No More Monkeys

Summary: Raoul learns how to climb and D'Artagnan and Athos get an early morning wake-up call. Baby fic from the 'Bitter to Sweet' universe. Slash.

A/N: Raoul is still a baby at this point, probably not much older than he is in 'Curtains.' And like all babies, he is quite the handful at a young age. I'm rather enjoying exploring these stages of fatherhood where both D'Artagnan and Athos have to learn things on the fly about being parents ^^. They're more filler stories than anything, but I just can't seem to stop writing them.

Warnings: Established slash relationship between D'Artagnan and Athos. Nothing happens, just two men laying together in bed early in the AM. Aside from that references here and there but nothing explicit. More baby cuteness.

Disclaimer: The Three Musketeers and its characters rightfully belong to Alexandre Dumas. I'm just a serial borrower.


Athos woke with a start. He picked his head up from the pillows and covers and looked around with bleary eyes. He had woken to a noise. He was sure of it. And it was a loud noise. Yet the room and the house were completely silent.

Odd.

With a sigh he laid back down and shifted until he was comfortable with D'Artagnan in his arms. The boy hadn't woken and only snuggled closer to him in his sleep. Just as he was at sleep's threshold, he heard it again, or what must have been it. He lifted his head and tried to mentally shake himself into awareness. That wasn't a sound he was familiar with.

It was a softer sound.

A persistent sound.

Athos' head shot towards the closed door in disbelief.

It couldn't be…

D'Artagnan groaned in protest, trying to unconsciously tug Athos back to bed, but the man gently dislodged himself from his lover, threw on a pair of loose trousers and crossed the room. He pressed his ear to the wooden door and listened. The noise had stopped. Cautiously, he opened the door and peered out.

Nothing.

And no one.

Not another soul was awake in the house so early in the morning.

Then it came again from around his feet.

A giggle.

Athos looked down, slowly, and once his eyes landed on the source of the noise that dragged him from bed, the little culprit giggled again and raised his arms, demanding to be picked up. The man wanted to kick himself for being so sleep-addled, but he complied with the child and picked him up into his arms.

Athos frowned as he whispered. "What in hell are you doing out here, boy?"

"Papa," Raoul said, grabbing Athos' nose and squeezing it between his little fingers.

Athos tried to pull out of his son's strong grip, but to no avail. He looked across the hall to the nursery and as he suspected found the door slightly ajar and the bed sheets of the crib partly lying over the side of the front bars. He could physically feel the blood drain from his face as he finally put two and two together. Athos had initially scoffed at the boy's nursemaid when she suggested putting pillows beneath the crib if the child ever learned to climb out. The thought had given him a good laugh because Raoul was still practically an infant.

Katharina had complied with Athos' wishes since the discussion, but as it seemed this morning she had disobeyed him last night, and with great foresight. Athos couldn't be anything but grateful for the Prussian girl's stubbornness. He didn't even want to think what the child might have suffered had those pillows not been there to cushion his fall. Much to Athos' consternation Raoul still refused to let go of his nose, even as he checked the boy over three times for injuries or bruises.

"Athos," D'Artagnan moaned from their room, groggy with sleep. "It's Sunday, and far too early for work. Come back to bed."

"Would you object to a third party," Athos asked, the tone of his voice a pitch higher due to the captivity of his nose.

D'Artagnan's raised his tousled head from the sheets and frowned in confusion, sleep still clinging to him like a damp shirt.

"We have a visitor," Athos drawled, re-entering the room and depositing his son on the bed between them and crawling back under the covers himself. Raoul cooed as he navigated the covers and sheets with a happy morning face and an endless amount of energy.

D'Artagnan reluctantly pulled himself up and laid back into the pillows, fighting sleep from another long night of "adult quiet time," which truly wasn't quiet even though the both of them did put forth continued valiant efforts to do so. "Was he awake already?"

"And waiting at the door," Athos replied.

D'Artagnan turned to face him with furrowed brows. "At the door?-"

"DA," Raoul shouted, crawling on top of D'Artagnan's chest.

D'Artagnan winced at his godson's loud voice so early in the morning and kissed him on the nose. "Yes, good morning, little fish."

"He was sitting in front of our door when I opened it."

"In the hall?"

Athos nodded.

"Did Grimaud let him out?"

"Grimaud is still away visiting his sister."

"And Katharina is still sick…"

Athos sighed. "Precisely my thoughts."

D'Artagnan turned to Athos, skeptical. "You're not suggesting…"

"He seems to have. And I was first awoken to a louder noise."

If D'Artagnan looked sleepy before he was now anything but. His eyes went wide with fear and then looked to the child cooing between them and playing with his feet while lying on his back. "He fell," D'Artagnan dared to ask, barely a whisper.

"Onto the pillows Katharina set on the floor," Athos said, easing his lover's mind and probably his own at the same time. "That girl is starting to frighten me with her intuition."

D'Artagnan only looked marginally relieved as he checked Raoul over himself. "He's alright then?"

Athos ran his finger along the bottom of the baby's feet, making him squeal and kick. "For now."

"If he knows how to climb out, Athos, he'll do it again."

"I know."

"Bwwwwww!" Raoul kicked at the bed covers, trying to slip his feet under.

"I wish my mother were here," D'Artagnan said. "She told me I used to do the same thing when I was a child."

"And pray tell how did she and your father keep you from breaking your neck?"

Raoul rolled over onto his back and tried climbing the pillows against the headboard. "BaaaaLALA!" Then he sank onto his bottom and slapped his hands against the soft feathered pillows. "Aaaaaaaaaaaa!"

"I have no idea," D'Artagnan confessed. "And I don't think my parents ever did either. I wouldn't have thought poorly of them if they had tried tying me down if it meant keeping me from injury."

"Somehow I doubt Raoul would like that very much."

D'Artagnan sniffed with a smile. "I'll write to my mother and ask her advice. But what do we do in the meantime?"

Raoul fell onto his back, but D'Artagnan and Athos both snuck hands under the boy's back to steady the fall. The little boy waved his arms and kicked his legs, reaching for his feet again. "Bwwwwwww!"

Athos winced. "More pillows?"

D'Artagnan nodded with firm decision. "More pillows."

Raoul stuck a foot in his mouth and smiled, cooing in happiness under two identical frowns looking down at him.