A/N: This is a rewrite of a chapter of my Infirmary Talks stories (Ch 98). This one will stand alone though, so there is no reason to revisit the original (unless you want to!). It niggled me that there was unfinished business in that chapter so I thought I'd better correct that. It's a modern AU and pre d'Artagnan.

This should take us into the new and hopefully better New Year, dear readers.

Stay safe.

oOo

A CLOSE CALL

Athos, Porthos and Aramis:

Chapter One

The Musketeers were an elite group of operatives, working out of a secure location in Paris.

They were all ex military and all had individual skills, having been hand-picked by their Captain, Jean Treville. Funded by the Ministry of Justice, they were back up for the Government bodies whose task was the safe guarding of national security as well as the citizens of France. That being said, Jean Treville had an on-going battle to keep his force well-equipped and functioning, free from the interference of those who did not always condone his autonomy.

Aramis had been the first signing, several years ago now, followed by Athos and finally Porthos. They had formed a tight crew, much to their Captain's surprise, given their individual temperaments, even to the point of overseeing the training of new recruits. Treville took pride in his squad and lately, had made friends in high places following several recent successes with some complex cases.

His men had shown their worth many times over and Treville could see a future where expansion was now probable. He ran a tight ship which his men appreciated. He had their respect, and they his, despite often driving him to distraction with their attitudes, often taking unnecessary risks, their self belief in their department strengthened with each successful assignment.

Occasionally though, Treville enjoyed the peace that descended in the office when his three best operative's days off coincided and they dispersed to whatever it was they got up to in their free time. The less he knew on that matter, the better. He had enough to worry about during working hours, never mind their down time.

oOo

"So, where's the wine cellar?" Aramis asked, as they stood in the kitchen of Athos's home, his eyes scanning the room.

Admittedly, it was a beautiful kitchen, sleek grey and black cabinets ranged around the bright, white tiles. Definitely German origin, Aramis had thought when they first entered. There were no appliances on show. That would have offended Athos's minimalist tendencies. All white goods, and in some cases, black, were secreted behind closed kitchen cabinet doors. He had found that out when searching for glasses.

Athos looked away and made a point of looking around the kitchen, with a bored expression, glass now held in his hand. The wine it held, a rich, no doubt, expensive burgundy, had been poured from one of two bottles that had stood breathing on the counter top, next to a flat screen console; otherwise the counters were bare.

"Oh, no," Aramis smiled at his friend's expression. "This is a house with a wine cellar."

Athos sighed and put his glass down. He looked at Porthos, who was looking around for a door, or at least, a wine rack. The only repository they had seen was the large fridge that Athos had taken the cheese from they were now nibbling on, while waiting for their food delivery, phoned in ahead of their arrival.

Athos sighed, in mock resignation.

"Alright," he said, a smile carefully hidden but evident in his voice to those who knew him, as they did. "I suppose you'll want a proper tour anyway."

It had taken Porthos and Aramis a concerted effort to wear Athos down and get him to concede to a visit. That achievement, he knew, would have won one of them the bet on his location, though he didn't comment on it.

Porthos rubbed his hands together and winked at Aramis. This was the first time Porthos and Aramis had visited Athos's house, a three-storey affair in Chevreuse, in the lle de France region, south of Paris; even though he had owned it now for over a year. They were familiar with his apartment in Paris, but his house was a forty minute drive through the city to the outskirts and beyond. Athos rolled his eyes, no doubt there had been a few bets between his friends in relation to his accommodation. Hopefully, he would not be an easy mark.

Founded in the eleventh century, Chevreuse itself was a fairytale town, which was overlooked by the ruins of a medieval château, perched on the hilltop. The chateau had been its original fortification.

They had all taken a stroll around the town prior to congregating in the kitchen, bringing cheese back from a delightful little shop in one of the many winding historic streets. Athos had been keen to show them the little establishment. The owner had greeted him warmly and had pulled out an already-wrapped order from beneath the counter. They chatted for a few minutes while Aramis and Porthos sampled the pieces of excellent cheese on display on the counter.

Aramis nudged Porthos as they watched their friend looking relaxed and happy, talking to the owner. Athos collected his parcel and turned, catching them smirking at him. Rolling his eyes, he said his goodbyes and strode from the shop. Porthos grabbed another bite of cheese and waved farewell to the laughing owner, as they followed their friend out into the street.

The area had been the inspiration for iconic artists and writers, including Emile Zola and Alexander Dumas. It was also home to the iconic Palace of Versailles. A small river meandered gently through the town, flanked by the many shrubs and blossoms on the old walls.

It was such a calm, enticing place that Aramis could not but wonder why their brother had not mentioned his home's location before. But then, he thought, Athos was a very private man and relished his solitude. This was a bolt-hole and they could grant him that.

Porthos had been mesmerised, coming, as he did from a childhood of poverty in the back streets of Paris. They knew of the town's existence, of course, and that of the Palace of Versailles but the little town itself was often by passed unless you had time to kick back and explore the countryside, which they did not. Paris took up most of their time and they could not see that changing in the future. At least when Athos disappeared occasionally, they would now know where he was, if he was not at his apartment.

Athos led them out of the kitchen and into an adjoining room. A library - the walls lined, floor to ceiling with books. Striding over to the shelves next to the long window, he pulled one of the books forward and the whole section clicked open. Without looking behind him, Athos stepped through, expecting them to follow, which they did, eagerly. They found themselves facing an antique black iron spiral staircase, leading down.

"Don't worry, it's perfectly safe. It has been renovated," Athos said, as he began to descend. "And before you ask, I haven't done anything to the house."

Behind his back, Porthos and Aramis pulled faces.

"I saw that," Athos said, as he reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped off, still not turning his head.

They could see why he said that as he opened a door and stepped aside, so they could enter.

"The wine cellar, I presume," he said, folding his arms and leaning on the wall, a smile in his voice.

Porthos and Aramis stopped in their tracks.

They had indeed stepped into a cavernous space, with an arched vaulted brick ceiling. It would have, and probably had at some time, made a magnificent wine cellar. However, no wine racks could be seen.

Before them was a beautiful pool, lit from the bottom; the green water shimmering in the concealed floodlights behind an arrangement of brick pillars.

"Oh, I bought the plants," Athos murmured, as his friends took in the raised seating area at the end of the pool, softened by large, green palm-like plants, their leaves forming an oasis of calm. "And the furniture," he added, huge, black rattan sofas with cream upholstery.

"Wow!" Porthos breathed, rooted to the spot.

Beside him, Aramis was apparently speechless.

"My raison d'etre for buying the place. That, and a few others," Athos said, behind them as he walked past them to a granite wall half way along the length of the pool. He put a palm against one of the stones and a door slid across, revealing a small inner space.

"A lift?" Aramis said, regaining his voice as they followed, to stand beside him, gaping into the sleek, mirrored, interior.

"Well, the staircase is not that practical," Athos said, as he stepped inside. "So I had this put in."

Athos stepped into the lift first, before turning around. Porthos and Aramis stepped inside and they too, turned around so all were facing back toward the open door. Before Porthos could reach out and press one of the buttons, there was a slight noise behind then and when they turned around, Athos was gone.

Porthos and Aramis looked at each other in confusion.

"Where did he go?" Aramis whispered.

Before Porthos could offer an explanation, the back wall of the lift clicked open and Athos stood in a passageway beyond. The walls were lined on each side with wine racks, full of bottles.

Porthos started to laugh.

"I knew there'd be one somewhere!" he said.

Athos smiled back and stepped back into the lift.

"Where does it go?" Porthos asked, looking down the passage.

"Out into a courtyard," Athos replied. "Through the garage."

"Ah," Aramis said. "I knew you had to have that car stashed somewhere safe."

"And the Ducatti," Athos said.

Athos was the proud owner of a black Alpha Romeo Giulia, a four wheel drive 2.9 ltr sports sedan, with a V6 Ferrari derived engine. And an equally black Ducatti Panigale V4 motorcycle. The sight of Athos walking through the office in black leathers often led to admiring glances.

They also knew that somewhere on the premises, he had an SUV. No doubt the garage was as large as the footprint of the house.

Athos walked between them and back to the poolside. The lift door slid silently back and was no longer discernable. He led them back to the seating area at the far side of the pool. Becoming aware that Porthos was no longer following, he turned around to find his friend sitting down at the side of the pool and pulling off his loafers.

Raising an eyebrow, Athos turned to Aramis, who was laughing.

"Are we stayin' the night?" Porthos called out, as Athos and Aramis took their seats.

"If you wish," Athos replied. "There are six bedrooms." he added, amicably.

"And does your kitchen have a drier?" Porthos asked next, as he lowered his feet into the pool with a contented sigh.

"Of course," Athos said, with a frown. "Can I ask why?"

Instead of replying, Porthos smiled and fell forward, straight into the pool, with a loud splash!

Athos rolled his eyes and looked at Aramis, who shrugged happily. Porthos was now floating on his back, fully dressed, but looking very content.

"I didn't know he could swim," Athos said, in a quiet aside.

"It's a surprise to me too," Aramis smiled. "Though there was that time ..."

"Least said," Athos interrupted, as he reached for a remote and pointed it over his shoulder, without looking.

Smooth jazz filled the room, echoing around the pillars. At the same time, the lights dropped, which made the water shimmer even more.

"Yes!" Porthos shouted, gleefully as he turned on his front and swam to the other end of the pool, easily powering through the green, floodlit water.

"He can swim," Athos murmured.

Gesturing for Porthos to remain, Athos stood.

"We'll leave you to it," he called out to Porthos. "Join us in the kitchen when you're done. The food will arrive within the hour. Don't rush on our account," he added, as he and Aramis took the spiral staircase back up to the library on the floor above.

"I love your house!" Porthos called, looking like an overgrown child, splashing around in the pool.

"I'm glad," Athos called back, as he and Aramis disappeared.

Porthos up-ended and disappeared beneath the surface, swimming a full length under water.

An hour later, the food arrived and Porthos was still in the pool.

As he pulled plates from the kitchen cupboard, Athos tapped on the screen on the CCTV console on the counter to check that their friend had not drowned. Turning, he gave Aramis a wink before tapping a key. Aramis came to stand beside Athos and they watched as a floor began to glide over the top of the pool, gradually covering it from view.

Aramis's mouth dropped slightly open.

"It creates a little more space," Athos said. "Not everyone wants a pool," Athos said. "I like to give any future buyers the option."

"Can you walk on it safely?" Aramis asked.

"Three pillars rise out of the floor to support it," Athos replied, nonchalantly. "In some pools, the whole floor rises up but I prefer it this way. Porthos better hurry."

Porthos could do nothing but pull himself out, reluctantly. Catching the camera in the corner of the room, he gestured his disapproval with a flick of his middle finger, much to his friend's amusement on the floor above.

A little later, wet clothes thrown into the washer-drier, he sat in one of Athos's guest robes, happily devouring two portions of chow mein, two portions of rice and half a cheesecake he had found in Athos's freezer, having first found the freezer.

It wasn't often they had their days off together, but by the time they had explored Athos's house and Chevreuse itself, they felt as if they knew their brother just a little better.

oOo

To be continued