Jean Treville, second in command of the Paris Police Department was late again.

Having missed his alarm and having rushed to put on his uniform and double check he had all his equipment he found himself sprinting across the street to his mother's café.

Mrs. Anna Treville was the proud owner of one of the best cafes in France. The short grey haired woman had lovingly painted and decorated her small shop, and her coffee was the best in Paris.

Commissioner Louis was particularly fond of the coffee sold by Treville's mother, and every day Treville found himself bring two coffees in to work. His mother had taken to writing small messages and quotes on the travel cups she handed out and Treville sincerely hoped that this morning she would have anticipated his need for a hit and run.

Apparently she had.

Stepping in to the café he noticed the regular customers were seated in their regular tables enjoying his mother's baking. As he made his way towards the counter he smiled at the sight of his short mother holding out two travel mugs to him, steam curling elegantly from the lids.

" You're late again sweetheart, you really need to fix that alarm clock of yours," His mother greeted, pecking him on the cheek softly.

He embraced his mother gently, infinitely grateful for her thoughtfulness.

" I rushed in getting ready so I'd have five minutes to say good morning," He revealed, knowing his mother loved it when he out aside time to sit and chat with her.

Light blue eyes lighting up happily she leaned against the counter, taking his hands in her own.

" Thank you dear, I'm glad you could take time for your poor old mother," She joked, an amused smirk crinkling her delicate features.

Treville laughed warmly, shaking his head slightly in denial.

" You're hardly old yet mother," he assured.

She sent him a mock glare, shaking her wooden baking spoon in a mock threat.

" I should think not!"

The two of them laughed warmly at that, reveling in each others company to cast away their lonely lives. Ever since Treville's father had died he had taken special precautions to make sure his mother would be cared for, and one of those precautions was to live nearby so neither of them would need to be lonely.

He was a grown man who ate dinner with his mother every night like a child.

The bell on the door heralded a new arrival and Treville turned to see two young teens enter the shop.

The first appeared to be the older one and if Treville had to hazard a guess he would say the boy was around fifteen years old. With a mop of dark brown hair and a battered grey hoodie to keep out the chill he stepped in to the store, stormy blue eyes searching its occupants until his gaze settled on Treville's mother and he sent a small smile in her direction before leading the way to the kitchens attached to the café.

His companion was slightly younger at about fourteen and was obviously had an African ancestor along the line somewhere. He was bigger than the first boy, with muscles beneath his black shirt and a mess of dark curls under a navy bandana. He sent a broad grin to Mrs. Treville before following his friend to the kitchens.

Watching them go his mother sent them a fond smile that had Treville raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

At his questioning glance his mother smiled sadly. " That would be Athos and Porthos, they do odd jobs around here for me," she explained.

Treville's brow furrowed in concern. "I wasn't aware you needed help around the place".

She let out a small sigh before meeting his gaze again and he immediately knew there was more to the story then he had first thought.

" They're homeless. They live together under a bridge with two younger boys they take care of. Athos and Porthos do work around here and while they refuse to take money I give them food or supplies for their work. It's so sad seeing two lovely children like them having to take on so much responsibility," She explained, the two of them watching as the teens collected cleaning supplies and began wiping benches dirtied from the early morning baking.

Heaving a small sigh Treville watched them work together. Throughout his years on the force he'd seen many cases of homeless teens resorting to crime and he thanked the heavens these boys had found his gentle mother instead of a gang leader. The thought of these boys ensnared by a gang like the Red Guards had his coffee tasting like ash in his mouth.

" They aren't in the system?" He asked.

His mother shook her head. "No, they don't really trust adults all that much and the poor boys have all had quite awful childhoods. The four of them have become like brothers and I assume that they're worried they'll be separated if the system got involved," His mother answered, concern for their welfare clear on her wrinkled face.

Cursing inwardly when his watch beeped loudly he collected up his coffees and kissed his mother goodbye.

" Don't forget to give Louis his coffee!" His mother called as he left the shop and he smirked softly.

As if his boss would ever let him forget.

After work he found himself comfortably changed out of his uniform and headed to his mother's shop across the road to help her close down for the day. He was looking forward to a home cooked dinner that night; his mother was making his favorite pasta.

Upon entering the shop he found himself greeted with a hug from his mother.

" How was your day honey?" She asked when they broke apart.

" Same old work, not much really happened except for the fact that Richelieu is really trying to push his initiative for more patrols around the Louvre," Treville answered with a small shrug.

His partner, Armand Richelieu was a difficult man to work with and Treville found himself often butting heads with his temperamental colleague.

" Why don't you bring him some coffee tomorrow as well, maybe then he'll be a bit nicer towards you," His mother suggested in concern.

Treville let out a snort of laughter at the thought of his partner accepting any type of gift from him.

" I'm sorry mother but I don't think even your coffee would change that man's attitude".

Sitting down at a nearby table he found himself listening to his mother's recount of her day and unwinding form the stress of his job.

A while later their conversation paused at the appearance of Athos and Porthos who stood with their hands at their sides and sheepish smiles of their tanned faces.

" Sorry to interrupt Mrs. Treville but we were wondering if it was okay to leave a little early tonight?" Athos asked hopefully, giving a respectful nod to Treville as he did so.

" Of course you boys can go, I hope nothing's wrong?" She gushed warmly.

Giving a confident flash of a smile Porthos drew himself up to his full height.

"Nothing we can't handle, it's just that it's D'artagnan's birthday and the pup wanted to spend time with us tonight," He revealed with a fond grin at the thought of his little brother.

Treville's interest peaked. He knew his mother had mentioned two younger boys and he assumed D'artagnan was one of them. Where were the others? Did they stay under the bridge all day and night while the older boys went off to work?

" Oh bless that little one! How old is he turning this year?" His mother asked lovingly.

Athos gave them a small smirk at the obvious love Mrs. Treville had for his littlest brother. "He's turning five this year".

" Five! The little on is growing so big now. Oh you must bring Aramis and D'artagnan by some time to visit while you work, I'd love their company," his mother commented wistfully before bustling over to the counter and handing over a bag of left overs and what appeared to be some of Treville's childhood clothing.

Opening her display cabinet she pulled out a small chocolate cupcake and gave it to a surprised Athos.

" You make sure you boys share this as my gift for D'artagnan," she added warmly.

" Thank you Mrs. Treville!" Porthos cried as he hugged her goodbye and led the way out in to the sunset bathed streets, Athos hesitating slightly before hugging the old woman as well.

" Thank you for your kindness," he murmured softly before rushing after Porthos, cupcake safely clutched in his bag to supplies.

Shaking her head fondly, Mrs Treville rejoined him and hey watched the boys walk down the streets with their arms wound around each other in a gesture of companionship.

" I wish I could do more for those boys but they won't take anything but the bare minimum from me," She murmured, chin resting on her hands as she watched them disappear.

Treville pulled her in to a side hug.

" You give them work and food by which to survive, I know they're grateful mother," Treville reassured her.

Inside he found himself picturing Athos's dark eyes with their hidden depths and veiled pain.

For some reason he found himself drawn to the older boy. While the they worked with his other it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on them. Maybe he'd get to know the mysterious children from under the bridge.