A/N Oh my! Lots of lovely reviews, and very quickly too! I've written this chapter pretty quickly in response, so please forgive any errors.

Thank you NavigatorNami85, Awesome-Sauce-Eater (nice to see you back!), Mazcotmaker, obh614 (the ending of this chapter is a gift for you...), Little Sulky Void (thank you!), fariedragon, Dani Malfoy Granger (the ending is for you too...), Annerizu-san (lots more interaction in this one, promise!) and kitkat84! I really do appreciate you taking the time to let me know how I'm doing. Hopefully you'll enjoy this one too!

Banana x

Chapter 11

She let her arms slowly creep around him until she was holding him back. She buried her head into his shoulder, taking the opportunity to be as close to him as she possibly could. To her surprise he didn't move away. He just held onto her, keeping her still as she continued to catch her breath.

They stayed like this until the door opened softly, but even then he didn't let go of her completely. She didn't move her head from where it was pressed into his neck but she felt his head twist round above her to look at the door.

"It's done. The captain wants to see you." Aramis' voice came into the room softly. She felt Athos nod above her, and then heard the door close quietly.

"D'Artagnan," he began to loosen his hold on her and she followed suit. "I have to go, but I will be back as soon as I can. Are you alright for now?"

She pulled back from him completely and nodded. She watched his face carefully, looking for any sign of what he was feeling, but he was staring at her neck, a look of cold fury filling his face. Without saying anything else he stood and walked from the room.

She couldn't stop the grin that spread over her face as he left. He didn't hate her! No matter how angry she had made him, or now hurt he had been, she now had proof that he cared. She was going to hold onto this moment for a long time. She didn't expect she'd see another like it, not unless she nearly died again, and she didn't particularly want to do that.

Quickly, she pulled her shirt from her trousers and reached up underneath it to loosen the bandage that wrapped around her chest and as still stopping her from taking a deep breath. Pain hit her sharply when her lungs were finally free and she filled them with a gasp. She forced herself to keep breathing deeply, the pain lessening with every exhale.

A knock at the door startled her, but she called out a welcome to whoever it was, then smiled at Porthos and Aramis as they both stuck their heads into the room with a grin. She welcomed them with a gesture and pulled herself back to sit against the wall at the head of the bed she was still resting on. Porthos pulled over the stool from the corner of the room and placed it and himself next to the bed. Aramis, with slightly less delicacy, threw himself onto the bed beside her, lounging across it and leaning against the wall that ran along its length.

"That's gonna hurt like hell for a bit," Porthos said.

"What is?" she asked. Her voice was raspy.

Aramis chuckled. "That. And your actual throat, it looks bruised already."

Her hands moved to her neck and sure enough the flesh was tender. That must have been what Athos had been staring at, such anger in his face. Another sign that he cared.

"What are you smiling at?" Aramis poked her in the leg and she quickly rearranged her face.

"Nothing."

"Are you alright? He didn't hurt you anywhere else?" Porthos' eyes roamed over her, looking for some sign of hidden injury.

"No, he didn't," she shook her head. "I'm alright."

"Did he know, you know, about you?"

Her head shook again. "He called be 'boy' a few times, so I think we're safe. What happened to him? Actually, just what happened with everything?"

She sat comfortably and listened while her big brothers took it in turn to fill her in on the events of the day, starting from the beginning of the contest.

Treville had bested Labarge easily with pistols, which only made the brute angry. When it came to swords, he didn't play fairly and managed to catch the captain on the arm with a sly shot. When the captain appeared unable to go on, Athos had stepped in as his second, and had beaten Labarge at his own game. For a second, as Athos stood above Labarge with his sword poised in triumph over him, Aramis claimed that it looked as though the musketeer was going to make it a fight to the death, but after a moment he had stepped back, and Aramis and Porthos had taken him into custody, locking him up securely before heading back to the captain and Athos.

D'Artagnan jumped in eagerly when they said they could not understand how he had gotten out, remembering suddenly of this 'admirer' Labarge had spoken of, and ignoring the sinking feeling she got when she realised that this was something else they would now need to deal with.

"It's how he knew I was here as well, he said this woman told him where to find me."

"No mention of who she was, or why the interest?" Aramis asked.

She shrugged and all three of them shared a glance of concern.

"Then what?"

They would come back to this mystery later.

"Then it was time to leave, after the king had gone over every detail of events in excited detail, and that's when we found Labarage was missing."

Porthos explained that they had found his cell empty, and two guards out cold nearby. One of them was missing a pistol. They quickly established that a horse had also gone missing, and quickly mounted to set off after him.

The picture Porthos painted was vivid. As they were leaving to follow him, Aramis had asked where they thought he might go. Athos' face had gone ashen as he had whispered her name, and all four of them had instantly spurred their horses on and rode to the barracks as fast as they could, Athos leading the charge.

When the four of them had ridden into the yard they had seen her instantly, wilting, eyes closed and choking around the hand that Labarge had pressed against her throat. Aramis had immediately lifted his pistol and taken a shot at Labarge, hitting him in the shoulder and forcing him to drop her. Porthos had run at him and grabbed him, twisting him away from her as Athos had bolted to her side, lifted her unconscious body and run up the stairs to move her from harm's way.

Labarge had been overcome fairly quickly by Aramis and Porthos, while the captain had headed into the mess, yelling for musketeers.

"Is he dead?"

"He is."

"Which one of you got the bastard?"

The two musketeers grinned at each other. "We both did."

Two swords at the same time. He hadn't stood a chance.

"The captain appeared again just as we finished him. He was furious, but mostly that no one had been there to help you," Aramis finished their tale.

D'Artagnan shrugged, not willing to blame anyone for what had happened other than Labarge himself. "Everyone was busy. It was all very quick, and very quiet. Nobody's fault."

Aramis grinned at her. "You may have to work hard to convince the captain of that."

"And Athos," added Porthos.

She blushed at his words, but ducked her head to hide it from them. She still couldn't quite believe the way he had held her, or the description of him running to her and lifting her away from danger, leaving the fight to the others. She was trying not to get carried away with her thoughts of what it might mean he could possibly feel for her. She was trying to not kid herself.

"So what of this woman then?" Porthos asked, after a few moments of silence.

Relieved at the change of subject, d'Artagnan lifted her head and looked at him eagerly. "I have no idea. I can't think who it could be. Labarge just said she had some sort of obsession with me."

Aramis laughed. "She might get a fright if she gets too close."

She leaned forward and cuffed him round the back of the head, laughing at him. "No, no I don't think it's like that, well not entirely. According to Labarge she's 'obsessed', but also very interested in my relationship with the three of you." She shrugged.

Neither of them could anything that resembled an answer to the puzzle.

"Oh, he also said that she set him free knowing that he was coming to try and kill me."

Porthos and Aramis both suddenly had deep frowns on their faces.

"We need to get Athos.," Porthos got to his feet suddenly, moving towards the door, but was beaten to it when it opened from the outside and Athos entered.

He took one look at the faces of his fellow musketeers and frowned. "What's going on?"

Aramis spoke casually, without moving from his position on the bed. "It would appear that one of the four of us has an enemy."

"More likely, one of the three of us," Porthos added.

"Another one?" Athos asked dryly, entering the room and closing the door. His eyes flickered to Charline, once more alighting on her neck, before he dragged the other stool over and sat beside Porthos.

"This one led Labarge to d'Artagnan," Porthos looked at her sadly while he spoke. She smiled weakly back at him.

"What do you mean?" Athos' voice was suddenly sharp, and he was looking at her for an explanation. Quickly, she gave him the same information she had shared with the others.

"Shit. One of us then. Or all of us." Athos lifted his head to look at the ceiling in frustration.

Aramis answered her confused expression. "If she has an interest in your relationship with us but sent him here to kill you, then evidently hurting one or all of us was the aim of this little incident."

How did she keep doing this? How did she keep making life so difficult for these men? Her face must have shown her despair, because Aramis' hand was suddenly resting on the knee that was bent up beside where he was lounging.

"Not your fault. And not the first time one or more of us has pissed someone off so much," he smiled at her.

"Really?" she smiled back, trying to joke with him. "Have you jilted someone lately? Rejected some dangerous lady, heaven forbid?"

He cuffed her knee the same way she had done to his head earlier and rolled his eyes at her.

"This is going to take some time to work out. Perhaps a fortnight out of Paris may help?"

"What, are you going to take us all to your château for a holiday Athos?" Porthos nudged him, grinning, but d'Artagnan saw how the man flinched at the reminder of his former home. He hadn't yet told either of them anything about that night.

She also noticed that he avoided catching her eye as he ignored Porthos' question.

"The Queen is to take some time in the country and has asked for an escort. She asked for us specifically, in fact, so we are to accompany her as of tomorrow," he looked at d'Artagnan. "I have asked that d'Artagnan be allowed to accompany us, and the captain agreed."

He smiled at her slightly, which she answered with a smile of her own. Some time alone with them could be just what she needed to show him that he had nothing to fear from trusting her again.

"Excellent," said Aramis. "A little time away from Paris could give us some time in safety, to try and work out who the hell this person could be."

"And some time to concentrate on d'Artagnan's training," grinned Porthos.

Fantastic. The intense training sessions they like to put her through were always exhausting, and always left her bruised and sore.

But she was relieved to know that they still planned to train her, despite the knowledge that she would never be a musketeer.

"Looking forward to it," she said, grinning back at him.

"Come on, it's late," said Athos, standing up.

Aramis practically leapt from the bed. "Drinks gentlemen? I think we should toast the end of Labarge, don't you?"

Porthos agreed eagerly, but d'Artagnan shook her head. "Not tonight Aramis. I just want to get home I think, forget this day ever happened."

"Are you sure?" Porthos was looking at her in a way that told her this was not the question he wanted to ask, so she answered the one that wasn't asked.

"I'm fine Porthos, honestly. I'm just tired." She smiled at them all reassuringly as they all looked at her with the same concern on their faces. She rolled her eyes when their expressions didn't change. What she really wanted to do was get home and bathe, removing any trace of Labarge from her now throbbing neck. Besides, her voice was still painfully rough, and she was sure she had a few bruises in other places from where he had held her. She wasn't going to tell them any of that, not with Aramis in such a buoyant mood. She would get enough teasing from him on their journey out of Paris.

Athos rescued her. "Not too late a night please, we leave first thing for the palace."

"Are you not coming?" Aramis asked from the door, which he and Porthos had already reached.

"Not tonight," Athos shook his head. "There is preparation to be done."

"Suit yourself," shrugged Aramis, before he and Porthos bid them a cheerful goodbye and headed out.

D'Artagnan suddenly realised she was still seated on the bed, in a room alone with Athos, when he turned to look at her. Blushing slightly, she clambered off the bed gracelessly until she was standing before him, trying to ignore his obvious amusement as he watched her.

"Well d'Artagnan," he held out her jacket and hat to her, which she had just realised he had been carrying when he came back into the room. He must have fetched it from the stables where she left it. She smiled at him, feeling slightly fuzzy in the thought that he had spent his time looking for her belongings. "Home?"

She nodded, turning slightly to make a move towards the door, but he got there before her, holding it open as she walked through it, then lengthening his stride to catch her after he closed it and accompany her back down the stairs into the yard. He was treating her like a girl, but she somehow found herself not caring very much at all.

At the bottom of the steps she found came to a sudden stop, her left foot suspended in mid air before it touched the flat of the yard. She saw out of the corner of her eye as Athos stopped as he realised she was no longer beside him, but she was focused on the large, dark patch of ground in front of her. It was still wet.

The place where Labarge had died, she presumed. She couldn't explain what had made her stop, or why she was so reluctant to move. For some reason the sight of his blood, or the wet patch from where a cleanup attempt had been made, had frozen her completely and she couldn't walk any further. She couldn't walk through it, despite knowing how silly she was being.

She could feel Athos watching her calmly, from the middle of the wet patch of ground. "D'Artagnan?" he called on her softly.

She just shook her head, still staring at the ground in front of her and not moving.

She didn't move, in fact, until she suddenly felt a pair of hands clasping her under her arms and lifting her quickly. She looked up to see Athos gazing at her in understanding as he took a few steps, carrying her over the sodden ground and depositing her softly on the other side.

"Better?" he asked as he let her go. She nodded back.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I just, I couldn't. I have no idea why."

"Come on," he said, walking towards the gate, but waiting for her to move and come alongside him before setting the pace. They walked in silence for a few moments; until d'Artagnan pointed out that he was going in completely the wrong direction for his home.

"You are still in shock; I would not be doing my duty as a musketeer if I did not see you home safely."

She snorted at his overly-stiff tone, laughing a little as he turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised.

"Sorry," she said. "Sometimes you take me by surprise with your formal tone, when it appears for no reason."

He turned his eyes away from her and kept walking, making her suddenly aware of how stupidly she had spoken. Everything Athos did always had a reason behind it, and perhaps his sudden changes of tone were more to do with keeping his thoughts private and his emotions in check than anything else.

"So where are we going?" she asked, changing the subject. She noticed that he relaxed instantly beside her. "With the Queen I mean?"

"We'll get our orders when we get to the palace, but I imagine we'll be going South into the country. She usually goes out of Paris at this time of year, combining her charities with a break from the palace."

Charline grinned broadly. A visit to the countryside! It felt an age since she had seen anywhere other than the city or the towns nearby. A couple of months at least.

She began to chatter at Athos, a resounding account of the all the good that the country air would do for them. She was aware that she was talking incessantly, but when she looked at him Athos was smiling to himself, so he obviously had no problem with it.

All too soon the door of the Bonacieux residence was in front of them, and Athos paused as they reached it. She drew herself to a stop, and turned to face him.

"I shall assume that you can make it from here d'Artagnan," he smiled at her.

"I should hope so, otherwise I am no use to the musketeers at all," she smiled back. Inside, her mind was screaming at her, pointing out to her eagerly that they were conversing normally, like friends once more.

"Put a cool cloth on your neck. You must keep the swelling down," he frowned at her injuries yet again.

"I will."

He looked up at her face once more, tipping his hat in jest. "Goodnight, d'Artagnan."

"Goodnight."

She watched him as he walked away from her, and then suddenly couldn't hold her tongue anymore.

"Athos?"

He stopped to look at her.

"Thank you." For saving me, she wanted to add. For carrying me to safety. For caring.

She said none of it, but he looked at her for a few moments, then nodded his head once before turning once more and melting into the shadows of a nearby alley.

It was another full minute before she could pull herself away from where she stood staring after him, until she suddenly realised that with an unknown danger around he was probably standing in the darkness watching her to make sure she was safe. She blushed furiously, spinning around and opening the door quickly, closing it firmly once she was inside.

She allowed herself to lean back against the door, a stupid smile on her face as she indulged for a moment in her fantasies of what she could somehow make Athos feel for her. She remembered waking up in his embrace, the panic in his voice as he commanded her to breathe. She pulled her hat from her head, running her fingers softly into her hair as she closed her eyes and remembered the feel of his strong hands doing the same thing earlier that evening.

Two whole weeks with him; she was hopeful something good would come of it. Even if it was that they returned to Paris as close as they had seemed to be this evening.

Whistling softly, she made her way further into the house to search for a cloth to cool and place on her neck.

Suddenly it felt like the best advice she had ever been given.

A/N Look, no cliffhanger! I nearly did as well, but I changed my mind. ;-)