A/N: This little snippet is solely meant to be humorous. Just four guys joking around.

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to The Musketeers. Just having a little fun.

The Four Wise Men

By: Vanessa Sgroi

Aramis rubbed his hands together, blowing on them before pulling on his gloves. "It's colder than a nun's…"

"Aramis!" chided Athos.

"What?" Aramis smiled innocently. "I was merely going to say colder than a nun's bed out here."

Athos pulled himself into his saddle, a definite twinkle ablaze in his eyes. He dipped his chin to his chest. "Quite. I trust you all dressed warmly."

Porthos, already seated on his steed, muttered, "Tell me again what's so important that we're settin' out in this infernal cold instead of snug in front of a fire with a cup o' wine?"

"As I mentioned," intoned Athos, "the Comte de le Cote has a gift he wishes delivered to the King."

"On Christmas Eve?" exclaimed D'Artagnan. "Could it not have waited a couple of days?"

Athos merely shrugged. "We are the King's Musketeers. We do as he commands."

Porthos grumbled. "So four men to pick up and deliver one package? A little bit of overkill, don't you think?" His thoughts still focused on that roaring fire.

"Let me amend—it is three packages we are to pick up."

"Three packages?" D'Artagnan squinted at Athos through the snow that had just begun to fall. "Then why four men?"

Athos gave D'Artagnan a cold stare. "The fourth man comes along merely to share in the misery within which the rest of us must wallow."

D'Artagnan swallowed hard. "Oh."

Athos bit back a smile and shook his head. "No. The fourth man is needed for extra security as these packages are reported to be of some value."

Aramis laughed. "Filled with gold, frankincense, and myrrh, perhaps?"

"Blasphemer!" Porthos cried and threw a hand to his chest dramatically.

Shaking his head at his peers' antics, Athos said, "I surely hope not. As much as I believe we ARE three—er, four—wise men, I rather think delivering these gifts on bended knee to the likes of King Louis would be a bit…distasteful."

Porthos nodded. "You got that right." He glanced at Aramis who was gazing intently up at the sky. "Aramis, what are you doin'?"

"Oh, just searching for a star in the East."

"That'd be after we pick up the gifts an' head back, yeah?"

Aramis tilted his head and smiled. "I do believe you are correct."

"Well, I believe that is enough nonsense for the moment," Athos interjected. "Let's pick up the pace. The Comte de le Cote is only a two-hour ride. If we hurry, we'll be back before eventide. There may even be some roasted goose left for us."

D'Artagnan groaned as his stomach rumbled. "Yes, but only if Serge is kind enough to set some aside."

"Goose or no," Aramis noted, "I do have some grape and honey brandy I intended to share tonight. The sooner we get back, the sooner we can imbibe."

Porthos leaned forward in his saddle, urging his horse to move a bit faster. "Well now, let's get to it then. That's a promise I can't pass up."

FIN