First off, if it's not obvious, this fic is based off of Disney's "Mickey, Donald, and Goofy: The Three Musketeers". It started as a much shorter parody with just the Beagle Boys starring as Minnie's bodyguards, but it kind of evolved into something longer and with a bit more serious tone than that. There wasn't going to be any romance at all, but a few people suggested it, and I couldn't pass up giving those cute boys some love.

I did what I could with the little characterization we see of these three in the movie and hopefully, I did an alright job filling in the blanks. I tried to mirror many parts of the original, but hopefully still kept it new.

Writing a romance that takes place in the course of one day isn't an easy thing to do, so please don't take this fic too seriously, as it was all for fun! Enjoy!


Today, I will tell you a familiar story, one with some familiar faces. "The Three Musketeers"! Ahem…well, some version of it, at least. And, you will see, how even the smallest change of events can change the course of an entire lifetime!

Our story begins in the gutter, in the dirty alleyways of Paris. Bertrand and Basil, twin brother beagles, had escaped from their hometown of London when they got in over their heads back home, and had fled to France. Almost indistinguishable, the two were tall and lean, with striking yellow eyes behind black domino masks.

Bertrand, however, was the older and more sensible of the two, as well as the more intellectual. He was naturally curious, and dreamt of traveling Europe someday to see the many wonders that it held. A little bit reserved around strangers, Bertrand could sometimes come off as shy, but he was just simply perceptive and taking things in. He in fact had a great sense of humor and would often be the first to crack a joke.

Basil, the younger, was extroverted and impetuous, and a little rough around the edges. He had a strong sense of pride, and a penchant for bragging and pulling stunts for attention. Of the brothers, he tended to take the lead on most expeditions. While he wasn't particularly clever, he was streetsmart. Living his days scorned by the masses, Basil dreamt of a day when he would finally get the respect he felt he deserved.

It was in Paris that they met up with their younger cousin, Bonaparte. But to them, he'd always just be "Shorty". This was no doubt because of Bonaparte's diminutive stature, but for what he lacked in height, he made up in personality. Speaking with a heavy French accent, he was something of a lady's man and a goof. He was a bit eccentric, with an upbeat, sunny attitude whenever he wasn't spacing out. For some time, Bonaparte had trouble telling the twins apart, but as time went on, he grew to know them like brothers. More than anything, Bonaparte just longed to find someone who could love him for who he was.

Not long before, he had worked the streets with others from the French side of the family…but they had been captured and imprisoned by the Royal Musketeers. Like his cousins, he had yellow eyes and always wore a dark mask.

The three teenage boys were browsing the early morning streets of Paris, sliding through the hustle and bustle. This was their usual morning routine; scoping out the marketplace for unsuspecting victims to pickpocket.

On this day, the trio noticed a group of young children struggling in an alley, and out of boredom, began to hassle them.

Zut alors! It looks like our three heroes… are actually bad guys!

What they had not expected was to be beaten within inches of their life by the Royal Musketeers! Terrified, the mischievous boys fled, to harbor a hatred for those guardians of justice for much of their lives.

Little did they know, ten years later, they would cross paths with the force of the Royal Musketeers once again.

Basil, Bertrand, and Bonaparte were struggling just to make it by. In the past few years, the police of Paris had been more than doubled, and it made crime extremely difficult. The boys were forced to lie low, making a hideout of discarded coats and jackets beneath a bridge. But the very worst of it all were the Musketeers. With every prime spot for filching something under constant guard, it was making their lives miserable.

"Pfff. Stupid musketeers. I hate 'em!" Basil fumed. The memory of ten years ago still stung. "And that big fat git, the captain, is the nastiest of the lot!"

The three boys hung in the spidery branches of the trees overlooking one of the aristocratic manors. The night was cloudy and mild, perfect for sneaking about on the rooftops, and helping themselves to some jewelry. Just maybe, tonight, they'd get lucky and make a score on the home they'd been scoping out. "You sure this is his house, Bert?"

"Double, triple checked," Bertrand gave his brother a thumbs up. "And cause he's got that silly recruit trainin' to do, this'll be easy-peasy!"

"Pfff. Stupid musketeers. I hate 'em!" Basil fumed. The memory of ten years ago still stung for all three of them.

Bonaparte edged as far as he could out on the shaking limb and reached out to the lattice window a few feet beyond. "Ahahaa. I can't quite get it. Je suis désolé!"

Basil rolled his eyes. "Shorty, haven't I told ya French words make me mad?"

"Well then, why you come to France?" Bonaparte ribbed, knowing that arguing with his cousin was like talking to a brick wall.

Basil just scowled and pushed past him, and with Bertrand, the two pushed against the glass of the window with all their weight…

Slam! The window suddenly fell wide open and the two brothers fell face first onto the hard floor of a dark room.

"Ow….look what you did!" hissed Basil, looking around and trying to gather himself.

"Look what you did!" Bertrand hissed back. Behind them, Bonaparte managed to jump and clamber through the window and join them.

"Is this da place?" he asked, stepping clumsily over their sprawled bodies.

"Oh, hoh, hoh, this is the place alright!" A deep, menacing voice responded out of the darkness, causing the three beagles to jump. Suddenly, the room was filled with bright light, momentarily blinding them- and a large, peg-legged figure hobbled towards them.

"Captain Pete!" the three cried out in unison.

"Ahahaha." Pete towered over them with a smirk playing on his lips. "Ya know, I was expectin' you mutts at some point or another!-" Basil cast an accusatory glance at his brother- "Did ya really think I wouldn't have noticed you three goons tailin' me for the past coupla days? Bwahaha!" He laughed obnoxiously and his belly shook like gelatin.

Bonaparte took a few steps back, eyes darting to the window, while his brothers cautiously rose to their feet. They'd have to make a quick and seamless getaway.

Pete noticed them backing up to make their escape. He chortled and put his hands on his hips. "Now, now, where are your manners? 'Afore you mutts run off with your tails 'tween your legs, you could at least listen to this little proposition I gots for ya!"

The boys exchanged nervous glances. This was almost certainly a trap.

"Uh, what kind of propo-?" Bonaparte started slowly, but Basil cut him off.

"Don't listen to him, Shorty. Buggers like him ain't the company we keep!" He crossed his arms and glared defiantly at Pete.

"Yeah, well why dontcha look in a mirror!" Pete shot back, his countenance darkening with rage.

Bertrand brought his hand nervously to his mouth, looking between the two anxiously. "Uh, what he's means is-"

Pete ignored him, and then with a clear of his throat he regained his composure. "Yeah, well. You could either work against me, and I blow the whistle on you boys bein' here so you're locked up in no time." The boys looked at each other worriedly. "Orrr….you could go on doing what you do best, and help me out with a little….pest problem."

"And for that, you won't blab anythin'?" Bertrand asked, confused. This wasn't how they'd expected the royal captain of the musketeers to be at all…!

The grin on his face widened. "My lips are sealed. Do we have a deal?"

The boys all exchanged a last glance and then nodded. But they had no idea what they were getting into.

"I want you chowderheads to eliminate the Princess!"

"Wha-?!" Bonaparte, Basil, and Bertrand stopped in their tracks, walking into each other comically and looking at Pete with openmouthed shock. The four were descending a dark spiral staircase deep into the dungeon-like vault of the Musketeers Academy.

"'Ey, look, we're criminals, yeh, but we've never offed anyone!" Bertrand gestured wildly.

"Well, this seems like the perfect time to add some skills to your resume!" Pete laughed. "I mean, of course, unless you want to spend the rest of your lives behind bars?"

He had them. The three continued to follow Pete down the flight of stairs morosely, hating this situation more with every step.

"So why do you need the princess dead all a sudden?" Basil demanded spitefully. "Far as I could tell, you two is pretty chummy."

"Princess probably set a weight limit for them royal carriages," Bertrand whispered softly. Bonaparte exploded with laughter.

Pete gritted his teeth. He didn't know how he'd be able to stand working with such idiots. "Oh. How could I have forgotten to mention?" He grinned. "Why, the big reason to be riddin' of that hoity toity princess…is so I can takes her place as King!"

The boys smashed into each other again as they came to the bottom of the stairs. "King?!"

"Appreciate the vote of confidence, boys," Pete grumbled, leading them into a large stone room only lit by flickering torches. On the far side of the wall, stood a purple gilded throne and a table with assorted objects on it. "But dontcha fret. Help me help you, and under my rule you three'll be free as birds!" He winked.

The boys glanced and nodded amongst each other. That did sound promising…anything was better than how they lived now.

"Lieutenant Clarabelle! Clarabelle!" He called out. From out of the flickering shadows, a figure then suddenly spoke, making the beagles jump a little.

"Bonjour, mon capitan!" Entering the room came a cow wearing a deep red dress and a large cowbell around her. Her brightness faded as she noticed the Beagle Boys in the room. "What are they doing here?"

Bertrand smiled awkwardly. "Er, hello."

Pete walked up behind the trio and laughed, clapping the two twins on the shoulder. "Come on now, don't be like dat, Clarabelle! These are the schmucks that're gonna help me seize tha throne!" He looked positively triumphant with those words.

Clarabelle raised an eyebrow, not convinced. It was one thing for Pete to have gone and gotten some nobodys involved, but these guys? From their looks, torn and tattered, they were total bums.

"Well, I'll leave you to fillin' them in on everything," Pete said, turning around and tottering out of the room without a second look back. "I've got plans to hatch, coups to scheme!" His laughter finally died out as he vanished into the halls.

The three boys looked at Clarabelle and she groaned and crossed her arms. "Honestly, I have to do everything around here. Do you three even know the Princess's day by day itinerary?"

"D'eh?" They looked clueless.

Clarabelle shook her head. "Well, as leader of her Musketeers, Captain Pete is charged with knowing where she is any moment of any day. Every meal, every conference, every ride out to the city…" She looked expectantly at them.

"So you want us to find out…"

"When she's alone…"

"…And kill her then!"

It sounded easy enough.

That evening, the trio studied a shoddy map of the palace Clarabelle had given them. Within a few minutes, they would begin their first excursion checking around the palace.

"The Princess likes to take a stroll in her garden at dusk," Clarabelle mentioned, walking with the Beagle Boys up to the foot of the long spiral staircase. "My bet is you'll find her there."

Basil and Bonaparte started up the stairs, but Bertrand held back anxiously, smiling at Clarabelle. "Hey, uh, by the way, my name's Bertrand. Friends call me Bert. That's Bas-"

"I didn't ask," Clarabelle pursed her lips and looked at him with mild annoyance. Bertrand put his hand to his face nervously, wondering what he'd done wrong, then rushed up the stairs to join his brothers.

The three reached the stone walls enclosing the immense garden, and one on top of another, they stacked up to see over it.

Bonaparte, the lightest, clambered onto the wall as his cousins struggled below. Glancing around through the elaborate topiaries and flowerbeds, he was on the lookout for any sign of movement…

Aha!

"That's the princess?" Bonaparte asked with awe, watching the delicate figure walk through the blossoming hedges. "Oh hoh…she is très délicieux! Shame we have to kill her."

Basil and Bertrand shot a glare up at their cousin, still trying the best they could to see over the wall.

For some minutes, the three silently watched the Princess and what could only be her Lady in Waiting talk. Then the two proceeded to walk up to the palace steps. Nightfall was upon them. With their targets now out of sight, the three Beagles wasted no time, and under the pale stars, the three vanished back into the dark.