"It's my baguette, I bought it!"
"Ah, but I stole it fair and square, so it's mine."
"How can you steal something 'fair and square'?"
"My need was greater than yours."
"Your need for my breakfast?"
"Gentlemen!"
The four musketeers looked up, to see Treville's face fixed into an expression of mingled amusement and exasperation. An expression, Athos mused, that seemed to be becoming rather permanent.
"It has not escaped my notice" said Treville, "that four of my best musketeers have, of late, been behaving more like overgrown children than like the king's bodyguards." Ignoring the injured looks, he carried on. "In order to bring your focus back to your jobs, I am therefore decreeing a contest." Raising his voice still further in an attempt to drown out Porthos' protestations that by commandeering D'Artagnan's breakfast, he was enabling himself to do his job better, he announced that in a week's time, the four of them would compete in swordplay, shooting, and hand-to-hand combat. The one who ranked highest overall would be declared the winner.
"What's the prize, Captain?" asked Aramis. Treville smiled; this was the best part of his scheme. "Madame Rodier is visiting Paris next month," he said, and then watched with no small amount of glee as the musketeers' faces fell in unison. Madame Rodier was a second cousin of the king, a small, plump woman of late middle years. Ever since her husband had died two years earlier, she had made a habit of visiting the capital, and the musketeers were required to provide protection for her due to the royal connection. Between her shameless advances on the musketeers, and her frequent and whining commands that they fetch cakes for her and her pet lapdogs at any hour of the day or night, guarding her was every musketeer's nightmare.
"As usual, a detail of three musketeers will be needed to protect her" continued Treville, by now enjoying himself mightily. "The winner will be excused this duty." With that, he returned to his office, feeling rather pleased with himself.
"Captain?"
He looked up to see Athos, who had followed him into his office, and was looking almost cheerful, an expression that was rare for the generally taciturn musketeer at the best of times, and certainly at this moment of great peril.
"Yes?"
"Are you holding this contest because you are seriously worried about our ability to protect the king, or because you want a reprieve from the bickering?"
Not for the first time in his life, Treville silently cursed Athos' ability to read people. He floundered for an answer for a moment, before Athos spoke again.
"If it's the latter, I fear it will be less than successful."
A.N. Thanks for reading! Please review, and just to say that I haven't yet decided on the winner of this competition - if you have any opinions let me know.