A/N I realized that in the previous post I forgot to mention that each chapter will be a separate snippet of their lives and that they will be posted in the chronological order in which the events happened. Also, I'm probably cheating D'Artagnan's presence in this but it was too sweet a concept to pass up. Speaking of which, as you have undoubtedly noticed, each chapter will be named based on who meets whom.

Enjoy!

It had been a bittersweet few days for Isaac's family. His father and his musketeer comrades had finally decided to give the life of adventure and fighting a rest and pursue a more quiet family life instead. Personally, Isaac didn't have much understanding for the choice, it's not like his father hadn't been a musketeer for all his life anyway but he partly understood that he felt too old for the job by now. He was ready to pass the torch to his son in a year or two and since his friends were leaving, he decided to retire himself right now too. Well, Isaac didn't exactly mind, it would mean getting more training before he left which was always good. Not that he wasn't a great fighter by now as it was mind.

However, his father was sad as the days grew closer to saying goodbye to some of his closest friends, the men that saved his life on numerous occasions, the men that bled for the King and France alongside him. It was beginning to draw on him that he may never see most of them again. It was only then that Isaac realized just how precious the bond between musketeers really was, just how much they meant to each other and found it difficult to say goodbye. It was a profound realization as up until now, the life of a musketeer to him really was more about the swashbuckling and romance than anything else, no matter what his father told him. But seeing the usually stoic man so sad made a great impact upon his son.

Isaac was thinking about it as he practiced his fencing outside when he heard his parents talking to one of the other former musketeers who was leaving with his wife to his birthplace, Gascony. They visited to say a final goodbye no doubt. Porthos couldn't really remember his name, D'Art-something, he just remembered that he was a smaller man that his father was rather fond of. Putting his sword away, he went inside to join his parents and offer moral support. It was clear that the musketeer's wife was heavily pregnant and would give birth to their child soon; Isaac guessed that that was the reason why they were moving back to Gascony. Currently, she was sitting on a comfortable chair and rubbing her large belly gently, wincing every now and again.

Worried that something may not be right with her, Isaac used the fact that the men were discussing something heatedly while his mother went to order more wine and asked her if she was alright. She smiled up at him and reassured him that everything was ok, that her baby was simply restless and kicking more than usual. She then laughed gently at Isaac' confused face and asked if he would like to feel it. Unsure whether it would be acceptable or not although the offer came from her, he nodded. She took his right hand in hers and rested it palm down on the spot the baby was currently kicking at. Isaac almost jumped when he felt the first gentle kick against his palm and smiled in wonder by the second.

"Ah, I take it that the baby is kicking again? God, I remember when I was carrying you Isaac, there where nights when you just wouldn't let me sleep. Not much has changed since then has it? Well, perhaps your methods..."

Blushing deep red, Isaac pulled his hand away, still remembering the feel of the baby moving around. The pregnant wife laughed again and smiled up at Isaac once more.

"Surely he's only brining you joy these days. Look at him, all grown up and ready to face the world. I'm certain he'll make you both proud."

"Oh he has already. It just won't be the same once he leaves to become a musketeer."

His ears catching the word musketeer, the smaller man joined them, giving Isaac an appraising look.

"Do I hear correctly that you want to join the musketeers young man?"

"Yes sir. It's what I want more than anything else."

"Hmmm, your father taught you how to fight well?"

"Yes sir."

At this, Isaac's chest puffed slightly with pride.

"Well then, I'm glad to know that France will be in capable hands even if we are leaving. Perhaps one day, if God graces me with a son, he will join you and become a musketeer like his father."

Isaac wasn't so sure about it as he would be at least 17 years older than the boy but he nodded politely anyway. Soon, he excused himself thanking the mother-to-be for allowing him to feel the baby kick and went out to practice some more. He would only be in the way of the four who wanted to share their potentially last moments together in peace.