Thanks again for everyone reading, reviewing, favouring and following especially the two guest reviewers who left messages that I couldn't reply too. It means alot.

Also I hope everyone is keeping well and safe throughout the current global situation. Hopefully this will give you all some distraction. The boys finally meet.


I'm gonna fight 'em off
A seven nation army couldn't hold me back
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right behind my back
And I'm talkin' to myself at night
Because I can't forget
Back and forth through my mind
Behind a cigarette

And the message comin' from my eyes says, "Leave it alone"

Don't wanna hear about it
Every single one's got a story to tell
Everyone knows about it
From the Queen of England to the hounds of hell
And if I catch it comin' back my way
I'm gonna serve it to you
And that ain't what you want to hear
But that's what I'll do

And the feeling coming from my bones says, "Find a home"

Seven Nation Army – White Stripes


The yell echoed through the hall. Athos glanced up just in time to see the youth charging him. He stepped aside. It wasn't enough to completely dodge, but it meant receiving only a glancing blow and staying on his feet. The lad glared and lunged at him again. Athos was ready this time and blocked the swing.

He'd had his share of fights. His father had thought it wise that his sons know some boxing – Queensbury rules of course – and he'd engaged in playful – and sometimes less playful – bouts with Thomas and their schoolmates.

The boy was not unskilled, but his emotions made him reckless. Athos could easily predict his moves and react accordingly. In fact, it felt oddly familiar, almost like déjà vu if he'd been prone to such concepts.

"Are you lost?" The man who interjected used the boy's momentum against him to spin him away from Athos. "This is a hospital, not a prize fighting ring." His tone was light as if torn between genuine amusement and feigned disapproval.

"He's a murderer!"

Athos ignored the newcomer's measured sweep of him, focusing on the youth in his hold. "I'd remember killing someone and I don't. You've mistaken me for someone else."

"Liar! My father is in a coma because of you!"

The other man jerked his stare back to the lad. "Then your father is still alive, so he can't have murdered him. Not yet at least, assaulted maybe." The man's hold was as light as his chastisement apparently as the boy broke free, charging for Athos once again.

"Attacker would fit better."

Athos ignored the man as he side-stepped, catching the youth himself this time. "I'm sorry about your father but I'm not responsible. Don't make me hurt you over a mistake."

The young man struggled, not listening. "Then why did he name you!"

Athos had no idea why anyone would accuse him of such a thing, but the lad wouldn't listen. "Liar!" He slipped free and grabbed a mop, swinging at Athos. The stranger had turned his attention to the approaching nurses and orderlies, insisting they didn't need to be concerned.

He had no choice but to grab a brush to defend himself. He mentally rolled his eyes at the absurdity of the situation.

Despite the unwieldly length the boy had some skill in using in it. Athos begrudgingly found himself respecting the lad. But after the day's events Athos wasn't in the mood to entertain his antics.

The other man wasn't helping much either, having decided to become a casual spectator. "Are you planning on actually stopping anytime soon. The head nurse is less than happy and even my charm can't ease her mind."

The lad snarled in answer. "It's not my choice," Athos pointed out as the lad came at him again. This time the observer did step in, literally, between them.

"Alright, that's enough. He said there was a mistake." Now Athos could actually focus on the third man, and he noticed the small details he hadn't been able to focus on earlier. His tone was still friendly, but it held an edge and his stance was ramrod straight. One hand rested on the youth's chest in warning, the other was casually curled under the hem of his jacket. Athos was sure he was armed.

He paused in consideration. The man hadn't pulled any weapon yet and didn't seem inclined to do so, but things were in danger of escalating. He suspected from the man's bearing and the way his eyes constantly swept the area, unpredictable situations such as this weren't unusual for him.

Oddly despite being the calmest of the three of them, Athos sensed the man was the greatest threat and not just because of the potential weapon. He reminded Athos of a coiled spring, potential energy to kinetic force without warning. It worried Athos and not in the way he thought it should.

The boy was too worked up to notice the warning. He shoved them both. "Fine! I'll fight the both of you!"

"The three of us." The newcomer wrapped an arm around the youngest, knocking him off balance. The soldier swept out a leg, taking his feet out from under him. Athos moved in close, pressing his shoulder back.

The newcomer used the extra help to lift the lad off the ground, effectively rendering him immobile. He struggled but unable to get leverage it was useless. The big man sighed, "for goodness sake. Use your head."

"Is three on one fair!" The newly arrived red-haired young woman was stalking towards them, disproval clear.

Since the other two had the lad secure, Athos stepped back. "We weren't going to hurt him."

His temporary helpers exchanged looks.

"We weren't?"

"Next time let us know."

Athos ignored them. Both men were clearly strong enough and skilled enough to have hurt either the youth or Athos himself if they wished. Their intention had been the same as his own, secure the boy before he hurt himself or someone else. He was sure of it.

The lad pulled himself free, but the fight seemed to have gone out of him. "I don't need a girl to protect me."

The girl gave a highly impressive glare at them all. "Well you need someone to, if only from yourself. Why is it men always decide to solve their problems with violence? If they'd only think first, there'd be more of them left, and less hospitals needed."

The soldier smirked. "Him I'm not sure about, her I like."

Athos appreciated the sentiment, but they needed to focus. Now that he had time to look at the big man, he recognised him as the guest Rocheforte's men had been manhandling when he interfered. He nodded his thanks. The other man returned the gesture, his expression verifying that he had recognised Athos as well. That explained the help and yet Athos wondered if the man had just now felt the same unnameable instinct to help the way he had that night, if that that been what had truly driven him to interfere.

He pushed the thought away; they didn't need anymore distractions. "My name is Oliver d'Athos. And you are?"

"Charles D'Artagnan from Lupiac in Gascony."

"Porthos Du Vallon."

"Constance Bonacieux."

The lack of a fourth reply revealed the soldier's departure. That wasn't important right now. Athos focussed on the one bit that might make sense of all this.

"I met an Alexandre D'Artagnan earlier today."

"And then you beat half to death." The boy's attack became all the clearer.

"No. He wanted a meeting with an acquaintance of mine. It was to do with pollution, if I recall. I gave him my card as an offer to help."

"If you didn't hurt him, who did?"

A picture of Rocheforte emerged in his mind. He ignored the dark-haired beauty that flashed for a moment.

"I need to talk to someone." He studied the trio in front of him. He didn't know why he said what he did next, but he knew it was necessary. It was right. "I think you should come with me."


Treville resisted the urge to run a hand over his face. He felt so very tired at that moment. And on edge. When Athos had called, requesting an immediate meeting, he'd suggested his office out of habit.

His few personal possessions sat in a box on the desk. Treville had abandoned the task of clearing out his office in the wake of Athos' arrival and story.

Now the younger man sat in front of him, stoically staring back. The young woman, Constance, sat in the adjacent seat. Her eyes tracking the pacing young man. Once again Treville's glance flitted to Porthos. He'd nearly frozen at the sight of the big man. It was still like seeing a ghost. There was something so familiar about the young man too, about all of them. He had already decided to help them before any of them said a word.

"I can't say one way or the other, but challenging Rocheforte usually isn't a good idea." He had no proof of Rocheforte's guilt, but he fully agreed with Athos' suspicions regarding Alexandre D'Artagnan's attack.

"I'll kill him!" the boy swore. Treville studied him. He was certainly athletic and the way he moved was an asset, but his emotions controlled him. That could lead to mistakes.

"Then you would be the one in jail. If you want justice for your father, we need evidence," Athos said evenly. He too was watching D'Artagnan, assessing his mindset and capability.

"We need to stop his influence", Constance pointed out. "Otherwise he's just going to get away with it and those that need help will be even worse off.".

"There's all sorts of rumours about his red guards," Porthos said. "Smuggling and stuff. There has to be somewhere they're keeping that."

"Where does he keep his records" Athos asked?

"We'll never get near his office." Treville thought for a moment. There was one possibility. "Rochefort has a premises not far from the Bourbon estate. It wasn't used for any of the businesses, but his own private use. He holds meetings there. There's always a guard present on the perimeter but no one's allowed near it."

Athos nodded. D'Artagnan abruptly halted his pacing and listened. Porthos gave a grim smile and cracked his knuckles.

Treville felt his shoulders set as the unease he had felt so long, turned to purpose. He would help guide these young men, and together they would stop Rocheforte.


Rocheforte surveyed the men in front of him. "Do you understand what you're to do?" They all nodded.

He strolled through them, reading them. He stopped in front of The Cardinal. The man's gaze flickered before immediately fixing back in front. Rocheforte forced himself not to react at the disobedience. The man would soon pay. "No matter what it takes. I don't care if you have to leave your position and literally stab them in the back with a pocketknife. These thieves are to be apprehended. Dead or alive."

"They will. You have my word." Like he cared about that.

He dismissed them all but his own second. The man stood unwavering in front of him. "If the Cardinal and the Red Guards don't stop them, they'll go straight for any documents they can find."

"They won't sir."

"But they might." The musketeers – Treville's favourite pets above all else – had proven annoyingly meddlesome. But Rocheforte had already anticipated that. Their interference had become predictable. Rocheforte wouldn't make the same mistake again. "And I've prepared for that inevitability. Just make sure the Cardinal keeps them in position. Anything they do find; they won't ever be able to use."


Rene stared down his rifle scope. Perched on a roof adjacent to Rocheforte's building he had a perfect line of sight. He could see the men's outlines as they cautiously approached the edge of the property. He gave them the credit they were due. They were smart. They stayed behind cover and they took care of the guards quickly and quietly.

So far, he hadn't been able to get a clean shot. He was almost glad. Treville wasn't a man who should have a traitor's death. His heart clenched. His mind couldn't reconcile the men from the hospital as the ruthless enemies he was assigned to stop.

And stop them he would. Sooner or later they'd have to break cover to make it to the building itself. Rene had his orders.

He focused his rifle once more, pushing the emotion and thoughts away. If those men really were smart, they'd give up and go home now. They wouldn't get what they wanted tonight. Rocheforte was too many steps ahead of them.

The commotion around registered distantly in his mind. His sniper's senses identifying, analysing and discarding everything around him as quickly as it happened. The shouts of the red guards. Two of them hurrying out a side door. Their commander's order to fall back.

The men sprinted forward. They were at the edge of the trees now. The big one was crouched by a rock, measuring the distance. Rene trained his barrel. '"No matter what it takes."'


Athos scanned the area around them, thinking through potential options. The short stone wall was adequate protection for the moment if he stayed low.

D'Artagnan's distraction had managed to lead a few guards away. Athos could just make out his and Treville's silhouettes on the other side of the lawn. Porthos was crouched a few yards away. The other man caught his eye and grinned. Athos' reply came in the form of a look that just made him grin wider. The shouts of the red guards whipped through the air. They weren't completely incompetent, but they had numbers of three men to every one of theirs and it hadn't done them much good, given the half-dozen unconscious, injured and temporarily incapacitated bodies scattered throughout the grounds. Though he and the others had made use of surprise and concealment.

The guard in charge gave a shout. His men rushed into a new formation, directly covering the front. Athos threw his gaze towards Treville and D'Artagnan, relieved to note they both had adequate cover, if only momentarily.

Porthos caught his eye again, his grin even bigger. The tall man gestured with his head. Athos looked. An almost hidden door was set in the side wall. Athos caught onto the plan at once.

He frowned as Porthos made his way towards it. The new positions of the guards had created a wall at the front and far side of the house, leaving the other side unprotected. Had they really forgotten about it?

A shadow on the roof caught Athos' attention. His heart froze as he registered the sniper. What tactical planning he had kicked in. In their respective positions the sniper couldn't get a clean shot. But Porthos would have to break cover the final few yards to reach the door.

He stared at the figure on the roof again. Athos had only copped him because he had betrayed his position. He was too far away to worry about being hit, nobody on the ground had that kind of firepower. So why hide? And then why break position?

In his peripheral he saw D'Artagnan use the guards' distraction to skirt towards Porthos.

He locked stares with the potential bringer of death. Even across the distance, Athos could sense confusion. The other man's not his, he was surprised to realise. The man had moved out of position when the guards had. Only he hadn't taken up a new one. Even now the shadowy weapon in his grip was ready but not properly aimed. He hadn't moved out of boredom or bad discipline but to better analyse the area. Except he wouldn't need to move to get a better shot, just remain patient.

He hadn't moved to see them; he'd moved to see his own comrades. He hadn't expected them to move.

Why had they? The captain couldn't be so poorly trained. He wouldn't survive working for a man like Rocheforte for long, if he… Athos' eyes widened. The rifle moved ever so slightly.

It was as if time had slowed down. He stood instantly, the instinct to protect drowning out all self-preservation. "PORTHOS!"

The other man froze and turned, only feet from the house. Athos turned back towards the sniper, thousands of silent messages, words, threats, warnings, and understandings. A phantom blade traced his neck as promising dark eyes ghosted in front of him.

His shoulder exploded in pain as his vision went white and then red as the world went on fire.


I'm going to Wichita
Far from this opera for evermore
I'm gonna work the straw
Make the sweat drip out of every pore
And I'm bleeding, and I'm bleeding, and I'm bleeding
Right before the Lord
All the words are gonna bleed from me
And I will think no more

And the stains comin' from my blood tell me, "Go back home"


Well I hope you enjoyed that. Next up they'll be putting more of the pieces together.

As always I leave you with a question (thanks to everyone who's answered so far they've been really enjoyable to read and get other viewpoints):

If you had to pick a different opening credits which would it be? I was a huge Buffy fan when I was younger and I think but it's opening and sister show Angel's would suit our beloved heroes very well. What about the rest of you? Any show openings you think would suit? Let me know.