In the days that passed since Constance's visit, the first of several, D'Artagnan improved and was out and about. Several things had since transpired- the most significant of which was that Porthos and Aramis acted as advocates for D'Artagnan to become a Musketeer recruit, prompted by both his analytical skills in helping the two Musketeers formulate together the clues necessary to lead them to Gaudet, then the prowess he demonstrated during the battle with Gaudet's men. Treville was convinced and made it so- it was a low risk proposition- D'Artagnan would receive no wages, and they got the benefit of the young man's passionate commitment.

The other thing was, as a result of D'Artagnan joining the recruits, that the Inseparables themselves began training him.

Athos seemed a bit ambivalent about the entire matter, doing his part to train the boy, but in truth he was a little perplexed in his two friends' enthusiastic embracing of the young Gascon into the fold. It was almost as if he were put out over the fact that that they seemed to ignore that he should get a vote in this shift in their 'threesome' dynamic. Didn't he get a say in whether or not he thought D'Artagnan belonged?

What he hadn't disclosed to anyone was that in truth, ever since he had that moment with the boy, comforting him on his sickbed that day, he felt something that he hadn't felt in a long time. His brotherly, even paternal feelings towards D'Artagnan, he was certain, mostly correlated to his extreme gratitude to the boy helping him not lose his life over this whole Gaudet thing.

But, in truth, Athos was no idiot- he knew why he had been thinking of his brother Thomas so often these last few days.

Perhaps he hadn't made the connection between his recent good mood and D'Artagnan's improving health- he went from being dead, to almost dead, and possibly too weak to recover, to frail and confused, to the now almost completely healthy young man, currently being bandied about by Porthos, but holding his own admirably.

Athos tried to come to terms with other annoying traits that D'Artagnan had begun to demonstrate, as a way to convince himself the boy was more trouble than he was worth- first was his insistence on asking a million questions of the three of them, on topics including but not limited to training. Queries such as "What do taverns with pictures of horses on them mean?", to "have you been inside Notre Dame?", to "does the King ever visit the Garrison? And if so, does he…". These endless questions usually prompt Porthos, Aramis, or (usually) himself to bark out "Oh, for goodness sake, Question, I mean D'Artagnan, slow down and take a breath, would you please?"

The boy also seemed to have an annoying, but genuine interest in each of their personal lives ("Do you have any brothers and sisters? What did you like to do growing up?"), and that really did not sit well with Athos; although Porthos and Aramis didn't seem to mind at all, as it appeared to provide an opportunity for them reminisce on happy times in their past. But of course Athos bristled from any such questions.

But possibly the most annoying of all was that the boy had begun to follow him like an unwelcome shadow. One he had a hard time in shaking; if anything, his future as a Musketeer good at tracking people was assured. He also began to notice the boy not just looking at him, but up to him, akin to his deceased younger brother. It was unnerving.

Supping that evening at the Wren, the topic of the boy came up.

Porthos said, "We forgot to invite the boy along again."

Aramis: "I said to him that I expect he wished to get back to Madame Bonacieux as soon as possible. He just smiled."

"Some men respect the sanctity of marriage," Athos interjected.

Aramis became thoughtful. "Do you think he was waiting for an invitation to join us?"

Sensing that his brother may be feeling a bit guilty, Porthos quickly added, "We can extend the offer to him next time."

That got Athos' goat.

"Isn't it enough that he's coerced himself into the fold during the day with our incessant training? Do we now need to babysit him after hours?"

Porthos and Aramis glanced at each other.

"We just thought that invitin' 'em along after a hard day's training might be the right thing to do," Porthos responded.

They were all taking turns teaching the boy the rules of the Garrison, of being a Musketeer, and of course, as with any recruit, tasking him with the menial chores that any recruit would need to perform in order to earn his keep- stabling the horses, cleaning up, assisting Serge in the kitchen, and running all sorts of errands.

"He's doing so well in his training; Porthos, what about with you? He seems to be keeping up?", Aramis asked.

"Never have to show him a move twice. Great attitude too; he's like a sponge, eager to sop it all up and learn as much as he can."

"His attitude is good. Remember Martin? The recruit from last year?" Aramis asked.

Porthos had to think a moment. "Ah! Martin! Horrible, horrible boy."

Aramis recalled, "He had an excuse for every mistake he ever made. Plus, he thought a bit much of himself. His father was able to afford his commission threefold, and he had a real entitlement issue. Acted as if we could teach him nothing, because he already knew it all."

"The excuses! Yes, I remember once I kicked his ass to the ground, and he said the sun had gotten in his eyes! Another time he accused me of cheatin'! Cheatin'! Me, of all people!" Porthos said with a knowing grin.

Aramis asked Porthos, "What does D'Artagnan do when you kick his ass to the ground?"

Porthos smiled. "He picks himself up, dusts himself off, smiles, and says 'again!'"

"So what you're saying," Athos finally interjected, "is that D'Artagnan compares favorably to the worst Musketeer recruit we've ever had. Hardly a ringing endorsement."

Aramis just smiled and shook his head.

"Hey, what's your problem with D'Artagnan?" Porthos demanded, wanting to know why he seemed to be so resistant to accept the boy, especially in light of the fact that both Aramis and he had both obviously taken to him so easily.

Athos answered in a half-laugh. "I don't have any problems with him." He found himself reluctant to give voice to anything else lest his protective feelings for the boy manifest itself.

Aramis said, "Well, that's good, seeing how the boy is beginning to look up to you. The other day I caught him staring at you training with Porthos, and your sword moves had his gaping at you with his mouth wide open. I told him to watch it or he'd catch flies. He got so red I had to chuckle.

"I'm not saying I don't appreciate the irony, Athos," Aramis continued. "The one man that he comes to Paris to kill, is the one he's now trying to please more than anyone else. The one whose opinion matters to him more than most, the one whose approval he seeks above all others."

"He doesn't. Porthos." Athos swung his gaze to the large man to refute Aramis' words; surely he did not see the same in the boy.

Porthos just nodded yes and said, "All I can say, Athos, is it'd be pathetic if it wasn't so adorable."

Athos usually appreciated the times when Aramis' keen observations about other people's inter-relationships eluded his own; this time, however, it just made him feel even more annoyed and out of sorts.