Thank you for all the kind words awesome reviews! I am SO happy you guys found last chapter funny and are so far enjoying my work! Special love and hugs to all of you because I've been having the WORST week (save an awesome boyfriend I'm going out with on Friday x YAAY) and you all cheered me up and made me smile even when I've been feeling all down and mopey and haven't been productive at all and its all a bit pathetic for someone like me. So, thank you x Have a lovely week and please review x

The Bar Brawl

Athos swallowed down another mouthful of bittersweet wine, the rim of the bottle cool against his lips and the neck warm under his hand as he tipped his head back. He sat alone at a rickety wooden table, concealed by the shadows in the darkened corner of the inn. The energy was beginning to die down, the last of the drunks staggering and stumbling through the door into the icy chill of the autumn midnight. The last of the working girls was giggling loudly as she dragged her latest customer upstairs to the rooms, the man pawing at her breasts and tugging at her skirts with a drunken mewl. A few tables away were six men were playing cards, the largest cackling as the youngest man with tanned skin cursed and handed over his bet.

"Why am I so bad at this game?" d'Artagnan cried in anguish, as the pot-bellied gentleman named Gerard leaned over with a smug sneer to snatch up his winnings.

Aramis offered a sympathetic frown as he patted the younger man on the shoulder "It's just not your game, d'Art. You lose some, you win some."

"Easy for you to say! You've won one hand at least and Porthos almost always wins."

Porthos chuckled lowly at the beaten look on d'Artagnan's face and knocked the tankard beside the Gascon's hand "It also might have something to do with the drink."

D'Artagnan huffed angrily, cheeks red and flushed as he swayed a little on his stool and Aramis had to reach over and grab his arm to steady him. The three other men around the table laughed at the drunken antics of the younger man, Gerard shuffling the cards steadily.

"I think the boy's all but done for tonight. Can't hold much drink, the lightweight."

Athos knew that to be entirely untrue since the young Musketeer had asked for at least two more rounds than anyone else but the low-life thugs that frequented this rather unsavoury inn—the type Porthos seemed to be attracted to, 'for the excitement' he said—were rather proud and arrogant it seemed. D'Artagnan grabbed the tankard once more, tipping his head back to drain the cup before slamming it back on the table.

"See," the young Musketeer stated in a cocky slur even as he almost knocked the empty cup off the table as he raised his inelegant limbs and Porthos had to catch it with quick reflexes and an exasperated roll of his eyes.

"Right," Aramis stood up with a weary sigh "I think that's enough for you, my friend. We don't want you to bet away all your money when you're barely conscious."

"One more round." d'Artagnan hiccupped pathetically, tugging his arm from Aramis' lazy group to fall back against the table and almost fell off the seat again making the men around them snigger harder and Porthos shake his head.

Aramis sighed in resignation before dropping back into his seat "Fine. Just don't complain to me tomorrow when you wake up broke and with a terrible hangover."

"Deal." d'Artagnan ignored the Spaniard and leant heavily against the table as he met Porthos' eyes and Gerard passed the cards over to the other man to deal.

The cards flew from Porthos' hands with practised ease; sliding across the wood polished by wear to each participant till finally they were all sat with cards in hand. The corner of Aramis' eyes were wrinkled with disappointment, the other two men also bearing signs of misfortune on their all-too –readable faces and even Porthos appeared slightly disheartened though he covered it more easily and Gerard looked even smugger than he had the round before. D'Artagnan however was smiling behind his hand, an obvious expression written all over his body language even as he tried to cover it with weak nonchalance.

"Tell you what, I'll make this interesting.' d'Artagnan's voice was obnoxiously loud, a terrible indicator of his confidence and glee and Athos winced at the crassness to his tone "Since it's my last hand, I'm going all in."

The rest of the table, sans a very pleased Gerard, were staring at him incredulously as the Gascon shoved what remained of his pile into the centre and sat back with his arms folded across his chest.

"D'Artagnan!" Aramis kept his voice just below a shout in disbelief "What in God's name are you thinking?!"

"Let the boy make his own mistakes." Gerard interrupted before the Gascon could yell at Aramis again.

"But-"

"Go, 'Mis." Porthos broke him off quietly, an unreadable expression on his face "We ain't gonna talk 'im out of it. You tried."

Aramis sat back with a defeated slump of his shoulders as he tossed his cards to the table "I fold."

D'Artagnan's grin widened as the other two men folded in turn, deciding the stakes were too high until Gerard sat forward, pushing his significant winnings into the centre of the table

"I'll accept your bet, boy."

Porthos raised an eyebrow at the other man before relenting with a cool shake of his head and a snap of his cards on the table "Out."

With a sneer and barely concealed glee Gerard lay his hand across the table. Three jacks and two tens; a full house. Aramis groaned as his covered his eyes with his hand and Porthos managed a sharp curse, Gerard's yellowed teeth bared in challenge as d'Artagnan's face fell.

"That's a good hand." d'Artagnan said dumbly, eyes glancing down to his own cards as Gerard laughed and reached over to snatch up the money "But…"

Everyone froze as d'Artagnan calmly placed his hand on the table and looked up to face Gerard with a grin. The Ace, King, Queen, Jack and Ten of Hearts lay flat on the table, a royal flush gleaming maliciously in the candlelight.

"…mine's better."

"That-that's impossible." Gerard stuttered, the colour drained from his face, making him look old and pale before it began to darkened to a raging purple "You cheated!"

The entire inn went deadly quiet as Gerard's chair fell back with a loud crash and d'Artagnan sat watching his with the same victorious grin.

"You cheated!" the man repeated as stood looking down at the young Gascon and d'Artagnan morphed into the picture of innocent, all big-wet doe eyes and a wounded expression. Athos was wont to believe him too as he, Aramis and Porthos rose from their chairs.

"I assure you, monsieur, that I would never do such a thing."

Gerard did not look convinced though as he lunged over the table with the realisation he had been played "Liar!"

D'Artagnan dodged nimbly backwards, with the skill of a most-definitely sober man, as the table tipped over and suddenly the entire inn erupted in chaos with punches flying and furniture breaking and people being drowned in money. Men tumbled over one another, shouting and tearing at everyone's clothing as d'Artagnan fled a furious Gerard, Porthos held off at least five men and Aramis—confirming Athos' suspicions that the entire game had been rigged between the three Musketeers—scooped up all their winnings into a purse and darted toward the back door on the inn. Athos dodged a drunken punch with a slight tilt of his body, rolling past the random patrons toward the door, taking an idle gulp of the last few drops before smashing the empty container across the back of another thug's head as he moved to smack Porthos with a chair in his distraction.

"Porthos!" he ordered and the large Musketeer spun round, three men clinging to his arms and back, the smile fading slightly as he reluctantly sighed and casually shook the men from his limbs before following Athos into the street where d'Artagnan was just disappearing around a corner at the end of the street, Gerard a few metres behind him as he tried to lose his tail. Athos watched his disappear before turning to the dishevelled Porthos, breathing heavily from excitement and adrenaline, rampant curls even more unruly than usual.

"Where did you all arrange to meet this time?"

"Your house. It has the most beds. And wine to celebrate."

Athos sighed and began walking determinedly in the direction of his apartment "Just once, could you three please tell me when you are planning a bar brawl."

"We didn't plan to be in a bar brawl." Athos raised an eyebrow "Okay, maybe we were hoping for one, but the point was to teach d'Art how to win at cards."

"At least you can do something right."

"Hey!"