Finished debriefing the captain, the three men stood to leave. The captain finally stilled his pen and rubbed a tired hand through his hair. That made him frown.
"Could do with a haircut," he mumbled to himself although apparently his voice had carried loud enough for Porthos to hear before he exited.
"You should get Aramis to do it," Porthos suggested. The Musketeer who heard his name mentioned even though he was already out the door, popped his head back round the corner.
"Excuse me?" He asked, wanting to know exactly what he had been volunteered for.
"The Captain needs his hair cutting," Porthos explained even though Treville was trying to shut him up with his eyes; he didn't need the fuss. Apparently, the matter was now out of his hands as Aramis strode back into the room. Athos, behind him, came to lean on the doorframe.
"I can do that, sir," Aramis offered, "I've been meaning to do Athos' anyway."
Athos blinked, "What is wrong with my hair?"
"You look like you have been raised by wolves," Aramis told him with a shrug.
Treville smiled and shook his head, "Alright then. Fine. Where is best?"
Aramis narrowed his eyes in confusion so Treville clarified. "Do you not need light?" he said, gesturing toward the window, "Also I don't want hair on my desk."
"Oh no," Aramis said quickly, "We can't do it here. I don't have the right scissors."
At that statement, Porthos chuckled and Athos rolled his eyes but Treville found himself stunned into silence.
Aramis just sighed, "Yes, ok, not quite befitting of a soldier to have hairdressing scissors but at least I keep you all presentable. Speaking of which, I have finished your shirts, Porthos."
"Oh right," Porthos nodded, "Thanks."
Despite himself, Treville found himself asking, "What have you been doing with his shirts?"
"I mend them," Aramis said simply.
The Captain's eyebrows rose, "So..." he started, "You cut hair and you're a seamstress. Do you cook too?"
"No!" Came the sharp reply from all three men.
Porthos grimaced, "We don't let him cook."
"Do you not remember the campfire incident of '24?" Aramis asked.
Suddenly the smell of burning drifted into Treville' memory, "That was a disaster. I forgot that was you."
Aramis laughed, "I can't quite believe it myself sometimes."
Athos' voice came from the door, "Porthos is our chef."
"Oh yeah," Treville looked at the man in question.
"Yeah, I'll cook tonight if you want," Porthos offered kindly, "Since it seems we're all heading to Aramis'"
The other men nodded their thanks. Treville had a thought as he stepped out from behind his desk, "What do you do then, Athos?"
Athos smirked, "I do what I always do."
"We couldn't manage without it," Porthos added.
"It's a noble skill," Aramis chuckled.
Treville looked between his three favourite Musketeers, "Well, what is it?"
"I provide the wine."
...