Summary: 2x6 tag - Constance comes by the garrison to check on Aramis after the events at the observatory.

A/N: Thank you Uia, UKGuest, and Laureleaf for your reviews! Laureleaf, yeah, you did throw me off for a second there, haha. Maybe I could do a Christmas in July chapter. I put the idea on my list. ^_^

"Hey Sister"

Aramis sat at the courtyard table, cleaning his pistols in order to keep busy. He'd been taken off duty for the day after the events at the observatory. He'd tried to insist that wasn't necessary, but apparently the amount of blood that had to be washed out of his hair upon return had sent all three of his brothers into an exaggerated mother hen state. Treville, likewise, had brooked no argument when he'd heard just how many stitches the back of Aramis's leg required. And even though Treville wasn't the captain anymore, Aramis had still been outnumbered.

And, if he was honest with himself, all the aches and bruises he'd accumulated from his fall out the window were making themselves loudly known the day after once they'd had time to set in. His lower back twinged from the pistol shaped contusion imprinted in his flesh from landing on the weapon that'd been secured to his belt. The stitches in the back of his thigh pulled with each step he took. And his head throbbed incessantly from the force of being knocked unconscious.

All in all, he was lucky to be alive, let alone able to walk, albeit with a limp. So, really, if it'd been anyone else, he would have advised rest for a couple of days before resuming full duties.

At least he had the fresh memory of finding Anne alive and unharmed and of holding his son to keep him company as he whiled away the morning.

"Aramis," a feminine voice interrupted his daydreaming.

He looked up in surprise to find Madame Bonacieux in the courtyard. "Constance. I'm afraid d'Artagnan's already at the palace on guard duty this morning."

"I know," she replied. "I saw him on my way out. I came to see you."

"Me?" he repeated dubiously.

She gave him a long-suffering look. "You look remarkably well for someone who went out a third story window."

He shrugged, barely concealing a wince as he did so. "I'm fine." He pushed himself up from the bench and rounded the table toward her. "What about you?" His gaze flicked down briefly to the bruises circling her delicate wrists. "You suffered harsh treatment at the hands of that madman."

Constance swallowed hard, her eyes haunted for a moment. "It could have been worse." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "Much worse."

Aramis's heart constricted. Indeed it could have been. The Queen and the Dauphin…it didn't bear thinking upon.

He straightened. "Did- did the Queen…" He glanced around the courtyard, knowing better than to voice the question aloud. Constance knew about him and Anne; if there was anyone the Queen would trust with such an errand, it would be her…

Constance's eyes turned sad. "No. I came on my own, Aramis. Did you not think seeing you seemingly murdered wouldn't affect me? I've grown rather fond of you all, you know." She quirked a smile at him, then added in a hushed whisper, "I'm sorry."

Despite his disappointment, his expression softened. "You have a kind heart, Constance. I'm sorry you had to see that."

She was silent for a moment, perhaps drifting back to the observatory. But then she shook herself out of it and drew her chin up. "Well, I'm glad you're alive. And in one piece."

He smirked. "Mostly one piece."

"Then what are you doing standin' around like that?" she chided abruptly. "Sit down before you fall over!"

He blinked in confusion at the sharp turn that had taken. He had been trying to keep weight off his wounded leg, though he hadn't thought he was leaning that much.

Constance lightly pushed at his shoulders until he'd backed up toward the bench, and he promptly sat down.

"Have you eaten?" she asked.

Aramis arched a brow at her.

"I know how you men are. So busy pretendin' you're fine you forget to take proper care of yourselves."

"I assure you, I know perfectly well how to take care of myself," he protested. "I was going to fetch some lunch after I finished cleaning this last pistol." Aramis gestured to the weapon he'd been in the middle of reassembling.

"You shouldn't be on that leg. I'll fetch you somethin' to eat. Just wait here."

Aramis rolled his eyes. "I should have asked if Porthos and Athos sent you. You're as bad as they are."

She huffed. "Given the trouble you get into, I can see why they need to be."

"They're the ones I'm usually getting out of trouble," he pointed out.

"Then perhaps it's time you let someone return the favor."

With that, she turned on her heel and headed for the kitchen. Wasn't Serge in for a surprise.

Shaking his head, Aramis turned around on the bench and reached for his pistol so he could finish caring for his weapon. While he'd been taking his time before, he now completed the task deftly and swiftly. He had just set the pistol aside when Constance returned with a bowl of hot stew and some bread.

He saluted two fingers at her. "Thank you, Madame."

To his surprise, she slid onto the bench across the table from him.

"Constance, I'm sure the Queen needs you attending to her."

She paused for a moment before lowering her voice. "I think the Queen would approve of my attention being spent here."

The sentiment was touching but unnecessary. "I'm fine."

Constance nodded slowly. "Perhaps it's the rest of us who need a little more time to be fine with the fact that you almost weren't."

Aramis quirked a brow at her, somewhat taken aback that it would have affected her so. Surely her own trauma would have had more of an impact. And then of course there was that kiss she'd shared with d'Artagnan that had to be taking up a great deal of her thoughts.

She rolled her eyes at his expression. "With how close you are with d'Artagnan, that practically makes you one of my brothers."

Ah.

"Are you in the habit of bullying your brothers?" he asked cheekily.

"When they deserve it. Now eat up."

Aramis smiled and broke the bread, passing her half. "A gentleman does not dine alone in front of a woman." He hesitated. "Or a belligerent sister."

Her mouth tugged upward and she took a bite.

Aramis settled into the comfortable companionship and silently prayed to God that this woman was able to find happiness with a certain young Gascon. Those two deserved it.