A/N: Thank you Haro kzoids, pallysAramisRios, and SnidgetHex for reviewing!

Summary: Why you shouldn't take your baby dragon to work. Or, more importantly, why d'Artagnan shouldn't bring her into Captain Treville's office.

Set in early season 2 when Ayelet was just a wee thing.

"Adventures in Babysitting"

D'Artagnan sat at the table in the garrison yard, pistol laid out so he could give it a good clean and oiling and make sure the flints were still in top condition. Aramis's many lectures recited in his head, walking him through each step of the process.

"D'Artagnan!"

He paused in his work and looked over to find Jean coming toward him, Ayelet held securely in his arms. D'Artagnan quickly stood, gun forgotten. "Is everything all right?"

As a new dragon parent, he knew he was prone to a bit of over-worrying, something his friends liked to tease him endlessly about.

"Yes, yes," Jean replied, adjusting his grip as Ayelet craned her neck around curiously. "But I've been summoned to the palace, and Constance is out on errands, so I'm afraid you'll have to watch Ayelet until I return."

"Oh, okay." D'Artagnan stepped forward and took the little dragon from his father-in-law. He was technically on duty, so bringing his baby dragon to the garrison wasn't exactly proper, but he wasn't scheduled to stand on parade at the palace or do any rigorous training in the yard, so he figured he could get away with it. As long as Jean returned promptly.

D'Artagnan looked around the yard as Jean left and decided to take Ayelet into the Musketeer common room, away from all the much larger dragons outside, some of whom were giving her piqued looks. The other reason d'Artagnan hadn't brought Ayelet around before was he feared she'd get squashed by the adult dragons.

"Well, look who we have here," Aramis said, sitting up straighter at the back table where he'd been reading his Bible.

Porthos was there as well, picking at a cluster of grapes on a plate. "Hey there, little missy," he greeted Ayelet. "You hungry?" He picked up a grape and held it out to her nose for her to sniff.

"She will bite your fingers," d'Artagnan warned.

Porthos retracted the grape a few inches, but still held it up for Ayelet to see. He moved it side to side slowly, her gaze intently tracking it. Then he tossed the grape up in the air toward her and she tried to catch it with her mouth—and failed. The grape bopped her on the nose and went bouncing across the wood floor.

Porthos grimaced. "Sorry."

Ayelet squawked indignantly and began to squirm in d'Artagnan's arms so she could scamper after the offending item.

Aramis scooped it up and brought it back over, holding out his palm flat with the grape in the center. Ayelet snuffled it vigorously before snaking out her tongue to grab it. She chomped down, and juice dribbled down her chin to stain d'Artagnan's sleeve.

Aramis grinned. "What's the occasion?"

"Jean was summoned to the palace and Constance is out," d'Artagnan explained. "There's no one else to watch her. I'm hoping we can just hide out in here for a bit until one of them gets back."

Aramis shrugged. "I don't see why not."

The door creaked open, and they all flicked their gazes toward it.

Athos stood on the threshold, his blank expression regarding the three of them plus dragon for a beat before he said, "Treville wants to see us."

"Ah," Aramis said. "So much for that."

D'Artagnan grimaced. "All four of us?"

"Yes."

He glanced at Ayelet. He supposed he didn't really have much of a choice; he definitely couldn't leave her unattended in here. "Alright."

Making sure he had Ayelet's forelegs wrapped securely in one hand so she couldn't go leaping out of his arms, d'Artagnan followed the others up to Treville's office.

The captain didn't look up as they entered, not until they'd come to stand in a row in front of his desk. And then when he did glance up, he stilled at the sight of Ayelet and shot d'Artagnan a look.

"Jean and Constance are out," he explained apologetically.

Treville made a long-suffering head shake and proceeded to tell them about an upcoming mission.

D'Artagnan was having difficulty listening, however, because Ayelet was getting squirmy. She'd wiggled herself out of his hold and climbed up onto his shoulder. He tried to tug her back down, but she squeaked and darted across the back of his neck to the other shoulder, tiny claws nicking at his skin through his clothes. He finally plucked her off and set her on the floor so he could at least listen to the rest of the briefing. The room wasn't that big and the door was closed, so she should be fine for a few minutes.

But then the next thing d'Artagnan knew, she was climbing up the grated screen between Treville's desk and bed in the corner.

Athos leaned his head forward just enough to shoot d'Artagnan a disapproving glare.

He cleared his throat and mumbled an apology as he reached to pull Ayelet off the screen. She squawked in protest and began to flap her wings. She couldn't fly, but all her flailing managed to topple the entire screen, which happened to have Treville's weapons belt and armor breastplate hanging on the other side. Everything went crashing to the floor with a resounding clang.

Ayelet shrieked at the raucous noise and went scrabbling across the grate and leaping onto Treville's desk, her nubby feet and thwacking tail skittering through papers.

"D'Artagnan!" the captain barked.

Aramis and Porthos both lunged in an attempt to apprehend the baby dragon, but she scrambled backward away from them…right off the edge of the desk to land with a plop on the floor.

D'Artagnan hastily scooped her up into his arms again, looking her over for injury. But she seemed fine, if not a little discombobulated.

Turning around, he took in the mess she'd made of Treville's office, not just the downed furniture, but papers had been strewn across the floor. D'Artagnan grimaced apologetically.

His friends stood around looking awkward. Porthos rubbed the back of his neck and kept his gaze averted while Aramis winced in sympathy. Athos, of course, was unreadable as usual.

"If I may continue?" Treville said tersely.

D'Artagnan cleared his throat. "Yeah, sorry."

And then Ayelet sneezed. It wasn't even a very loud one, but a small burst of flame erupted from her nostrils along with it. D'Artagnan froze with her in his arms. Oh no.

Treville looked ready to explode steam of his own. "Get her out of here before she sets any official documents on fire," he snapped.

"That is one way to deal with paperwork," Aramis commented.

Treville rounded on him, and the marksman beat a hasty retreat along with d'Artagnan, the two of them quickly exiting the office and heading downstairs.

"I should have faked an illness and just stayed at the compound with her," d'Artagnan said with a sigh.

"Note to self for next time," Aramis replied.

"D'Artagnan," Athos called from the balcony above.

They both stopped to look up at him.

"Perhaps you should wait for Bonacieux to return at the dragon compound."

D'Artagnan winced. "Yeah, thanks. And sorry again."

Athos just nodded and turned to go back inside Treville's office.

D'Artagnan turned to head to the compound next door. "Uh, Aramis, if you wouldn't mind, I left my pistol on the table…"

Aramis glanced toward the item, not even reassembled after the cleaning d'Artagnan had been in the middle of. He rolled his eyes, albeit good-naturedly, and waved d'Artagnan off. "Yes, I'll take care of it."

"Thank you," he said earnestly.

He then quickened his pace to get Ayelet back into a safer, baby dragon proofed environment.

She craned her neck to look up at him and gurgled.

He shook his head fondly. "I'm probably going to be mucking the stables for a month because of that," he told her, not that she could fully understand yet.

In response, she nipped at the collar of his jacket, and d'Artagnan sighed.

Being a dragon dad was a full-time job.