A/N: Thanks for those of you who have been following along with this series, and for not getting too frustrated with the break in between posts. Here's the next episode!

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Saints and Sinners, Ch. 1

It had been weeks since Christine had begun working in the Garrison. The men quickly got used to having a woman around – though some of the cadets still gawked at her from time to time as she passed. It had only taken a few scoldings and the resetting of two shoulders (the screams of the cadets who required the treatment could be heard from two blocks away) for the men to accept her amongst them.

She wasn't surprised when, as she was putting some bandages away, Bernard and Adam burst through the door. Bernard looked stressed and Adam embarrassed as he clutched a bloodstained cloth to his forehead.

"Whoa," said Christine as she looked at the two men, pointing for Adam to take a seat in a chair.

She had come to know Bernard and Adam fairly well, among a few others. Bernard, she saw, acted as a bit of an older brother figure to Adam, who was nearly of an age with D'Artagnan, though a little older. They kept her company sharing jokes and stories when Aramis, Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan were out on duty.

Today however, as Adam sat in the chair and Bernard loomed over him, did not look like it would be a day for jokes.

"What happened?" she asked as she pulled out her sewing supplies, some fresh towels and a bottle of spirits. She filled a bowl with hot water she kept boiling at the hearth and set it on the table next to her other supplies.

"It was nothing," muttered Adam as he bashfully dropped his eyes as she leaned closer to him to examine his wound.

"Nothing," muttered Bernard. "Hah! We were out in the market place, and we heard a cry coming from a few streets over. Adam over here, decides to be a hero and takes off running before we can even determine what direction the shout was coming from."

"She needed help," he said, looking Christine in the eye. She smiled at him and he blushed slightly but he didn't look away.

"This will sting," she whispered as she poured some of the clear spirits over the wound and began to wipe it with a clean towel. Adam hissed slightly as she worked.

"She needed help alright. It was that young Clarice, the seamstress' girl. Poor girl was set upon by three thugs, intent on stealing all she had and god knows what else if our hero here hadn't gotten to her. Adam took care of two of the brutes, but the third got a good crack in before we could catch up to Adam and he took off down the street. Cornet got a shot off that winged him, but he managed to escape."

Christine was focused on her needlework as she deftly stitched the wound closed. She didn't notice Aramis enter the infirmary.

"I know Clarice," she said. "She's quite pretty," she said, eyes focused on her thread.

"Some might think so," said Adam, again turning red, gazing at the way she pursed her lips slightly as she sewed.

"Not sure she's Adam's type," said Bernard with a wink at Aramis and a smirk at his young friend, whose eyes flashed dangerously at the older musketeer.

"I told you we didn't need to bother Christine," he muttered darkly.

"I'm glad you did," she said, spreading her soothing salve over the wound so it smelled like rosemary and lavender. "There are only a few, but the wound needed stitches. Don't worry," she said, taking his chin in her hand, "You're still handsome," she said teasingly.

"If you ask me, a few well placed scars are like catnip to a certain type of woman," quirked Aramis as he leaned against the cabinet that stored the medical supplies.

Bernard laughed at this and Christine rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her grin.

"Did you just get back?" asked Adam rising.

Aramis nodded. "Three days on the road to deliver a letter, and three hard nights returning home," he said. He glanced quickly at Christine before saying: "I'm looking forward to barricading myself in a nice soft bed for two days without even looking outside at a tree." Adam and Bernard left laughing, patting Aramis on the shoulder as they left, closing the infirmary door behind them.

"You know," said Aramis, grabbing Christine by the waist as he walked her backwards until her back was pressed up against the cabinet, "I was hoping you might be available to join me in my self-imposed quarantine for a few days." Rolls of unused bandages fell from her hands as he kissed her.

Laughing softly, she ran her hands through his hair. "I missed you," she said as he grinned, and kissed her again.

"I thought this was supposed to be an area for the sick and injured," came Athos' drawling voice from the infirmary doorway.

"And you are neither," said Christine, stooping to toss a roll of bandages at the man. "Now get out unless you'd like to acquire a need for those bandages," she said. Aramis laughed and wrapped his arms around her tightly, restraining her and kissing her neck as he did so.

Athos smirked and quirked an eyebrow. "The Captain wants to see us," he said, "Should I tell him you're otherwise engaged?"

Aramis sighed heavily. "Duty calls," he said, and grasping Christine by the hand he kissed the inside of her wrist. "I'll be right back," he promised.

The marksman floated up the stairs in front of Athos, the swordsman smirking at the change in his brother's mood. It had rained the last two nights on the road, dampening all of their moods. Athos felt a sudden pain pierce his chest as he too, if only for a moment, could recall how to love and be loved by a woman could change everything. He pushed the thoughts of her aside and focused instead on the wooden steps underfoot.

Porthos and D'Artagnan were already at attention before the Captain. Aramis and Athos took their positions in line.

"Gentlemen," began the Captain. "I trust your journey to Le Havre went well?"

Athos looked quickly at his brothers before responding. "No complaints," he remarked.

Treville raised an eyebrow but did not inquire at the restless expressions on his men's faces. Looking down and shuffling some papers around on his desk, Treville continued. "Take the next two days off to recover from your journey," he said as his men fought the urge to leap for joy. The road to and from Le Havre was a difficult one and no doubt his men would be stiff and sore. "When you've sufficiently recovered from the road, there has been a rumour of a trader who has been dealing in stolen goods. I want you to look into that. See if there's any truth to it."

The men nodded at their dismissal and headed for the door.

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