A/N: Thank you Laureleaf for your review!

Summary: When Aramis and d'Artagnan witness a woman's baby being abducted from her arms, they decide to do everything they can to help get him back.

"A Woman In Need"

"This is a nice moon," d'Artagnan commented. "The terraforming took well here."

Aramis smiled in shared appreciation as he inhaled deeply of crisp, clean air. The forests around them were lush and the mountains in the distance capped with snow. It was nice.

"I once considered retiring to the monastery here," he said as the two of them strolled down the dirt road toward the church that was an hour outside of one of the main towns. Aramis tried to make detours whenever they docked in places near churches.

D'Artagnan quirked a disbelieving look at him. "You, become a Shepherd?"

Aramis shrugged. "It's the vocation my parents wanted for me. And then after Savoy…well, Porthos and Athos wouldn't let me," he said with a grin.

D'Artagnan smiled in return. "I'm glad they didn't."

A woman's scream rent the air, shattering the tranquility. Aramis and d'Artagnan immediately broke into a run, barreling around the back of the church toward the frantic shrieks. Out in the field behind the church, a man had a woman restrained in his arms, a knife to her throat as she screamed and struggled.

"No, Henry! Help me!"

There was a second man placing a baby in a plastic basket, which he quickly slung over his shoulders and went to mount a horse. "Finish her!"

Aramis whipped out his pistol and fired as he vaulted over a low stone wall. His shot struck true and the man fell dead before he could slit the woman's throat.

D'Artagnan drew his gun as well and aimed at the second man, but the other guy shot first and d'Artagnan yelped as his pistol fell from his hand.

"No, Henry!" the woman screamed. "Henry!"

Aramis took aim yet faltered. He was good but couldn't risk hurting the child if the man tumbled off his horse.

D'Artagnan ran toward the second steed of the man Aramis had shot and swung up into the saddle, kicking the animal into giving chase. Aramis watched him go, gritting his teeth as they disappeared into the forest.

He turned around to check on the woman, only to find a knife being waved in his face.

"I swear I'll kill you," the previously distressed damsel snapped. "Who are you?"

He put his hands up. "My name is Aramis and I mean you no harm. You'll note I did shoot the man trying to kill you."

She hesitated for a second, but it was enough for Aramis to deftly pluck the knife out of her hands and toss it over his shoulder. She blinked, stunned.

"Who were those men?" he asked.

She continued to regard him warily as she answered, "I have no idea." Brushing past him, she picked up her pace hurrying toward the church. "Shepherd Duval!"

With a sigh, Aramis followed.

"Shepherd Duval!"

No one responded to the woman's frantic calls as they entered the church. A sanctuary like this was meant to be quiet, but Aramis had a gut feeling prickling at the back of his neck. When shuffling sounded in the office to their left, he quickly shot out a protective arm to hold the woman back. She threw him a look equally dubious and incensed.

But then a man in a preacher's uniform stumbled out, one arm bracing himself against the door jamb while the other hand held the side of his bleeding head.

"Shepherd Duval!" the woman exclaimed, rushing forward.

Aramis was quick on her heels, reaching out to support the older man and guide him back into the office where he could sit. The room had been ransacked, books strewn about and a lamp smashed on the floor. By the flecks of blood, Aramis guessed that was the offending bludgeon.

"Easy, Shepherd," he coaxed, gently pulling the man's hand away from his head so he could examine the wound. Aramis pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to the split scalp. "It's not very deep, but head injuries do tend to bleed a lot. Just keep pressure on it."

Shepherd Duval nodded shakily and turned to the woman. "Agnes, I'm so sorry."

She frowned. "Why? What's happening? Why did men come and take Henry?"

He sighed, his hand dropping away from his head. Aramis gently lifted it back to continue applying pressure.

"Shepherd Duval, do you know who attacked you?" he prompted.

"Not personally, but I know who they work for." He lifted a regret-filled gaze to the woman, Agnes. "Your husband, Philippe, was of the Medici line."

Agnes gaped at him.

"Who are they?" Aramis asked.

"The Medicis rule this moon," Duval explained. "It's a patriarchal structure. The current Baron is the son of Marie de Medici, who is in exile after trying to usurp power from him years ago."

"What does any of this have to do with Henry?" Agnes interrupted.

Shepherd Duval took a breath. "When Marie was pregnant, she became ill on the road and stopped at this church. The birth was difficult, as there were two babies. The first…was deformed."

Agnes frowned. "Philippe?"

Duval nodded. "Marie was horrified. She left the child in our care and swore us to never speak of his existence. The second child was born healthy and whole, and she took him home where he grew up to inherit the baron-ship."

Agnes shook her head in obvious frustration. "I still don't understand what this has to do with Henry."

"Your son is the legitimate heir to the baron-ship," Aramis said, looking at the shepherd. "I assume Marie is the only one who knew?"

Duval hung his head. "I kept her informed as to her son's well-being. I'd hoped…I'd hoped she held some love for him within her heart. But now…"

"Now she wants to use baby Henry as grounds to challenge her other son," Aramis finished.

"That is most likely," Duval said grimly. "The men who came here took the birth and marriage records."

"No," Agnes blurted, tears welling in her eyes. "No. He is my son. They can't just…they can't…"

Aramis instinctively reached out to enfold her in his arms. "I promise I will help you get your son back," he said.

He had no idea how, but that never stopped him. This woman was in need and he could not on his honor abandon her.

"You are stepping into a sordid family history," Duval warned.

"I can handle it," Aramis assured him.

With help, of course.

o.0.o

D'Artagnan had followed the kidnapper all the way back to town, intentionally keeping his distance so he might find a better place to liberate the child, since he couldn't risk a direct confrontation in the woods.

He rode through the streets until the man ahead finally pulled up in front of a ramshackle manor next door to a dye house. D'Artagnan dismounted and crept to the edge of a building and watched through the flapping laundry lines as the man took the baby inside. He caught a glimpse of at least two more men within, which complicated things. He didn't think he was going to be able to rescue the child himself.

He watched and waited for a bit, debating what to do. His wristband comm had been clipped by the kidnapper's bullet and he was unable to contact the ship, and he couldn't leave in case the men decided to move the child.

He finally snagged a young boy off the street. "Hey, I need a message delivered." He reached into his pocket and held up a coin. "Can you do that?"

The boy nodded.

"There's a Firefly class ship parked outside of town on the south end. Tell the captain to meet d'Artagnan at the dye house. Got it?"

The boy nodded and snatched away the coin, then ran off.

D'Artagnan turned back to watching the manor.

o.0.o

Aramis stood in the cargo bay with Athos, Porthos, and Constance, having just explained the situation. Agnes sat on the other end, wringing her hands in her skirts.

"Can't we jus' call the authorities?" Porthos asked.

"And say what?" Aramis replied. "This is technically a family dispute. Not to mention that the authorities would work for the Baron, and if he found out there was a challenger to his rule…" He shook his head. "Agnes has no one else she can turn to."

"And what do you propose we do?" Athos asked blandly. "We have no idea where the child was even taken."

"D'Artagnan was following the kidnapper," Aramis rejoined.

"Yeah, by himself," Constance put in worriedly. "And he hasn't contacted us."

"He'll find them," Aramis said with confidence. "And then we get Agnes's son back and take them far away from this moon, to a planet on the other side of the verse."

Athos and Porthos exchanged reluctant looks.

"We have to help her," Aramis pressed. "We've done this kind of job before. Just because she isn't a paying client doesn't mean we can just walk away. I was at that church today for a reason."

Athos shrugged one shoulder in concession to that, but before they could discuss it further, they were interrupted by a young boy appearing at the ramp and looking for the captain.

"Yes?" Athos said.

"I have a message: Meet d'Artagnan at the dye house."

Aramis smiled in relief at the word from their pilot.

Athos arched a brow. "Is that all?"

"Yup." The messenger boy scampered off.

Athos turned back around. "I'll go meet d'Artagnan then."

"I'll go wit' you," Constance said. She paused by Aramis on her way out and cocked her head toward Agnes. "Try to make her eat something."

As they left, Aramis exchanged a look with Porthos, who just shrugged. With a sigh, Aramis walked over to Agnes.

"Why don't we go up to the kitchen and get some food?" he suggested.

She just sat on the bench, morosely staring at the floor.

"I don't want to have to fight you again," he prompted.

Agnes closed her eyes. "Being apart from him…it's like a wound that won't heal. The pain only gets worse."

Aramis slowly sat down beside her. "He's your flesh and blood," he said sympathetically.

She lifted her gaze to his. "Do you have a family?"

"Not unless you count the crew of the Luciole." Which he did. Theirs was a bond not born of blood but no less strong for it.

Tears welled in her eyes. "Philippe and Henry are my family. But Philippe's gone, and now Henry…" She broke off with a sob.

"What happened to your husband?" Aramis asked gently.

Agnes didn't answer.

"Shepherd Duval said he was…deformed."

Her head snapped up. "Do not judge him," she bit out harshly.

Aramis held up a placating hand. "I do not. Shepherd Duval said Marie de Medici left him in the church's care. How did you meet?"

She studied him with a wary guardedness for a long moment. "I was sent to be his nurse," she finally said. "He'd been locked away so long, he never learned to fend for himself. He was like a helpless child when I first met him." Agnes's eyes turned soft. "But he had the kindest heart I'd ever known. He was shy and confused. Frightened. But full of innocent love and goodness. I was lonely and he was kind. I soon learned to see the beauty of his soul. And I fell in love with him."

Aramis smiled. "That sounds lovely."

She nodded. "We married in Shepherd Duval's church. And when Henry was born, everything was perfect." Her expression fell. "But then there was an accident. Philippe was repairing the roof after some rain damage and fell."

Aramis took her hand as her chest hitched. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"He's still with me," she said, voice cracking, hand fisting in the folds of her blouse against her bosom. "In here. And in Henry." She broke down into sobs.

Aramis shifted closer, trying to offer comfort though there was little that could be given until her son was in her arms again.

"I promise you, on my honor, the safe return of your child," he vowed.

o.0.o

D'Artagnan was growing restless watching the manor. Plus the odors from the dye pools were beginning to give him a headache. He roved his gaze around the street with a huff, only to straighten when he spotted Athos and Constance. He caught their eye and beckoned them over.

"So this is where the baby is?" Athos asked without preamble.

"You've talked with Aramis," d'Artagnan replied.

"Yes."

Constance batted his arm. "Runnin' after kidnappers alone, honestly."

"Hey, I knew what I was doing," he replied with mild affront. "Anyway, I haven't spotted another way in other than the front door, and I don't know which room the baby is in. I did see a woman dressed in finer clothes and another man go in not too long ago, but they left quickly."

"That was probably Marie de Medici," Athos said with an almost resigned air.

"Who?"

"The baby's grandmother."

D'Artagnan furrowed his brow in confusion. "This isn't a normal kidnapping, is it?"

"No. The child is to be used in a power play for the baron-ship of this moon."

He shot a dubious look between Athos and Constance. "Okay… Are we going to do anything about it?" he asked carefully.

Athos sighed. "Aramis made a promise to the mother."

Constance rolled her eyes. "Of course we're going to. We just have to…figure out what."

They turned their attention to watching the manor for a few minutes, though it wasn't like anything new was going to present itself.

"I have an idea," Constance suddenly said.

Or not. D'Artagnan arched a questioning brow at her.

"The baby needs to feed," she said. "I just need some formula and I can get in the front door."

D'Artagnan frowned skeptically. "I don't know, sounds dangerous."

"Do we have any better ideas?" she countered.

"I hate to say it," Athos interjected. "But no."

o.0.o

Constance drew in a deep breath and fiddled with the handle of the basket in her arms, fighting back nerves as she prepared herself to approach the manor.

"We need to know which room the baby's in," Aramis said. "And how many men there are."

She nodded. She could do this. It was her idea to begin with. And her entire crew would be right outside ready to come storming in as soon as she conveyed the information.

Agnes worried at her lip. "He likes music. If he cries, sing him a lullaby."

"Will humming do? My singing might frighten him," Constance tried to joke. It didn't really work.

"Then give him this." Agnes handed over a crocheted blanket. "Tell him I love him."

She nodded.

"Be careful," d'Artagnan whispered in her ear.

Constance was too nervous to give a retort. She steeled herself and walked across the road, up to the front door, and knocked.

It swung open almost immediately and a gruff looking man holding a rifle frowned at her. "What do you want?"

Time to sell it.

"I'm here with the baby's formula."

"Formula?" he repeated dubiously.

"Yeah, for feeding a baby."

He continued to look at her in confusion. Honestly, men.

"Should I leave it with you?" she asked, lifting the basket. "You know how to warm it and make sure it's the right consistency and not burn the wee one's mouth?"

"Uh…"

"This is the right house, isn't it?" she rambled on. "I'm pretty sure I got the address right. Oh no, if the baby misses its feeding, it'll get right cranky real quick."

The man's face twisted into a scowl. "Get in here." He gestured sharply with his weapon.

Constance didn't argue and kept her head down, eyes flicking surreptitiously around to count the number of men: two on the door, four upstairs in an antechamber playing poker and drinking beer around a coffee table with a monitor on in the background with some sports event. She heard a toilet flush and saw another come out from a back bathroom.

"Who's she?"

"She's here to feed the baby."

Constance was led to a small room and for a moment she felt a thrill of worry when she didn't spot the child. Then she heard a gurgle and her eyes were drawn to the right where a dresser stood against the wall. The middle drawer was hanging open and the baby was lying inside on a blanket.

Constance set the basket down and went to pick him up. "Hello there," she cooed. She glanced at the man hovering in the doorway. "Do you have a hot plate?"

He huffed. "Yeah, I'll get one."

As soon as he left, Constance pulled the baby blanket off her arm and nonchalantly sidled up to the open window. "Such a beautiful boy, you are," she said while reaching out and giving the blanket seven deliberate shakes, indicating how many men were inside. Now all she had to do was wait.

The man returned with the hot plate and Constance set to warming up the formula she'd brought, rocking baby Henry in one arm so as to keep him close and guarded.

"Hey," someone shouted from down the hall. "Boss lady's on the radio."

The man who'd brought her the hot plate and had been watching her turned and walked away. He seemed the one in charge here. Constance angled one ear toward the door and listened as a woman's voice crackled through a speaker.

"The DNA test proves the child's lineage. I'm coming to retrieve him."

Constance quickly turned away, shushing the baby as he started to fuss. The others had better act quickly.

She resumed making the formula, having to stop and read the instructions since she'd never had to make this stuff before. Thankfully, she did not have to wait long for the echo of a gunshot to reverberate from downstairs. Constance propped the baby up against her shoulder and whispered soothing nothings in his ear as she waited for the musketeers to find their way to her.

A man ran past the doorway, but then a shot cracked the air and he let out a cry as he was flung backward from the impact of a bullet. Aramis appeared a moment later, pistol in hand.

"Let's go."

"You have good timing," Constance said, clutching Henry close and hurrying forward. "A woman just called saying she's got the DNA proof and is coming to get the baby."

Aramis's expression was earnest with the intent to escape, but the moment he laid eyes on the baby he seemed to melt. "So you're the one all the fuss is about."

Constance would have found it adorable if not for the fact that one of Medici's men was suddenly coming at them from the other end of the hall. She snatched Aramis's second pistol from his belt and fired around him. The thug hit the floor and didn't get up.

Aramis arched a brow. "Nice shot."

She smirked at the compliment and kept hold of his gun in one hand, the baby in the other, as he led the way out toward the antechamber where the others were finishing off the rest of the kidnapping gang. Then they made their way downstairs and out into the street where they reunited with Agnes.

"Henry!" the woman exclaimed, reaching out desperately for her son.

Constance was only a little reluctant to hand him over.

Agnes clutched her son to her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"We can't stay," Aramis cautioned. "Marie de Medici is on her way for the boy."

"We'll see Agnes back to the church so she can pack her things," Athos said. "D'Artagnan, get the ship and meet us there. We leave as quickly as possible."

Agnes snapped her head up. "What? What do you mean pack my things?"

Aramis gently took her arm. "You have to leave this moon, you and Henry. Go far away and disappear."

"But this is my home. This is where my husband is buried."

"Marie de Medici will never stop coming for your son," Athos said curtly. "And if the Baron learns of his existence, there will be a bounty on his head. I assure you there are men out there who will have no qualms slaughtering an infant in his crib."

Agnes's face drained of color and she reeled back, clinging to Henry protectively.

"We'll take you somewhere else," Aramis said, tone much more gentle than the captain's. "Help you get set up. You and Henry can live your lives in peace. That's what matters here: that you both get to live."

"Think of your son," Constance put in.

Agnes's eyes were red and she still looked terrified, but she nodded.

D'Artagnan ducked in to share a quick kiss with Constance, and then they split up so they could get Agnes and Henry on their way off this moon.

o.0.o

D'Artagnan jogged out toward where the Luciole was parked outside the town. He used his code to unlock the airlock of the cargo hold, but just as he pulled the door open, hands roughly shoved him from behind and the barrel of a gun was pressed up against the back of his head. D'Artagnan froze.

"Where's the baby?"

"What baby?" He winced as the gun was pushed harder against his skull.

"I recognize you from the church, and you were loitering outside the dye house."

"I really have no idea what you're talking about," d'Artagnan maintained.

He was yanked around so he could face his assailants—a whole group of them. And the one holding the gun was definitely the one he'd pursued from the church. He should have paid attention to whether that man had been with the others they'd taken out at the manor. But of course Marie de Medici probably had plenty in her employ.

D'Artagnan's gaze was briefly drawn over the lead man's shoulder to where the messenger boy he'd sent to Athos earlier stood at the edge of town, watching. His heart sank.

The men forced him inside the ship and several spread out to look around. D'Artagnan kept his mouth shut, wracking his brain for a way out of this.

"Baby's not here," someone came back to report.

The leader shot a seething look at d'Artagnan. But instead of questioning him further, he grabbed him by the arm and hauled him up to the bridge. Thrusting him into the chair at the comms station, he raised the gun to d'Artagnan's head again.

"Contact your captain."

o.0.o

Athos didn't think Marie de Medici's people would think to look at the church again for the baby, but he nevertheless waited outside with Aramis and Porthos to stand watch while Agnes packed her things.

His wrist band beeped and he lifted it to his face, tapping twice. "D'Artagnan, what's your ETA?"

"I have your man, captain," a stranger's voice sounded through the link.

Athos stiffened, and Aramis and Porthos gathered closer to listen intently. "Who is this?" Athos demanded.

The man didn't answer. "If you want him returned alive and intact, you'll bring the baby to the river crossing outside the town in one hour."

"How do I know he's still alive?"

There were a few beats of silence and then,

"Athos, don'—" He was cut off with a muffled noise.

"One hour," the first man repeated, and then the link disconnected.

"What do we do?" Porthos asked in a low growl.

Athos's jaw tightened. He raised his voice but kept his tone sedate, "Constance, can you come over here for a moment?"

She was currently rocking baby Henry under the shade of a tree while Agnes was inside and made her way over. "What is it?"

"D'Artagnan has been taken captive by Medici's men and they want to trade him for the baby," Athos laid out.

Her eyes widened and her mouth parted with a barely audible gasp. She reached one hand up to cup the back of the baby's head, looking torn between her husband and an innocent child. But Marie de Medici needed the boy alive—she wouldn't harm him.

"We can't hand him over," Aramis said in alarm.

"These people are determined," Athos replied. "It won't matter how far Agnes and her baby run; Marie de Medici will hunt them down eventually."

"Not to mention the rest of us fer knowin' where they might be," Porthos mentioned under his breath.

"Unless everyone believes the child is dead," Aramis spoke up in a low voice.

"What?" Constance blurted, shooting him an incredulous look tinged with horror.

Athos studied him. "You want to fake the baby's death."

Aramis nodded. "It's the only way Henry and Agnes will ever be safe."

"It's risky. We could end up personal enemies to Marie de Medici."

"I'm willing to risk it," Aramis declared. "Besides, her men have presented us with the means to do it."

Porthos quirked a confused brow. "How?"

"I have an idea." Aramis's expression turned grim. "But in order for it to work, we can't tell Agnes."

Constance shook her head. "I don't know about that. Lying to a mother about her own son…" She glanced at the baby in her arms.

"It's the only way to get d'Artagnan back too," Aramis said.

"Alright," Athos interjected, making the decision for them. "What do you have in mind?"

o.0.o

D'Artagnan didn't know whether to hope to see his brothers or not when he and his captors emerged from the tree line and stopped at the end of a wide bridge stretching out over a river, but the sight of Aramis holding a swaddle of blankets in his arms filled him with a rush of alarm. Surely Aramis wouldn't hand over the baby. No, it must be a fake. D'Artagnan clenched his fists, wishing he could be of more use in a fight without the cuffs on his wrists.

The lead thug clamped a hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder, gun in the other hand, and shouted, "Bring the baby over!"

"We'll meet halfway!" Aramis called back.

The leader gave d'Artagnan a shove as they both started out onto the bridge. Four men accompanied him and the leader while six more stayed behind. As far as d'Artagnan could see, Aramis was alone, but he knew that wasn't the case. He just wished he knew what the plan was.

"No!"

Everyone whipped their heads up to where Agnes was running through the woods toward the bridge.

"What are you doing? Stop!"

Porthos stepped out from behind a tree and caught her in his arms.

"No!" she screamed, pounding her fists against him but he didn't budge. "Please don't do this!"

D'Artagnan shot a wide-eyed look at Aramis, who looked back at him with a stony expression as he kept moving forward. D'Artagnan felt his heart drop into his stomach.

They finally met in the middle of the bridge and the barrel of a gun was pressed firmly against his skull.

"Hand over the baby," the leader demanded.

Aramis didn't move, but his eyes shifted over to meet d'Artagnan's again. No words passed between them, but he understood the signal. Trusting his brother, d'Artagnan twisted abruptly, swinging his cuffed hands up to knock the gun aside. Then he dropped low and kicked out the man's legs.

A gunshot cracked the air and another goon just behind the first fell. More gunfire erupted from the trees and the men who'd stayed at the head of the bridge came charging forward now, returning fire. D'Artagnan stayed down as bullets flew above his head.

"Don't shoot the baby!" the leader bellowed.

Two men stowed their guns and lunged at Aramis, grappling with him for the bundle. Aramis tried to twist away but the hands were pulling him in opposite directions. Then he hit the railing and the bundle went flying from his arms and over the side, Aramis's arm extending out over the rushing water but grasping only air. D'Artagnan could only stare in suspended horror.

A horrible, gut-wrenching keen echoed from the tree line. Agnes finally broke away from Porthos and came running out onto the bridge, screaming Henry's name. She tried to climb over the railing but Aramis hauled her back and trapped her in his arms.

The marksman shot the lead thug a scathing glare. "What more do you want!"

The kidnapper hesitated, eyes wide with the same shock they were all feeling. Then Athos and Porthos approached the end of the bridge, guns raised, and he gestured at his men still standing to retreat.

D'Artagnan slowly stood up, his heart fracturing at Agnes's anguished sobs.

Athos and Porthos came out onto the bridge and Porthos picked the handcuffs on d'Artagnan's wrists.

"I'm sorry," d'Artagnan whispered hoarsely.

Porthos gave him a level look. "Wasn't yer fault."

Still, they wouldn't have been here if he hadn't gotten captured.

"We should head back," Athos said somberly.

Aramis guided Agnes off the bridge and back through the woods, but a few moments later she shoved away from him.

"I trusted you!"

Aramis looked absolutely stricken but didn't respond.

D'Artagnan couldn't quite process how it had all gone so wrong so fast. They had been trying to help, and they'd just made it worse. They'd gotten an innocent baby killed.

He blinked as he realized his wife wasn't there. "Where's Constance?"

"Waiting for us," Athos replied.

A few minutes later they walked out of the woods and d'Artagnan blinked in surprise to find the Luciole sitting parked in a meadow.

Aramis quickened his pace to catch up with Agnes, trying to get her to meet his eye. "I am so sorry for what you just went through," he said. "But if you hadn't been convincing as a grieving mother, they would have seen right through it. This was the only way I could see you and Henry having any kind of life together."

D'Artagnan furrowed his brow in confusion.

"What life?" Agnes asked bitterly.

Aramis looked toward the ship, and d'Artagnan followed his gaze just as Constance walked out of the open cargo bay with a bundle in her arms.

"Henry?" Agnes gasped.

The sounds of a baby fussing emanated from the swaddle of blankets.

"Oh, Henry!"

Constance happily handed over the baby and then hurried over to d'Artagnan and threw her arms around him. "Are you all right?" she asked.

He was frankly a little stunned by this revelation but managed to hug back and kiss her temple. "I'm fine."

"Now no one will be looking for you and you can start over, live in peace," Aramis told Agnes.

The poor woman lifted tear-filled eyes to him, but now they were ones of joy instead of grief. "Thank you. You kept your promise."

D'Artagnan looked at Constance. "You went and got the ship while everyone was preoccupied with the hostage exchange."

She beamed at him. "I did. Although flying a ship and bouncing a baby on one knee is a bit of an acrobatic feat."

He grinned at the image. "Do you ever want any kids?" he asked thoughtfully. It wasn't something they had really talked about before.

Constance scoffed. "Why? When I've already got four to look after."

Athos wrinkled his brow in an affronted look.

Aramis and Porthos broke into wide grins.

D'Artagnan slipped an arm around his wife's waist. "Come on, I think it's time we got off this moon."

They had another family to get set up in a new life somewhere.