For anyone who is under any false assumptions I do not and have never held any rights to this movie, book or franchise, I wish I did but sadly I don't, just the odd OC or two. I make no money off of this work, it is quite literally my insane imagination running wild so enjoy and try not to take anything I write too seriously.

This fanfic is also my first one so please be nice and review if you can and remember I'm not making you read this so if you don't like anything you don't have to continue reading.

Chapter 1:

It was D'Artagnan's 19th Birthday and The Three Musketeers had decided to celebrate, taking him out for a drink or two… well more like nine or ten as it turned out. It was getting quite late and they were all somewhat jubilant and drunk, laughing at anything and everything that caught their fancy. Empty bottles of wine were strewn across the floor and table tops of the corner table which the four had occupied since the early hours of the afternoon in the old inn which they regularly frequented. Dirty looks had been thrown at them from various other patrons and Pierre, the inn keeper, all night for their boisterous attitude, several times they had been told to quiet down by one of the serving maids who was then proceeded to be reprimanded by the innkeeper. Pierre wished that the four men would either quiet down or leave, but wanted them there for as extended amount of time as possible, so long as they paid their bill and didn't vomit on the floor. The rest of the clientele were slowly leaving the four in the corner to their merrymaking seeing as how they couldn't get them to shut up, the remaining had now resigned to either ignoring them or to leave for their much wanted beds, deciding it was a lost cause.

"More wine!" D'Artagnan exclaimed lifting his half empty cup into the air.

Porthos rose form the table to buy the next round, much to everyone's relief; he always seemed to be absent when it was his round. As he stood, Porthos smacked his forehead with more force he intended, unbalancing himself and sending his large body tripping over his now unoccupied seat and onto the floor with a loud thud.

As Athos, Aramis and D'Artagnan roared with laughter Porthos managed to get out;

"Don't have a purse", which most defiantly stopped all laughter at the table.

"Now see here Porthos" Athos said slurring quite a bit, "We've been lettin' you get ov o' gettin' drinks all night. Is yer tern now."

"But I don't got one" Porthos said from his position on the ground.

D'Artagnan and Aramis had been sitting at the table giggling (in a manly way of course) at the antics of the two, but it was time D'Artagnan decided it was his turn to speak up.

"How could you have possibly forgotten' your purse big guy?" He said with a lopsided grin.

"Was robbed" said Porthos pouting like a child, crossing his arms over his chest, still seated on the floor.

Athos choked on his wine.

"Ye were what?" Aramis asked in shock.

"I was bloody robbed is what happened all right" Porthos said finally getting up off of the ground but stayed standing, not trusting the tipped chair in his drunken state, searching among the empty bottles trying to combine the last drops in each into a single bottle.

"How?" Athos spluttered.

"Yes, how would someone get a leg over on the great Porthos I wonder" Aramis laughed and almost fell off his chair himself. "The girl probably got him while he was sleeping it off".

"No some chit didn' get to me, kid ran up, bumped into me and quick as could be was off again, didn't know what happened" Porthos tried to explain waving his arms around for emphasis, two bottles clutched in one hand and a half full in the other, spilling some in the process.

"'scuse me?" Athos asked.

"Yeah, was kinda like you" he said pointing at D'Artagnan.

"Me?" D'Artagnan pointed at himself as well placing his new boot-clad feet on the table between them.

"Yeah 'sept I couldn't catch him"

"Strange" Athos said looking into his half-full cup of wine, "I had a similar experience yesterday"

"Some kid stole your money too? It's a disgrace kids stealing, should be workin'." Porthos was working himself into a state, whilst conveniently forgetting all the misdeeds of stealing and law breaking he had done in his time. He even stomped one of his large boot clad feet to Aramis' glee.

"No, no, no. Some street rat bumped int' me and spilled wine all over my pants, were my favourite pants too." Athos said the last part into his cup but D'Artagnan still heard from his seat next to him and snorted loudly, gaining a glare from Athos.

"Well someone completely disregarded one of my citations yesterday morning, they discarded it, choosing to relinquish it to the rear of my cranium when my posterior was turned, then proceeded to ride off before I could formulate a coherent sentence" Aramis said, a look of confusion on his face at why someone would do such a thing.

Well I think I would like this person D'Artagnan thought to himself but out loud he said; "A 'citation'?"

"It's a ticket fool, same as the one I gave you" Aramis stated.

"And 'formulatin' a coherent…'"

"He had the ticket thrown at the back of his head when he had his back to turned and they left before he could get a word in" Athos explained.

"Oh… and these people all got away from the great Three Musketeers?" D'Artagnan said laughing.

Athos reached over and tipped up D'Artagnan's chair so that he fell backwards, sprawling across the ground. The Three Musketeers roared with laughter once more.

"I think we're all havin' an off week" Porthos choked through his laughter.

D'Artagnan went to say something from his position on the floor but then the distinct ringing sound of steel on steel reached their ears. The four looked around the inn to find that they were the last patrons and the innkeeper had disappeared.

"What's that?" D'Artagnan asked the empty room.

"May as well have a look" Athos replied rising from his chair and walking to the front entrance, the others trailing behind to investigate.


As they entered the courtyard Aramis drunkenly tripped over an unconscious body of a guardsman and bashed into the broad back of Porthos, squishing his nose, making him bounce back and fall on his behind. Porthos took no notice of this, neither did Athos or D'Artagnan, their eyes were fixed on the source of the clanging steel. Rubbing his nose Aramis got to his feet, swaying slightly, just for his mouth to drop open at the sight before him; there was the kid that had thrown the citation at the back of his head! Or at least he thought it was, the child's hat and height were consistent, and yes that was the black beast from hell which had tried to bite him tied up at the fence.

Yeah that's defiantly him, Aramis thought.

Aramis' eyes were drawn back to the fray and he realised that there was another lifeless body on the ground by the gate. Peering around Porthos he saw the little thing fighting and his drink muddled brain stopped.

On the other hand, all Porthos could think on was; no upper body strength, legs like a girl, would look good on a girl though, wouldn't mind them wrapped around me if it was a girl.

Athos' musings were more along the lines of; I must have drunk too much 'cause the boy looks like he's dancing with that guard, not choppin' him up, need more practice on thrusting and targeting vital organs with punctures, kids not taking the opportunities he's given, owes me a pair of pants too.

D'Artagnan just stood there with a slight frown on his face while he tried to concentrate; I've seen those moves before… I know I have.

Aramis registering what was happening saw the child's grace, speed and also the fact that the kid seemed to be aware of the openings it was given, but chose to incapacitate its opponent rather than kill. The feeling of respect for the little creature welled inside of him at these actions, much to his disbelief.

All four just stood and stared as the small kid went toe to toe with the trained city guard, who was at least a head and a half taller than itself, parrying and feigning until an opening was created but refusing to take the opportunity to thrust the tip of the rusted sword into the guards side, instead going for the shoulders and arms until the guard became too exhausted and began making more and more mistakes.

"Kid has stamina" Porthos grunted breaking the semi-silence.

"Huh" the others grunted back in agreement.

The two continued their dance of death, the kid continuing to ware down the more experienced opponent. The guard, growing desperate, threw a wild swing at the kid's head which was ducked under, but the guard still managed to knock off his hat, sending it tumbling to the dusty ground, releasing a cascade of curly brown hair down the kids back all the way to its waist. The guard froze at this new development, the kid took the opportunity to throw a quick kick to the mans groin, dropping him to his knees, before sending a swift jab with a closed fist to his nose followed by slamming the hilt of its sword down on the top of the guards head, knocking him out cold. The four continued to stand there gaping as the kid bent down to grab her hat, twisting the hair to the side and over her shoulder revealing her pale features in the light of the full moon.

Is a girl, damn, if her tits look half as good as her legs, mind would have to look out for weapons, shit how old is she, cant be more'n fifteen, get me in trouble that one, Sucrebleu she would get a man in trouble, be almost worth it though if she didn't kill you herself…Porthos' thoughts continued to go round in circles

Almost looks familiar, Athos' mind was slowly working through his drunken thoughts trying the come to the conclusion which continued to evade him.

Beautiful, was all Aramis could think while watching the youthful woman in front of him brush dirt off her hat, absolutely magnifique but she would never want me, if only…

And it finally clicked in D'Artagnan's fogged mind why the victorious adolescent in front of him was so familiar.

"Poppy?"