A/N: Hello people! In case anyone was wondering I did not fall off the face of the earth but was actually stuck with exams. I was reading, writing and reviewing – just not the fun sort. So here's another installment in this AU.
Apologies beforehand if the story turns out not being up to par because I'm quite rusty; been away from this 'Verse and generally creative creating for a while. So bear with me please. Updates for this one might be slow too.
A general warning for the possible inaccuracies of medical, police and military procedures.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable here, not making any money either.
"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost." – J.R.R Tolkien [The Fellowship of the Ring]
He jiggled his leg; glanced down at the round face of the watch on his wrist before the dark eyes turned to glance in the rearview mirror. The car's rear window had fogged up. Porthos glanced back at the plastic container with the bright green lid sitting on the seat beside him and resisted the urge to call Athos – again.
The last time he had checked up on him the man had not been happy to be sent on a coffee run at six in the morning. Zipping close his jacket Porthos grabbed the plastic box and stepped out into the cold morning. The sharp chill had numbed his nose by the time he had rounded the car and walked up the front of the building where he stopped at the sound of the approaching car.
A smile broke on his face as the car stopped behind his own and his friend emerged, buttoned up to his neck in a black coat and looking like a solid shadow carrying the precious cargo it had been sent to retrieve. Blue eyes narrowed at his grin before the man stuffed his free hand deeper into his coat pocket.
"This was a bad idea," Athos said.
"It was your idea,"
"An oversight on my part,"
Porthos grinned wider even as he shook his head and followed his friend into the building. Taking two stairs at a time he overtook the other man and stopping a step above him rounded on his friend, pinning him with an accusatory jab of his finger.
"Admit it; you momentarily lost your mind in your excitement,"
"More likely I lost my mind due to the sleepless nights and horrendous work load," Athos said.
Porthos had to admit that the workload had been bad, their latest assignment had been a draining stretch but at least it would end today. He shrugged, feeling lighter for the thought. That and the fact that he had been itching to call their friend ever since he had heard the news that had brought them here at this hour.
"I was the one who had to go home past midnight and stay up baking," he said.
"You were the one nice and warm in your kitchen working near a hot oven;" Athos said as he moved past him and further up in the quiet stairwell.
Porthos chuckled at the prickly tone.
"You were not the one out on the streets in the cold," Athos tossed over his shoulder.
"You were in a car,"
"Searching for our friend's favorite coffee fix in the pre-dawn hours,"
"At six in the morning,"
"Reaching the coffee shop before even the baristas get there,"
"I'm sure they were opening up when you got there," Porthos rolled his eyes.
Athos raised an eyebrow and gave him a particularly unimpressed look as they stopped before the door of their friend's flat. Porthos looked from the door to the Styrofoam cups in Athos grasp, one of which was the signature chocolate blend from that colorful coffee shop Aramis loved. He looked his friend in the eye even as he felt a smile curl up on his face.
"It's worth it," Porthos said.
"Obviously,"
The bland tone of his voice did nothing to hide the fond amusement in Athos' eyes. Porthos nodded as he fished out the key to Aramis' flat, glad once again that they shared a set for all three residences between them.
The sound of the door closing behind them was no more than a whisper and Porthos felt all of ten years old as Athos pressed a finger to his own lips in the reprimand to shush. Stifling the laughter bubbling in his gut he motioned for his friend to follow and nodded to Athos as they came to a stop on either side of the closed door of Aramis' bedroom.
Turning the knob gently Porthos toed the door open. The room was mutely lit with the soft glow of the winter morning that the curtains hadn't been successful in completely blocking out. And there, with his back to the wall and face to the door was Aramis. The dark eyes were open, alert as they looked to Porthos and then at Athos and clearly deciding that the intruders were not worth the attention the man pulled the blanket over his head and rolled over.
"Is that any way to greet the friends who bring you breakfast in bed?" Porthos demanded loudly.
He marched in and poked the lump on the bed as Athos pulled the curtains open all the way. Picking up the pen on the bedside table Porthos stabbed the covers; stabbed it harder when there was no reaction the first time.
"C'mon up you get,"
Aramis stuck out a hand and sent him a rude gesture for his efforts.
Athos rolled his eyes and pulling out the extra pillow smacked it hard against the blanket covered head.
"Up,"
"G' away," came the whine from under the covers.
"Get up,"
"S' too early…."
Porthos caught Athos' glance, grinned at the wicked gleam there and nodded. Grabbing the vaguely leg shaped swell in the blankets they pulled their friend off the bed covers and all. Aramis cursed roundly as he landed on the floor with a hard thump.
"Bloody sadists," Aramis hissed.
He sat up rubbing his elbows and gathered the blankets over his lap. Aramis pulled the edge of the covers around his shoulders and glared up at them. Porthos mussed the already bedraggled curls and dodged back from the retaliating swats. Athos smirked.
"Good morning to you too sunshine," he said.
"Don't you have a Captain to report to?"
"He said we could come in late today,"
"Oh joy,"
Porthos snorted at the dry tone even as Athos lightly kicked the pile of blankets. Aramis scowled as he slapped at the boot clad foot in his vicinity. Hunkering down in his pile of covers he gave jaw cracking yawn.
"We come bearing cupcakes," Porthos said.
That caught Aramis' attention. He craned his neck to get a better look at the plastic box in Porthos' hand, looking much like an eager emu with his hair wild and sleep soft eyes that had widened in interest. Letting go of the blanket he had wrapped around himself Aramis reached out and wriggled his fingers.
"Gimme,"
"Eloquent as ever," said Athos.
Porthos gave the box to his friend as he flopped down at his side. Athos draped his coat over the chair by the desk and dropped to sit on Aramis' other side. Carefully he set the cups on the floor. Picking out one, he handed it to their friend who had already bitten off half a cupcake.
Porthos watched Aramis' eyes grow round as he stared at the Styrofoam cup in his hand, gaze fixed onto the name that told him his coffee came from halfway across the city. He looked from Porthos to Athos and swallowed the chunk of cupcake with some difficulty.
"Am I dying?" he asked.
Porthos smacked him on the back of the head none too lightly, feeling just a twinge of guilt when the man erupted in a cough. Athos rolled his eyes even as he rescued the coffee from Aramis' grasp.
"Not unless asphyxiation by baked goods is the way you want to go," he said.
"Hey my cupcakes are worth dying for," Porthos said.
He threw an arm around Aramis' shoulders and pulled the man close, not really surprised when his brother took it as an invitation to lean all his weight against him.
"But no, you're not dying. We have some great news." He added.
"It seems the Captain wasn't happy with your interwove but for some reason he was impressed by your skills," Athos said and failed to keep the smile at bay, "You're hired."
Aramis straightened.
"We have it in writing and all," Porthos said.
A grin curled on his friend's face as his eyes fell on the plain white envelope that Porthos produced from inside his jacket. The big man pulled it back just as Athos grabbed Aramis' hand that has been reaching for the appointment letter.
"What?" Aramis asked.
Porthos chuckled and Athos shook his head.
"Sticky fingers," they said in unison.
"I knew that,"
"Sure," Porthos said.
He gave the letter to Athos who placed it on the bedside table, away from potential stains from eager hands.
"You'll have to come down to sign the rest of the papers," Athos said, "as soon as you can that is,"
Aramis tore his eyes away from the envelope set out of his reach and frowned slightly.
"I'll be heading out at five in the morning tomorrow. I thought I told him about the training exercise,"
"The camping trip?" Porthos asked, "Got your woolens in order have you?"
Aramis glared at him but Porthos grinned unrepentant. They had each been to the front lines, a four day trip to some secluded forest in the middle of frozen nowhere was hardly something daunting.
"SAVOY is not a camping trip. It's a Strategic Adaptability Variations Operation," his friend said, with his back straight and nose in the air, "Marsac and I will be in the lead for this one, and yes," he smiled, "I have my woolens in order."
"As fascinating as that is I think you had better call the Captain and confirm," Athos said.
He sipped his coffee and nodded to the duffel bag sitting by the door of the bedroom. A long case was leaning against the wall beside it, one that they all knew carried Aramis' sniper rifle.
"You're taking it with you?"
"I was actually hoping one of you would keep her safe for me," Aramis said, "the rest I've locked in the safe but Venus needs her space."
Porthos stifled a groan and shook his head at the sad state of affairs. His mind went to the motorcycle that was his friend's mode of transportation and wondered why he had ever assumed that the naming of inanimate objects would end there.
"I thought Mercury was bad enough," he spoke of the two wheeled menace that he wished his friend would stop using, "But Venus?"
"That one is temperamental; this one is balance. And since you insulted her you will be the one taking care of her," Aramis said, "I'll bring her along for dinner tonight,"
Porthos wanted to argue but it dawned on him that he had to pick up the ingredients for the homemade pizza he had promised these two for tonight. He would have his revenge by leaving as many dishes as he could for them to clean after. He took a drink of his coffee to hide the smirk but something niggled at the back of his mind.
"Not taking any weapons at all?" he asked.
"One blade each," Aramis shrugged, "It's a secure location we're told,"
"I don't like it," Athos said.
Porthos shifted where he sat and ignored the trickle of cold down his spine that the declaration had left him with. He caught Athos' blue eyes over their friend sitting between them and hoped that his own smile was much more reassuring than he felt at the moment.
"Like I said; a camping trip," he smiled and wrapped his free arm around Aramis' shoulders, "this time next week we'll all be at the office and wishing we can take a vacation like that."
The silence that followed was unexpected. Porthos gave Aramis a little shake, eyes narrowing slightly at his friend's gaze that was fixed on the half eaten cupcake in his hand. The shoulders under Porthos' arm shook slightly as Aramis' quiet laugh bubbled forth and Porthos felt his own excitement swell in his chest. He knew exactly where his friend's mind had gone; so many times during their school years had they planned their future and so many times had they tried to find a middle ground for their diverse interests.
"You do know what this means right?" Aramis looked from him to Athos and shook his head slowly, "Can't believe it actually happened."
"Except that Athos is not a lawyer, you are not a doctor and I'm not a professional sportsman," Porthos said.
"And we certainly won't be living in a tree-house designed out of some sci-fi story," Athos added.
"Not a big fan of tree climbing anyway," Porthos shrugged.
"And the plumbing would be a nightmare," Athos nodded.
"But we'll be working together," Aramis grinned.
Athos smirked and raised the cupcake in his hand.
"To us," he said.
"To dreams turning real; sort of," Porthos said as he added his own baked treat.
Aramis' grin was alight in his eyes as his half eaten breakfast joined theirs in the air.
"To family," he said.
Two weeks into this mess and he still couldn't wrap his mind around how a simple security assignment of a jewelry collection for private viewing had landed them on the trail of a ring of thieves. It had gone from security detail to retrieval to investigation to guarding a potential witness on the way to the police.
Sometimes Athos wondered if fate enjoyed toying with them.
"I don't understand why I'm supposed to be the one risking my life for this," Rochefort said.
And sometimes Athos believed whole heartedly that it did.
"Will you be whining all the way?" Flea asked from where she was perched on the table edge.
"It's his default setting you know that," Charon grinned, "think if we ask the Captain nicely he will switch a member from this new team?"
"I vote we get Porthos!" Flea said.
"I'm sticking with this one," the man in question pointed at Athos, "and we'll be getting our own third to make our own team thank you very much."
Athos ignored the very vocal disappointment from the petite blonde as she pulled a knit cap snug on Rochefort's head. It belonged to Mr. Glovere, the ex-convict they had traced and convinced to speak up against the people he had taken a fall for years ago. Out of all of them Rochefort was the only one with the built closest to the old man they were protecting and Athos couldn't deny the perverse pleasure he felt every time he saw the other man scowl at that fact.
"Are you sure this will work?" Mr. Glovere asked.
"It is the best option we have," Athos said, "if they are watching the house it would draw them away from you."
"And towards us," Rochefort frowned, "I'll be the one they'll target."
"And we shall mourn you if they succeed," Flea grinned.
She hopped down to her feet, grabbed onto Rochefort's arm and began guiding him to the main door; Charon quickly took up the other side as they exited. The lock clicked after them and Athos turned to his friend who was still staring at the door. He knew that Porthos was good friends with Flea and Charon and even if they disliked Rochefort, none of them wanted to see the man dead.
"They'll be fine," Athos said.
"They better be,"
Mr. Glovere twitched at the soft growl and turned a wary gaze towards Porthos. The big man motioned with his head to move to the back of the house and they waited fifteen minutes before exiting out the side door. They moved out to the sidewalk and strolled over to the end of the street where Porthos had parked his car. Athos forced his mind away from the innocent emptiness of the street that he hadn't noticed upon their arrival, it was all he could do to not look around for some shadowy figure lurking behind a tree or a fence.
He let go a soft breath of relief as he settled in the car beside Porthos; buckled in as his friend started the car even as Mr. Glovere slid into the backseat. The old man cast a glance behind them as they pulled away from the curb and flashed a grin at Athos.
"Looks like it was all for nothing," he said.
"Let's hope so," Athos turned his eyes back to the road.
He felt the knot in his stomach ease when his mobile phone buzzed and Flea's voice filtered through the moment he received the call. They were nearing the rendezvous point, were almost out of the residential area and Athos was still listening to Flea when the van appeared in the side view mirror.
"Porthos…"
"I see them,"
Athos wanted to hope that it was his paranoia projected on some innocent family out for a drive but his instincts told him otherwise. Even if the van tailed them at an even speed he still asked Flea to meet them halfway; they were ten minutes away from each other and Athos had a feeling they would need backup sooner than that.
He glanced at his friend as their car picked up speed
"Brace yourselves!" Porthos said over the whine of the engine.
They turned along the curb at speed as the van pulled next to them. Athos' hand went to his weapon even as the bang of metal against metal reverberated through the car. Their attackers pinned them against the sidewalk and the screech of tires gave way to a harsh jolt as their car went over the footpath.
Porthos voice filled the air with curses as the world careened wildly and they squeezed past the van.
The hit to the back of the car nearly sent him face first into the dashboard and Athos hissed as the seatbelt cut into him. He pulled himself up as another hit spun the world around him, the moment stretching like spilled paint until it stopped with a smack of white to his face.
His jaw hurt and his lips stung.
Athos blinked to clear the water from his eyes as the deceptively silky material fell away from his throbbing face. He squinted against the blur in his view and pulled his eyes away from the tree bark that was too close to the windscreen in front of him.
"Porthos?" he turned to the man at his side.
The big man was slumped forwards and Athos unlocked his seatbelt in a hurry to reach his friend. Relief melted his bones when he felt the steady thump under his fingers that were pressed to Porthos' neck.
"Wha –' " his friend came around under his touch.
He was about to help Porthos sit back against the seat when the back door of the car swung open. Mr. Glovere screamed as he was dragged out onto the road. Athos shoved against his own door, cursed under his breath when it refused to open and scrambled to push through the gap between the front seats to get in the back. By the time his boots hit the road the van was pulling away.
Athos watched the vehicle disappear around the bend they had left behind and wondered if Mr. Glovere would live to see another day. Bile rose at the thought of being the ones who had dragged the man into the crosshairs and it was all he could do to tamp down the desire to kick something.
"…thos?"
He hurried back the way he had exited the car and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"Don't move, just stay put –" his eyes traced over the darkening patch at the side of Porthos' head, the swelling was already setting in.
"Mr. Glovere?" Porthos peered at him.
"They took him,"
"Damn,"
"Precisely,"
He looked out at the sound of a car stopping and watched Charon get out with his phone stuck to his ear. Athos couldn't believe he hadn't thought of calling for the ambulance and grimaced right along with Porthos when Flea rapped against the passenger side door.
This day was turning nothing like he had hoped for.
He pulled off the helmet and tucked it under his arm as the doors to the emergency wing hissed open. Dark eyes scanned the waiting area before Aramis headed for the corridor where the examination rooms were, vaguely noticing how little the hospital had change since he had been a student here. He turned the corner and immediately zeroed in on the man sitting in one of the blue plastic chairs lining the hallway.
Porthos sat rigid, with the back of his head resting against the wall and Aramis didn't miss the relief in Athos' eyes when the man looked up from where he stood observing their ailing friend. Patting Athos on the shoulder he crouched down before Porthos and laid a hand on his knee.
"Shouldn't you be inside with a doctor?" Aramis asked quietly.
Porthos opened bleary eyes to glare at him.
" 'm fine,"
"A mild concussion, the doctor wants to keep him overnight for observation." Athos said.
" 'm not stayin,"
He never did. Aramis nodded as he eyed the dark bruise to the side of Porthos head, fingers ghosting over the heated skin before he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Aramis pushed to his feet and felt his eyebrows rise at the sight of Athos before him. The slight swelling was more visible at this distance and the split lip was bright and puffy.
"So what exactly happened here?" he asked.
Athos flinched as Aramis reached forward and tilted his face gently towards the light. As his friend explained how Porthos had been forced to drive off the road and hit a tree, Aramis examined the bruise along Athos' jaw that was visible from under the beard.
"Please tell me you have someone going after them," he said.
"We will find them," Athos told him.
"So that is a no,"
"For now,"
Aramis grit his teeth and bit back the anger spiking at the thought of the men responsible getting away. Reminding himself that it was not his friend's fault he instead asked if they were good to leave. Athos turned and nodded towards the doctor who had his back towards them where he stood by the nurses' station.
"He wasn't happy but I told him we had someone relatively trained for this at home," Athos said, "he was supposed to be getting the discharge papers."
Aramis observed the tall figure that was in deep conversation with the woman dressed in a pristine suit and holding a little girl in her arms. He glanced back at Porthos who had crossed his arms before him and hoped that the doctor would hurry up. The constant white noise of the hospital was grating for the headache he could see in the crease between his friend's furrowed brows.
"Aramis?"
That voice he hadn't heard in years.
He looked up at the approaching doctor and couldn't stop the grin from curling up on his face. The man had grown more angular, thinner than the last time they had seen each other years ago but the dark eyes that met his were sharp as ever.
"George Lemay," Aramis grinned.
It was met with the sour look that this man had always regarded him with but something warm unfurled in Aramis' chest when the doctor shook hands with a vigor matching his own.
"Doctor Lemay," he corrected.
"Always so proper Georgie,"
"It's George," snapped the man.
But the woman beside him smiled and stepped forward to shake hands with Aramis.
"Sophie," she said, "Georgie's wife, this is our daughter Beth."
Completely ignoring the irritated tsk from her husband she looked from the doctor to Aramis, who was crossing his eyes at the giggling little one in the woman's arms.
"You're the Aramis? The one El talks about?"
As much as it was fun to tease Lemay, Aramis couldn't help but glance at the man at the mention of his little sister. She had been the reason their hostility had turned to friendship after all even if the circumstances weren't good at the time.
"Yes Sophie this Aramis," Doctor Lemay said, "no need to inflate his ego."
"How is El?" Aramis asked.
"She's a teacher now and happily engaged to be married," the dark eyes softened and there was almost a hint of smile on the doctor's face, "nothing keeps her from going to the range once a week though,"
"She has a gift,"
"That will someday cost her a limb,"
Aramis laughed.
"That was you actually, shooting your own foot,"
"At least I get to keep the proof of your horrible suturing."
Aramis rolled his eyes and waved away the jibe at his skills. He nodded towards his friends who had been staring at the side of his head in blatant curiosity. More than half the time that George Lemay had been a part of his life had been during the time his friends had taken up radio-silence and the last year of his student life with the doctor had been an emotional rollercoaster. The crash and burn after that hadn't spared them a moment to swap stories among the three of them so Aramis was not surprised by the waves of snooping interest he could feel coming from his friends.
"My friends Athos and Porthos here; are they free to go?" he asked.
Doctor Lemay looked down at the papers in his grasp and then back at the two men. Aramis caught the glint in his eyes when they met his own. Of course anyone in his life would know about the two men who were his brothers in everything but blood.
"I've heard a lot about you," Lemay said, "imagined you two to be bigger somehow,"
Athos' eyebrows reached up to his hairline and even Porthos sat forwards.
"I assure you we hadn't meant to disappoint." Athos said.
"No, you never did," Lemay nodded.
Aramis bit back a wince. He had forgotten that Lemay blamed these men for the eventual change in his career. Although he hadn't met them, the doctor hadn't been happy with Athos and Porthos when last he had met Aramis.
"Well I have to be heading out," Sophie spoke up; she turned to her husband and deposited the child in his arms, "El said she will pick Beth up in an hour. It was nice to meet you Aramis, you should come over sometimes."
Aramis could only smile and nod as Sophie departed and he silently thanked her quick intervention. Because it left the doctor focused on his daughter and he readily handed the papers to Aramis.
"I shouldn't have to remind you this but keep an eye on him," Lemay nodded towards Porthos, "Mildly concussed is still concussed."
"Of course," Aramis shook hands with the man, "I'll see you around and you too Beth,"
He was surprised when Lemay grasped his forearm before he could pull away.
"You know where I work and where I live," said the man before he turned away.
He was still wondering about the invitation when Porthos cleared his throat from where he sat. Feeling unreasonably like a guilty child Aramis turned to his friends with a shrug. He went over to Porthos and helped the man up to his feet.
"When my head isn't trying to kill me, I'd like to know about this Lemay," said his friend.
"And why does he looks at us like we've insulted him," Athos added.
"Until then I'll be taking this one home," Aramis said.
He steadied Porthos where he stood swaying a little and handed his helmet and keys to Athos. They would be taking a taxi.
"Go home to mine," Athos said, "I'll ask Flea to bring Mercury there."
Aramis nodded, Athos was the only one who lived on the ground floor. It would be better for Porthos' nausea to avoid stairs and elevators. He was surprised when it was Porthos who groaned in protest at the idea.
"I was gonna bake a pizza for us tonight,"
"You can do that when I get back from SAVOY," Aramis assured him, "that would be something to look forward to."
He rubbed his eyes and squinted at the computer screen. The police had not been happy at the loss of a potential witness that could have been their way in into the jewelry thieves that had apparently left there footprints all over Europe. Athos filtered through the news on the internet, refreshing the page every five minutes to see if any hint of the Mr. Glovere's whereabouts would come his way. He hoped the man would not end up dead but a large part of him was skeptical.
He looked up when the door to the Captain's office opened and the visitor who had been in there for two hours walked out. The broad shouldered man with blue eyes and graying hair marched down the stairs and out towards the lobby. Athos looked back up at the Captain where he stood in the doorway of his office, face pinched in concentration.
The Captain's gaze flicked his way and Athos pushed to his feet. He refreshed the web pages one more time but found nothing new. Plucking the printouts from the machine next to the wall, Athos made his way up to the Captain. He followed the man inside his office and closed the door behind him.
"A new client?" he asked.
"Victor is the son of an old acquaintance," the Captain said, "he had something personal to discuss. Now what do you have on Mr. Glovere?"
Athos placed his report on the desk and the pitiably small list he had come up with.
"His wife remarried a month after the divorce was finalized and he hadn't been in contact with his children for over a decade. The only one he visits is his brother in the nursing home but I doubt they will contact him for any ransom if they are inclined to do so."
"You think the man is as good as dead," it was not a question from Captain Treville.
"He has information about them and is willing to share it with the authorities," Athos said.
His jaw hurt and he clenched it tighter, the pain a welcome distraction from the guilt gnawing at him. Captain Treville sighed as he sat in his chair and ran a critical eye over his agent. Athos could read the worry for him in the older man's eyes.
"Your friend came down to the office this morning," said the Captain, "seemed eager to join us here."
Athos gaze softened despite himself.
"It has been a long time coming," he said.
Captain Treville pulled the list closer and nodded. He laid it over the pile of files at his side and called Serge to take up the job of tracing the news that Athos had been doing. Placing the receiver back he started up his laptop and raised a brow at Athos.
"Go on," he said, "go home; we can handle the monitoring."
Athos did not need to be told twice.
He quickly singed off and headed for his car in the basement. His first stop was to check on Porthos' car at the mechanics and by the time he had extracted all the relevant information concerning the damaged vehicle there was a steady thrum of headache building behind his eyes. Night had set in completely when Athos parked his car behind Aramis' motorcycle and trudged up to the main door.
Silent warmth and dimmed lights greeted him as he entered and locked the door after him. Hanging his coat by the door and toeing off his boots Athos padded into the living room to find Porthos asleep on the sofa. He turned instead towards the kitchen area, the only place that was lit up in his home. Athos sniffed the air as his stomach reminded him of his lack of food consumption.
"The leftovers had evolved into living organisms and taken your fridge as hostage," Aramis did not look up from where he was stirring the sauce, a boiling pot of pasta bubbling happily next to it, "negotiation was futile."
Athos looked into the said appliance and groaned at the surprisingly airy interior.
"You threw out everything,"
"It was turning toxic,"
Athos gave one last baleful look at the empty shelves and closed the door of the refrigerator.
"I had fresh juice in there and yoghurt,"
"The yoghurt was turning into cheese,"
"I had it this morning!"
The wooden spoon turned in his direction like a dagger and Aramis' eyes narrowed at him.
"Alright, I tried it this morning and had meant to throw it out,"
Aramis nodded and shut off the heat under the sauce. Athos went to his room for a change of clothes and came back to set the table. He knew his friend wanted to know if the men responsible of the accident were apprehended and appreciated the restraint that would mean he would have to explain everything only once. It was something that was addressed the moment Porthos had settled in at table.
He frowned as Athos laid out all his findings, or lack thereof.
"So no lead on them whatsoever," Porthos said.
"Detective Leon is working on the case; he said he would call if something turns up,"
"When," Aramis said.
Athos shrugged a shoulder.
"I don't know when,"
"I meant when something turns up, not if,"
Porthos stopped pushing the food around in his plate and grinned.
"Always hoping eh?"
"Someone has to," Aramis said, "and quit mashing the pasta, just eat it already."
Porthos stabbed a piece of chicken and raised it to eye level.
"Is this from Athos' fridge?" he asked, "because I need to know if I'm consuming mutated poultry."
Athos rolled his eyes even as Aramis raised his fork in solemn oath that he hadn't let any suspicious creature from Athos' fridge close to the food they were eating. It still didn't stop Porthos from catapulting the piece of chicken at Aramis.
Athos looked away from the football rerun and glanced at the wall clock when Aramis decided to head home. It was nearing midnight and Athos looked to the form slumped on his sofa. He found it strangely reassuring that Porthos didn't even pretend to consider that he should be doing the same. The big man simply stood up and grabbed Aramis in a bear hug, promising to bake him a pizza when he got home.
"And try not to get hit on your head while I'm gone," Aramis said.
He pushed his friend to sit back down and guided him to lie on his side on the sofa.
"Got a hard head," Porthos muttered.
"No need to keep testing it," Athos reminded him.
He looked to Aramis and felt the corner of his own lips turning up at the smile he found there. With a shake of his head he grabbed the blanket that had landed on the floor and draped it over their friend as Aramis stepped back. Making sure that Porthos was comfortable and halfway asleep, he followed Aramis out into the night.
As he neared the road a tremble coursed through his body that had nothing to do with the cold. An inexplicable tightness in his chest had him reaching out to grab his friend's arm; an absurd fear that the night will snatch his friend away curled in his gut. Dark eyes turned to him with expectation and Athos suddenly found the words stuck to his throat.
"Be careful out there," he said.
Aramis' gaze softened.
"It's like Porthos said; mostly a camping trip,"
Athos knew that, but for some reason his fingers remained twisted in his brother's sleeve. He stood rigid, alert for a reason he could not really identify. But it fell away when Aramis wrapped his arms around him in an embrace. Athos cursed the sudden sting in his eyes and the desire to hold on his brother a while longer.
Aramis was smiling as he pulled back.
"You owed me a goodbye hug," he said by the way of explanation.
"I'd rather take a welcome back hug,"
The words echoed back to the day after their final A'levels exam, to the moments when the three of them had went their separate ways at the airport. They had had this same conversation then and it had been three years when they had met again for a hurried weekend wedding, and another year before they had gotten together once more. Athos felt something sink in his stomach at the memory and forced his attention back to the present when the sound of throttle cut the air.
Aramis was on his motorcycle, the helmet already on his head although the visor was pulled up.
"See you in a few days," he grinned, flipped the visor close and with a mock salute he pulled out onto the road.
Athos shivered and wrapped his arms around his middle. He tamped down the desire to call his friend back and stood staring at the empty street long after the man was gone.
TBC
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