The three comrades were seated together alone in the warmth of the fire at Athos's place. After a good bit of wine, D'Artagnan had gone for a walk and had left the three friends to their own devices. However none of them would ever admit it, they found it quite nice to be amongst themselves as they had been in former days.

"Shouldn't we go and look if he's ok?" Porthos asked, a bit worried. Athos looked at him but didn't speak. Aramis stared at Athos and with a glance of relief turned his attention back to his book again when Athos didn't answer in the affirmative.

"He will manage, Porthos" Aramis said, looking up from his book again when he heard Porthos grumbling.

"I don't understand you guys." Porthos said at last "He's our friend, after all."

He sighed. Not that long ago, they had accepted the young lad to be one of them, not only a friend, but a musketeer. He was good, he had to admit it. And so did his comrades. But it was never the same with D'Artagnan around. Being together, just the three of them, had become a rarety. And he had to admit it was good to be with Aramis and Athos again.

He settled back into the chair he had vacated and continued staring to the fire until Aramis closed his book.

Athos looked up with a questioning frown.

"I'm just going to bed." Aramis stated in a tone as if Athos had actually questioned his behavior.

Porthos in turn frowned at the statement.

"Realy Athos, what is the matter?" Aramis said, ignoring Porthos standing up to join them at the other side of the hearth. The great musketeer placed a hand on the other man's shoulder.

"Athos is just concerned , it's all."

Aramis shook his head. For once, he couldn't bring forth the exact words to voice what he had in mind.

"I know. It's just that I… It feels so good to be with you guys, like it was long ago. I so enjoy this moment, but… it feels wrong. I mean, I really enjoy D'Artagnan not to be here and that's not really a nice thing, is it?'

Porthos nodded thoughtfully, then shook his head. "No." he decided finally "It isn't. But I feel the same way."

"The more reason to conclude it's not correct." Athos said, with a double tongue. He clearly was off the hook already.

"Look who's talking. You better go with Aramis and have a good nap." Porthos al but snapped. He knew his friend was only drunk once again but still he was disturbed by the remark.

Athos made a disapproving sound.

Aramis sat down again on his chair. He didn't want to go to sleep. He wanted to stay with his friends as long as possible.

"Really, you two." Porthos said "You are on the verge of falling off your chairs." Athos made another disapproving sound and let himself drop off his chair, lying down before the fire. Porthos shook his head in some way of desperation. When Aramis followed Athos's example he gave up. Aramis closed his eyes and curled up, way to close to the fire in the hearth. He didn't react on Porthos's attempt to warn him and Athos turned him on his back, away from the flames. Porthos rolled his eyes at Aramis and gave him another gentle push till he was far away from the hearth. Athos resettled untill he was between Aramis and the fire and lay down. Porthos smiled tenderly when he looked down at his now sleeping friends but his smile became wrily when the door opened.

D'Artagnan came in, wet from head to toe. Apparently, it had started to rain. When he saw the three friends, one sleeping and lightly snoring, the second lying staring in the flames and jerking his head up the moment he was aware of the intrusion and the third watching them, he understood they were enjoying their old friendship.

Instead of joining them as he would have done every other moment, D'Artagnan turned around and walked out again.

"Where are you going?" Porthos asked.

"Home." Was the only answer he got before the door closed behind D'Artagnan.

Porthos sighed but didn't go after him. He felt he had to stay here to prove himself and D'Artagnan what the real friendship of the three musketeers meant for each of them. He was happy the young man seemed to accept it.

Porthos was still seated alone at the table when D'Artagnan knocked the next morning. Porthos could see he too hadn't slept yet. He nodded when the other stood in the doorway, apparently reluctant to come in when he saw Porthos.

Porthos noticed his hesistation and it took a couple of moments for him to register what was going on.

"Athos is't up yet." he then stated. "But do come in, he won't be long, I guess."

"D'Artagnan did enter then but still with unhidden reluctance.

"Sit down, mate." Porthos said, gesturing to the chairs at the table. D'Artagnan sat down but still didn't say anything. Then he started to cry. He didn't know where it came from and he didn't do anything to stop it.

Porthos stared at him, not able to think of something to do or to say. He just took the other in his arms, blushing while he did so and happy there was nobody around. At least, nobody who saw them.

"You all right?" he asked when he released D'Artagnan again.

D'Artagnan nodded. "Of course." He straightended his back and gestured at the two man on the ground.

"I take it you won the drink-contest this time?"

Porthos laughed. "As always."

"We better don't disturb them." He stood up from the table. "Did you need Athos?" he asked.

D'Artagnan swallowed back his unease, which hadn't remained unnoticed by the older musketeer.

" ." D'Artagnan started. "I wanted to speak the three of you, actually. I thought to begin here but since you and Aramis are still here I can as well ask it to you too."

"Sure. Shoot."

D'Artagnan shook his head. "I would rather wait for the others to wake up."

Porthos made a face as if he was shocked. "Then we better go and sit down more comfortable. He walked to the couch and motioned for D'Artagnan to follow him.

They both settled down on Athos's couch with a fresh bottle of wine and the warm comfort the company of a friend can give one.

(to be continued)