"Three," Porthos muttered as he lounged across Aramis' bed. His feet were near Aramis' pillow but not on it. Unhappy as he was about being the one to count, he was not in such a foul mood that he would risk his life by putting his boots on Aramis' pillow. His left arm was folded beneath his head while he spun a knife with his right.

"Fou-"

"PORTHOS!" Aramis called and threw the door open.

To say that Porthos was startled would be an understatement. Of course he'd been listening for footsteps or any other sounds that might give some sign as to where his brothers were hiding, but Aramis was an expert at moving silently through the garrison. So when Aramis made his loud entrance when he should have been hiding, Porthos jumped to his feet and nearly threw his knife out of instinct.

"Christ, Aramis," Porthos swore and worked to return his heart rate to normal.

"Were-were you lying on my bed?" Porthos looked very much like a cornered animal. "Were you lying on my bed with your filthy boots by my pillow?! Porthos du Vallon, how many times have I-"

"Aramis," Athos said in that tone of voice that could make a fire forget how to burn.

Aramis took a deep breath, and Porthos knew by the set of his brother's features that he would hear about the pillow later.

"Athos and I realized that we never discussed winning."

"Winning?"

"Yes, winning, as in I stay hidden for so long that you give up and stop looking for me," Aramis informed his dark skinned comrade.

"You really think you can?" Porthos answered with sly grin.

"Porthos, I accept your challenge."

"Wanna make it a bet?"

"Gentlemen," Athos interrupted. "Here's what we will do. Aramis, if you can manage to hide and remain hidden from Porthos until dinner in an hour, you've won. Sound fair?" He looked between them with a look that seemed to say Don't make me regret my choice of game. Each man nodded in turn, and Athos moved to the door. "Porthos, if you would be so kind as to restart the count."

"Oooooooooooooooooooone," Porthos groaned and was tempted to chase after Aramis when the younger man laughed at his dislike for seeking.

- : - : - : - : - : - : -

From the courtyard facing window in his office Tréville watched Athos make his way down the stairs and slip into one of the ground floor corridors. He had laughed when Porthos told him they chose to occupy Aramis by playing hide-and-seek, but the more he considered their game, the more he had a bad feeling about it. He wasn't sure how, but he knew it wasn't going to end well. His feeling was confirmed when movement caught his eye and he saw where Aramis was headed. He brought the palm of his hand to his forehead, pinched the bridge of his nose, and turned away to pour himself an incredibly stiff drink.

- : - : - : - : - : - : -

It was nearly twenty minutes later when, after searching the garrison twice already, Porthos found Athos. The elder Musketeer had managed to squeeze himself into one of the chests lining a few of the halls, and it took a moment for Porthos to help his friend out of the small space.

"How did you get in there?" Porthos asked as they continued on down the hall.

"Honestly, I have no idea," Athos confessed and shook his head. "No sign of Aramis?"

"Uh-uh. Did you see where he went?"

"Porthos, are you asking me to help you cheat?" Athos said with a straight face although his tone bore the slightest hint of a smile.

"I just thought it would be fun to take his pride down a bit."

Athos stopped and studied the bigger man for several seconds. "That does sound wonderful," he admitted. "Unfortunately, I have no idea where he went….perhaps the captain saw him?"

They made their way to Tréville's office and inside found their captain refilling his glass.

"Something I can help you with, gentlemen?" Tréville said without taking his eyes off of his filling glass.

"We were hoping you might help us find Aramis," Porthos stated.

"You want me to help you cheat." Tréville took his now nearly overflowing glass and sat behind his desk.

"Well, yeah," Porthos answered.

"I won't."

"But you know where he is," Athos stated, assuming Tréville's refusal to aid them (not inability, but refusal) and the captain's consumption of what seemed to be at least a second glass of alcohol meant their captain knew exactly where Aramis was and was far from pleased by it.

"When you find him- IF you manage to find him, he's not to leave his room for the next two days."

"That bad, eh?" Porthos chuckled at the thought of Aramis being confined to quarters for two whole days.

"He'll likely be stuck where he is until you can help him," the captain informed them.

Athos sighed and tilted his head back in exasperation. "Porthos, may I suggest a change in plan? Let him hide. Let him win. Then when he realizes he can't get out of whatever he's gotten himself into, he'll have to call for help."

"That doesn't sound like he's won at all," Porthos grinned. "Athos, my friend, I like the way you think."

With that, they left the captain's office and went down to the dining hall content to wait Aramis out.

- : - : - : - : - : - : -

Up on the roof, Aramis smiled to himself. He'd won! He'd heard Athos and Porthos speaking with each other as they crossed the courtyard, so he knew Athos had been found. All he needed to do was make it to dinner time. However, the gentle warmth of the sun after several days spent in his room soon had him drifting off to sleep.

By the time his nap came to an end, the sun had set, and the night was growing cool. Shivering, he decided that, having won, he didn't need to stay on the roof any longer. It wasn't until he'd shimmied to the edge that he realized how great a mistake he'd made in choosing to hide on the roof with a broken arm. Normally getting down would have been easy enough, but he was going to have to swing his weight in order to land on the walk way below. He looked at his arm still secure in its sling and sighed.

All in all his descent was going as well as it could right up until he heard Athos and Porthos in the courtyard below. He cursed, knowing it would only be a moment or so until he was spotted hanging by one arm from the roof.

- : - : - : - : - : - : -

"Athos," Porthos whispered and pointed to where their brother was dangling.

"I'm getting drunk after this," Athos muttered as they headed for the stairs in order to position themselves to catch their idiotic friend.

"Only if I get to join you," Porthos huffed, and Athos nodded his acceptance of Porthos' terms.

"Aramis, what the hell were you thinking?" Athos called as they drew near to him.

"Ummmm, I don't think I was, or at least not this far ahead," Aramis grunted.

"Hang on. We're comin'," sighed Porthos, and just then Aramis' hand slipped.

- : - : - : - : - : - : -

I'm not going to yell. I'm not going to yell. I'm not going to yell, Aramis repeated to himself over and over again as he fell to the courtyard below, and he didn't until he hit the ground and his right leg snapped beneath him. Everything passed in a sort of haze until a great deal of pain medication later.

Captain Tréville, Athos, and Porthos sat near Aramis' bed, but when the captain noticed Aramis' return to wakefulness, he moved to stand over the injured Musketeer.

"Congratulations, Aramis. You've managed to break your leg. No assignments and absolutely no hide-and-seek until that leg is completely healed, understood?"

Aramis quickly glanced at Porthos and Athos who both looked like they were desperately trying to keep from laughing.

"Yes, captain," Aramis said with resignation.

Tréville left the room without another word, and Athos and Porthos moved much closer to Aramis' bed.

"You know, Athos, it'll be much easier to keep him in bed this way," Porthos smirked and shuffled a deck of cards.

"Much easier," Athos agreed.

"I hate you both," Aramis huffed and pulled his blankets over his head.

When his brothers began to laugh, he stuck his left hand out from underneath the blankets and made a very rude gesture which only increased their laughter tenfold.