused at the situation. “Do not tell me that he actually went through with it.”
Combeferre sighed again. “He definitely and unquestionably went through with it.”
“What did he do?” Marius repeated.
Courfeyrac looked like he was beginning to regret coming down to the station. “The Full Moon,” he said heavily.
Marius blinked. “The…what?”
“Grantaire mooned the cop.”
Marius let out a noise that might have been a very weak giggle, or else a small, horrified whimper. Or both. “He…what?”
Combeferre gave him a look. “He tugged down his pants to expose his buttocks,” he said sourly, “then turned and bent over to display said buttocks while allegedly shouting something to the effect of, ‘How’s this for moonshine, piggy.”
Marius choked on air. “Oh my God.”
Courfeyrac cleared his throat. “Well, the real question is, did it work?”
“Grantaire’s in custody, but Enjolras isn’t,” Combeferre said with a shrug. “So you tell me.”
It took Marius a long moment to get his face under control enough to ask, his voice slightly higher-pitched than usual, “What do they plan on charging him with?”
“Obstructing a police officer—” Combeferre started, and Marius nodded.
“Misdemeanor,” he said, more to himself than the others.
“—refusing to aid a police officer—”
“Petty offense.”
“—and the pièce de résistance, public indecency,” Combeferre finished.
Marius winced before asking, “Was it within 500 feet of a school?”
Courfeyrac stared at him. “What the fuck does that matter?”
Marius shrugged. “Changes it from a misdemeanor to a felony, mostly. Not that it matters, since a public indecency conviction, whether felony or misdemeanor, also carries a requirement to register as a sex offender.”
Courfeyrac blanched. “Well, shit.”
“Pretty much,” Combeferre said grimly. “As to the proximity to a school, I have no idea.”
Marius nodded, taking a deep breath. “Ok,” he said, staring off into the distance. “Ok. Ok. Ok.”
Combeferre arched an eyebrow at Courfeyrac. “Is he having a stroke?”
“Shh,” Courfeyrac scolded. “He’s thinking.
“Ok,” Marius said again, before straightening, his expression set. “Got it.”
“Care to share what, exactly, you’ve got?” Combeferre asked dryly.
“We’re going to make a plea offer,” Marius said, with no small amount of conviction. “Grantaire pleads guilty to the petty offense and no contest to the obstruction charge in exchange for 50 hours of community service. They’ll ask for 100, so we’ll probably settle on 75.”
Courfeyrac let out a low whistle. “That’s not bad,” he said bracingly.
“What about the public indecency charge?” Combeferre asked.
Marius waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, they’ll drop that.”
Combeferre and Courfeyrac exchanged glances. “Are you sure?” Combeferre asked, somewhat doubtfully. “They didn’t exactly seem in the mood to drop charges.”
“Don’t worry,” Marius said confidently. “I’ve got this.”
Combeferre and Courfeyrac watched him march up to the doors before Courfeyrac glanced at Combeferre, a small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Famous last words.”
The desk officer was reluctant to give Marius any information but eventually took Marius back to the interrogation room where Grantaire was apparently waiting. “My name is Marius Pontmercy,” Marius said in introduction to the two cops in the interrogation room. “I’m Mr. Grantaire’s attorney.”
“He didn’t call an attorney,” one of the officers said immediately.
Marius gave him a flat look. “Does that somehow negate his Fifth Amendment right to counsel?” he asked mildly, sitting down next to Grantaire, who was conspicuously avoiding looking at him. “You did Mirandize him, right?”
The officer looked offended. “Of course I—”
“Mr. Pontmercy,” the other interrupted sourly, “your client has been detained on a number of offenses, including one that could land him on the sex offender registry, so if you think you’re going to just walk in here and make some kind of deal—”
“Were you the arresting officer?” Marius interrupted.
The cop glowered at him. “Yes, I was.”
Marius nodded. “So you’re the one who allegedly saw my client’s buttocks,” he said, stepping forcefully on Grantaire’s foot under the table when he saw his shoulders shake with silent laughter.
“I’m the one the little prick mooned, yeah,” the officer said, even more sourly than before.
Marius leaned forward. “Tell me, Officer—”
“It’s Sergeant.”
“Oh, my apologies,” Marius said, saccharine sweet, before continuing, “Tell me, Sergeant, did the alleged sight of my client’s buttocks arouse you?”
Both cops gaped at him. “Excuse me?” the sergeant spluttered.
“Were you excited by seeing his rear end?” Marius pressed, stepping even harder on Grantaire’s foot. “Did you get a little stiff in your pants?”
“Are you fucking calling me a fa—”
“Sergeant,” the other officer interrupted sharply.
Marius held his hands up appeasingly. “I am doing no such thing,” he said innocently. “But Illinois statute requires for public indecency that the lewd exposure of the body be done for either the intent of sexual gratification of the person performing the act, or otherwise for arousal of the person witnessing it.” He glanced at Grantaire, who had somehow managed to arrange his expression into something appropriate for attending the funeral of a close family member. “Now, I’m certain my client will testify gladly that he experienced no such sexual gratification, which means that in order for you to charge him with public indecency, you would need to testify that you experienced arousal.”
He looked back at the sergeant, whose mouth was opening and closing like a fish. “So I repeat my question, Sergeant. Were you aroused by the sight of my client’s ass?”
Not even half an hour later, Marius and Grantaire walked out of the police station, Grantaire rubbing his wrists where they’d cuffed him. He glanced at Marius, not even trying to stop his smile this time. “Was any of that true?” he asked.
“What?” Marius asked tiredly.
“The thing about arousal?”
Marius shrugged. “It depends on how you read the statute,” he hedged. “There’s a comma that renders it almost intentionally vague.”
Grantaire shook his head slowly, his smile widening. “Did you just lie to a cop to get me off?”
“I’d be careful of using that expression in this case,” Marius said, a little sourly.
Grantaire just barked a laugh. “Marius fucking Pontmercy,” he said, with something like awe.
Marius blushed and rolled his eyes. “Just do me a favor,” he said. “Figure out a different way to distract an officer from arresting Enjolras next time.”
“You know I can’t promise that,” Grantaire said easily. “I mean, what would you do if it was Cosette?”
“Cosette would never—” Marius started loyally, though he broke off at the look Grantaire gave him. “Fine, then next time, at least try to run.”
Grantaire just grinned. “I can’t make any guarantees,” he said cheerfully.
Marius sighed heavily. “Yeah,” he said, severely regretting his choice of both profession and friends. “I sort of figured as much.”