A/N: This story has been a difficult one to write and it may be difficult for some to read. It will will cover some adult themes. I can only say I wrote this episode honestly, without any intention to offend anyone with the portrayal of its content. That being said, here goes.

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Saints and Sinners, Ch. 2

The next two days were near perfection for Christine and Aramis.

They spent their mornings in bed, discussing philosophy and theatre or with Aramis reading poetry from Christine's impressive library. They went for rides in the afternoon with a picnic in tow and spent the days languishing in the bright sunshine. He made love to her in the green grass outside of the city walls, away from the gossip of court or the call of duty or the propriety of station. Their evenings they drank richly from the Comtesse's wine cellar and from each other, reabsorbing all that they had missed of the other while parted, studying and memorizing every scar, freckle and beauty mark on the other's body.

The morning of the third day found Christine returned to the infirmary. Aramis had kissed her goodbye with that little wink that always made her heart flutter just a bit as he left the infirmary. She was smiling to herself as she restocked her shelves. She didn't notice the man watching her from the doorway.

"Heard that pup Adam's been hanging around here," said the man, startling Christine from her work.

"Oh! Gavreau! You startled me," she said.

"I like to catch 'em by surprise. Brings a different light to their eyes," he said cryptically. "Anyway, I said rumour has it, that that Mouse Adam's been playing around here while the Cat Aramis has been gone," he said, coming into the infirmary and leaning against the cabinet, blocking her way to the door.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," she said to him tersely.

She did not know Gavreau, but she knew of men like him. This wasn't the first time she had seen him look at her like that, but it was the first time she felt…threatened? Vulnerable? Something else? She wasn't sure how to describe the feeling, but she was certain she didn't like it.

"Not sure what kind of fun that Mouse can offer ya," he said, leaning over her with a leer. "Wondering when I might get a turn to play," he said, his hand twitching at his side.

"Christine," called Etienne as he entered the infirmary carrying a small satchel. "Oh...Gavreau," he said, surprised as he took in the tableau before him. Something didn't seem right to him about the way Christine was standing. Her back was stiff and she was shielding her right arm with a metal tray.

Gavreau turned and with a big grin, he clapped Etienne on the shoulder as he left the infirmary.

"Are you alright?" he asked as Christine let out a deep breath and lowered the metal tray. She held a scalpel in her right hand, which shook as she lay it down.

"Yes," she said, "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," he said as he stepped closer to his friend.

Etienne, like Aramis, was one of the few musketeers considered a field medic. Etienne's mother had been a gypsy and he had learned quite a bit of herb lore from her before joining the army. He and Christine and Aramis often traded knowledge about ways to treat certain wounds over a bottle of wine. When he looked at his friend, clearly shaken, his protective instincts kicked in.

"Did he do something to you? Did he hurt you? What did he say?" he asked, placing a hand on the trembling woman's arm.

"Nothing," she said, brushing him off, and taking the satchel from his hands, she began refilling jars with its contents.

"Christine," Etienne began again.

"It was nothing," she said, looking him in the eye. "Nothing to worry about. Promise me you won't tell Aramis," she said.

Etienne hesitated.

"Please," she said. "I don't want to cause trouble among the ranks over a few silly words, and I don't want to risk losing my position here because of it either. Please, Etienne. It really was nothing," she implored.

Etienne looked at her beseeching eyes and nodded his head slowly. He wouldn't say anything to Aramis, he promised, but that didn't mean he couldn't mention his suspicions to a few others…

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