A/N: After some champagne and truffles for Valentine's Day, some of us get sappy. Here's a post-Valentine's Day "special". xoxoxo

The Ask

"You are getting to be too used to this," he said as he watched her from the infirmary doorway.

Christine laughed as she continued rolling bandages. "Well," she said, "If you musketeers didn't keep injuring yourselves I'd have a lot less to do."

"Did you ever consider that some of these gentlemen might be intentionally injuring themselves in order to have a few brief moments of your attention?" Aramis asked as he stepped behind her. He placed his hands upon her waist and kissed the side of her neck. She leant into him, her hand reaching backwards, her fingers lacing themselves in his hair.

"You have an active imagination," she said to him, smiling. Her eyes were closed as she savoured the feeling of his lips against her skin.

"And you have no idea how beautiful you are," he replied.

She turned to face him and he kissed her passionately. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as he traced her breastbone with his lips.

"Aramis," she murmured, "You need to stop. Don't you have duty?"

"Just finished," he said with the roguish grin that drove her crazy. "And you?" he asked as he teasingly toyed with the clasp of her bodice.

She pushed him away and smirked at his surprise. "I'm done as soon as I've finished putting away these bandages," she said. "Maybe you can keep your hands busy with that."

Aramis pouted. She pressed herself against him and kissed him, taking his lower lip softly between her teeth for a moment. "I've got a few other ideas to keep your hands busy when we get back to the house," she murmured. Aramis raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"Not sure I can wait that long," he said as his eyes travelled down her neck and rested on her bosom. He pulled her close so he could feel her heartbeat against his.

"Then summon the coach," she said as she pushed off of him again to refocus on the bandages. She smirked as his mouth fell open and his eyes sparkled.

oOo

The day was bright and sunny as Christine sat out on the lawn with the Queen. The Dauphin had been born several months ago, and this was the first luncheon that the Queen had been willing to take without his presence. She had insisted that they dine far removed from the castle and so they had ventured to a remote part of the grounds with their guard of four musketeers and the six servants who were preparing their meal.

Christine smiled at Aramis at his spot on the perimeter as she went to help herself to some water near where Athos stood.

And that's when the merriment ended.

A servant approached the Queen, carrying a tray with two wine glasses on it. As he bowed before her, he suddenly withdrew a pistol he had clasped in his hand hidden beneath the tray and pointed it at the Queen's temple.

"Drop your weapons, musketeers, or this fine lady dies!" said the man.

"Anne!" cried Christine as she beheld the situation. The other "servants" spread out, one to each musketeer, all equally armed. Another man joined the leader, replacing him as he too held his pistol against the Queen.

The leader cackled insanely. The others grinned menacingly.

"What a treat. What a treat!" he roared. "It looks as though we caught us some nobility!" he shouted. It appeared as though he did not recognize the Queen of France and had simply thought he had come upon another group of nobles who tended to hover around the palace. The man was clearly a lunatic.

"I suggest you put your weapons away and withdraw. You are clearly not of a sound mind if you think you will succeed here," Athos said dryly.

"And I said to drop your weapons," he said and pointed the pistol at Athos.

The musketeers had no choice; with the Queen's life in danger, they had to surrender their weapons. Athos dropped his pistol so it landed at Christine's feet.

"What do you want?" Christine demanded. "You are on the palace grounds. You will never escape. Tell us what you want so this can end."

The madman looked back over his shoulder at the man who still had his pistol pressed to the Queen's head. They grinned at each other.

"I like her," he laughed. "She's feisty!"

The surrounding bandits all chuckled. The musketeers tensed. The man watching Porthos pressed a gun against him as well, while Aramis and D'Artagnan were forced to their knees. Christine heard the click of the pistol of the man who stood behind her and Athos.

"Well my dear, we want to rob you. Though I thought we might have some fun first," he said, his Cheshire-like grin growing.

"We have nothing," whispered the Queen, her voice and body trembling.

"Au contraire," said the man holding her captive. "The jewels you're wearin' could set us all up pretty nicely," he sneered.

"You're insane," Athos stated.

"No, we're hungry," the leader responded. "So we will take our prize from you and we will kill you. We're glad you happened to choose this particular site to dine in. No one will even hear the pistol shots."

The Queen gasped. It had been her decision to dine so far from the palace.

"What game are you playing?" Aramis asked "Let the women go." His eyes traveled to Christine.

"Well now you've hit on it, Musketeer," said the leader of the group of maniacs. "It is a game. See, my friend Horace here," he said, gesturing to the large man holding the Queen, "Is of the belief that the nobility have no hearts. They know nothing about passion or compassion. How else could they let so many starve while they feast on delicacies on palace grounds? We thought we might even the score a little bit. You know, robbing the rich and giving to the poor. Namely, the poor us," he laughed.

"You've lost your minds," said D'Artagnan. "Let the women go and we will promise not to kill you all."

"Not until we play our game!" he cackled.

Athos had grown impatient. "What do you want?" he shouted. "If it's the jewels, take them and leave, though I swear to you, each one of you will die for this."

"Oooh, fiery," sneered the leader again, "You'll do nicely. Here's our little game then! Horace believes that the nobility are heartless. I, however, am a romantic. Prove me right. Show Horace that there are hearts behind your uniforms and ornate bodices."

"How do ya expect us to do that?" growled Porthos.

"Simple," he said, gesturing to Athos and Christine. "I want you to kiss her." Athos' eyes flashed with even more cold anger at the madman. "Prove that love and lust are possible emotions for your kind. If I believe there's passion in the embrace, we'll let you leave. Not with your fine items, but with your lives at least."

The musketeers fell silent as the lunacy of the situation sunk in.

"That is insane," said Christine finally, her eyes flickering to Aramis before casting around the circle of laughing villains. "Passion cannot be forced under duress!"

"Kiss him, or die my dear. And make it count," he said as he aimed both of his pistols at Athos and Christine.

"You will die for this," Athos said, stonily.

"Come now, sir, you should thank me. She's very beautiful. I for one should like her to remain so, but if you insist…" he focused his aim on Christine's head.

"Fine! It's fine. Just do it Athos, so no one will get hurt," Christine said as she turned to face him, her eyes blazing. She dropped her left hand and readjusted her skirt. Athos' eyes glimpsed the short dagger that Christine kept hidden at her hip. He placed his right hand upon the left side of her waist. She raised her hands to his neck.

All eyes were focused on the two of them; the madman beamed as he looked back at his friend Horace who sneered. Aramis was pale, his jaw taut; his eyes had grown cold.

Athos raised his hand and laced his fingers of his left hand through her hair.

"We only have one shot," he muttered in her ear. She nodded and pulling him close, stepping nearer to the discarded pistol. She took a deep breath and they kissed passionately as Athos' hand travelled down her side, each imagining the lips of another.

The madman cheered as their lips met and looked back at Horace who guffawed. The air was sucked out of Aramis. A cold stone had dropped into his stomach.

Suddenly, Christine dropped to the ground. A blade flashed in Athos' hand and a pistol shot rang out. Everyone stood stunned as the dagger embedded in the madman's throat, silencing his cheers, and Horace fell backwards, a bullet hole having forged its way through the middle of his forehead; the pistol was still smoking in Christine's hand.

In less than a second the musketeers took charge. Porthos smashed his head backwards into the face on the man behind him. He followed that with a fierce punch to the man's jaw. The snap of his neck was audible.

Aramis spun on his knees, grasping the wrist of his captor and turning the man's pistol upon its owner as the shot rang out. D'Artagnan leapt up, and batting away the pistol, he grabbed the man's dagger from its sheath and embedded it into him. Athos turned and grabbed the man holding the pistol behind him. They struggled for a moment before another blast went off and the man crumpled to the ground at his feet.

Christine had run to the Queen and helped her to take cover behind the chaise she had been resting on. Her eyes were wide and frantic.

"It's okay," Christine whispered, "It's okay, you're safe. You're safe. The Musketeers have protected you. You're safe," she repeated, caressing the Queen's hands. The Queen looked into her friend's eyes and nodded, calm settling into the blue orbs. As the firing and fighting stopped, the Queen let out a breath.

"Christine!" shouted Athos, as he cast his eyes around the carnage.

"We're here," she responded. "We're fine," she said as she helped the Queen to her feet. The Queen held tightly to Christine's hand.

"Porthos," said Athos, "Take Christine home. I saw two more figures flee through the surrounding trees. Aramis, D'Artagnan and I will return the Queen to the palace. Let's reconvene at the Garrison. See if any of your contacts at the Court have any information about this."

Porthos nodded as D'Artagnan rushed forward with the horses.

"With me, your Majesty," Athos said.

"Athos," she stammered, "Christine," she said turning to her friend and squeezing her hand tightly, "Thank you. Without you…"

"It doesn't matter," Christine said, placing her hand against the Queen's face. "Your musketeers will get you safely to the palace."

The Queen nodded and was lifted to her seat in front of Athos.

Christine stood back, her eyes desperate to find Aramis.

He had his back to her as he adjusted the girth strap on his mare.

"Aramis," she said and he tensed.

"Porthos will take you back," he said coldly as he mounted.

Christine stepped back from him as though scolded, her expression clouding over. He could not face her yet as his heart and his stomach continued to somersault after seeing the way Athos had kissed her and without another word he followed Athos across the vast palace lawns, his brow creased and his jaw set tight.

Porthos stared after the marksman, his expression dark as well. He placed a hand on Christine's shoulder and he felt her tremble slightly. Silently he helped her mount his horse and drew up behind her. Her back was tense and her expression lost.

Porthos rode quickly to the rue St. Germain. He led her into one of the parlours and told Marie to fetch something warm for Christine to eat. He poured her a large glass of brandy. She was still trembling slightly.

"You alright?" he asked her gently as he knelt and took her hands in his.

Her grey eyes were foggy. "I think so," she whispered. "I don't really know…Aramis…Aramis…is he alright? Was he hurt? I couldn't tell…"

"He's fine," Porthos said, squeezing her hands. "No one was hurt. You saved a lot of lives Christine. That was quite a shot."

She nodded slightly and looked down at her hands. "It doesn't get easier, does it?" she whispered. He could feel her hands shaking in his.

Porthos frowned. He realized suddenly that this was the second man Christine had killed. The second time her life had been physically threatened and she was forced to take a life.

"Porthos, please, tell Aramis I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What?" he asked, his voice displaying his shock.

"I think he's angry with me…He couldn't look at me after…the shot…or the kiss," she said weakly. "I think he feels…like I betrayed him. Please," she said. "Tell him I'm sorry," she said desperately.

Porthos' eyes grew dark as he thought about their departure from the palace. Aramis had been cold. Christine had just saved the life of the Queen of France. She was shaken by having to take another life, and when she reached out for her love to ensure his wellbeing, he had his back to her, overcome with his own emotions. If possible, Porthos frowned even deeper.

"I'll talk to him. He was probably just a bit shocked…I think we all were…and we had to get the Queen to safety," he said as he brought his hand up to cup the woman's face. "Marie will bring you something to eat. It'll help," he said. "I've got to meet the others. Don't worry. I'll look after Aramis."

"Thank you," she said and gave him a sad smile.

oOo

Athos and Aramis returned to the Garrison from the palace. D'Artagnan was to remain with the Queen until replacements arrived.

The pair rode in a tense silence before arriving at the empty courtyard. The sun had begun to set and the torches had been lit.

They dismounted and Athos cast a glance over at Aramis.

"Whatever's bothering you, speak it now," he said.

Aramis rounded on him, fire blazing in his eyes. "I will ask you this for the last time Athos," he said icily. "Are you in love with her?"

Athos stared back at his brother. "Aramis, are you mad? How could I love her when her world is entirely made up of you?" he made to turn away.

Aramis grabbed his shoulder and spun Athos to face him.

"That's not an answer," he growled.

Athos sighed. Then, looking his brother straight in the eyes and reading the hurt and confusion in their dark depths, he said slowly, "Yes Aramis, I do love her. But not in the way that you think."

Athos saw Aramis flinch at these words so continued swiftly. "Christine is my sister Aramis, as much as you and Porthos and D'Artagnan are my brothers. Having her back in my life has brought me more joy than I ever imagined," he said as Aramis wilted before him. He grasped the medic's arm, forcing the brown eyes to meet his. "That joy, Aramis, comes from seeing her happy and in love with you."

"But the kiss… it looked…" Aramis whispered, his eyes burning franticly.

"The kiss was a necessary diversion. There was no meaning other than desperation behind it. I knew Christine had been wearing her blade. I had dropped my pistol by her intentionally in case an opportunity arose. I do not love Christine as you do."

He sighed and continued. "If there was any passion that resided in that kiss, I am ashamed to admit it, but it was because my thoughts were elsewhere, as I'm sure it was not my lips that Christine imagined in that moment."

"I am sorry, brother," Aramis said, running his hands through his hair.

"Ya should be," called Porthos as he roared through the garrison gates and marched over to Aramis, thunder flashing in his eyes.

Aramis looked up, startled. "Porthos, what's wrong?"

"Do you have any idea what just happened?" he said, "Christine just killed someone. The second man who has threatened her life. She did it to save all of us and the Queen of France! And you, you let your jealousy over a stupid kiss cloud your mind so that you couldn't even look at her when she turned to you for comfort."

Silence rang throughout the courtyard. Aramis felt himself breaking at the realization of how he had acted.

Porthos went on, his voice dangerously low. "She was shaking, Aramis. Shaking! And when I got her inside, all she could think about was you. She was worried you were hurt, or were disgusted with her for the shot. Worse, she thought you were angry with her for being forced to kiss Athos."

"I'm sorry," Aramis said. "I didn't even think. I couldn't even...I saw…and then I…everything just went red. I need to go, I need to see her," he said desperately.

"Stay where you are," screamed a voice as Christine was shoved roughly through the garrison gates.

oOo

She had lurked in the shadows as the big musketeer left the house. Stealthily she crept inside. She found the noblewoman seated in a parlour, distracted. As she turned to face her, she struck her across the face and she fell from her chair.

"Get up," she growled lowly as she pointed her pistol at the comtesse at her feet. "Don't make a sound. You're going to pay for what you've done today."

Christine was forced to her feet. The irate woman clutched Christine by her hair and pressed the gun against her side as they walked quickly from the room and out the door. The streets of Paris were empty as most people would be turning in for supper. The sun was sinking redly behind the Parisian rooftops.

"Please," Christine said weakly, fighting to pull herself together as her captor tightened her grip, "You don't have to do this."

"The man you killed today was the love of my life and my best friend," she hissed, pulling Christine's head back viciously. She pressed the pistol harshly into her side as they marched. "You'll pay for taking him from me."

"Please," Christine tried again. "I had no choice! He was threatening the Queen."

"Silence!" she hissed, slamming the butt of the pistol into Christine's ribcage. Christine gasped harshly at the impact. "I'm going to make sure you feel the same loss I do," she said and continued to push Christine through the empty Parisian streets.

Christine's heart sank as she saw the garrison gates draw closer. She struggled, but another firm jab with the pistol stole the air from her lungs.

"Stay where you are!" the woman screamed as she threw Christine to the ground through the gates and pointed her pistol at her.

"Christine," gasped Aramis, glaring at the erratic woman who had her pistol trained on his love. "Let her go," he snarled.

"What do you think you're doing?" said Athos.

"Silence!" she screamed again. "Drop your weapons, all of you!"

The three men hesitated, then did what she said as the woman seized Christine and pulled her to her feet, the barrel of the pistol poised under her chin.

Aramis could see the blood on Christine's lip where it had split when she had been struck. His blood boiled and he fought to control it as the woman pressed the pistol's mouth against the neck of his beloved.

"Think about what you are doing," said Athos, "You are holding a prisoner in a musketeer garrison. There is no way you can escape this."

"There is nothing I have left to live for," she spat at him. "This witch murdered my husband and my best friend today. I'm going to make her feel my same loss," she cried.

"How?" asked Porthos

"By making her choose, which one of them is going to die. The friend or the lover," she snarled.

"What?" said Christine, breathlessly.

"Oh yes," the woman hissed into her ear. "It's actually quite generous of me. You can choose whether to save your friend," she said pointing the pistol at Athos, "Or your lover," she said turning it on Aramis. "Don't tell me I'm wrong. I saw everything that happened on the grounds today. I know that this man is your lover even if those men were too blind to see it. Pick now, who will die. You will add one of their bloods to your hands today. Then you will understand my loss and all that you took from me!"

There was silence for a moment as Christine's gaze darted between the two men. "Please," she said desperately, "You cannot ask me to choose."

"Ask? Ask! I am demanding it! I will ensure that you can feel my loss!"

"Loss?" spat Aramis with a quick glance at Athos. "Some loss. If anything, you should be thanking us for ridding society of that scourge."

"Come now Aramis, look at this lunatic. Perhaps that was the best she could hope to get," said Athos raising an eyebrow as he shifted to look at the marksman.

"Quite right, mon ami," he said casually. "Actually, he's probably grateful his suffering has ended. He was practically asking us for a way out. Horace, was it?"

"Indeed. Can you imagine a worse fate than waking up to a wretch like this each morning?" he said, as they baited the woman, buying time.

"Shut up," she said, her voice full of rage. "Perhaps I should just kill her instead," she said pushing Christine forward again so she stood between Athos and Aramis.

Aramis laughed to hide his tension. "You know what Athos? He probably didn't even need to suffer that much. A tall, handsome man like that? He probably had many women waiting on the side."

"Without a doubt," said Athos, "And could you blame him?"

"Silence," she roared, her arms shaking as she shifted the barrel between Athos and Aramis. "He loved me. And I loved him. He loved me, I know it," she said hysterically.

Quietly, D'Artagnan entered the garrison from behind her, his pistol drawn. "Shut your mouth. Shut your mouth or she dies," she said ferociously.

Aramis laughed once more in her face. "Love? You think that was love? How could any man love such a vile, twisted thing like you?"

With a scream she swung the gun to face Aramis.

"No!" cried Christine.

Two shots rang out and the woman fell to the ground, D'Artagnan's pistol smoking in his hand.

"Good shot," said Aramis as Porthos and Athos restrained the now sobbing and hysterical woman. D'Artagnan's shot had pierced her shoulder. Without another word, Porthos led her out of the garrison and towards the Chatelet.

"Good work," said Athos, smirking slightly at Aramis. "Did you see where her shot went?" he asked.

"Aramis?" whimpered a voice, and both men spun around to face Christine. She looked down at her side and removed her hand from where it was pressed. Scarlet was blossoming beneath it through the layers of her pale gown. She sank slowly to the ground and time stood still.

"Christine," Aramis exhaled, as the life drained from him. His eyes flashed as he leapt to her side. "Christine! What did you do?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, bringing her bloodstained hand to touch his face. Her breathing was laboured. "I couldn't let her hurt you," she said as she continued to struggle to breathe, her eyes closing.

"Christine! Christine!" he cried desperately as he held her against him. He looked down at her gown and the growing red stain and went into action. "We need to get this dress off her!" he cried frantically.

Grasping the knife Athos handed him, Aramis sliced through the bindings of her corset and desperately tore the bodice off of her. He scooped her into his arms and ran for the infirmary.

oOo

Several hours had passed and the dawn light was just beginning to filter into the garrison. Aramis had moved her into his quarters where he sat next to the bed, his head bowed, as he prayed fervently over her. She lay pale and unmoving in his bed, dressed in one of his shirts – her blood-covered shift was draped with her skirts and ruined bodice on the chair by the table.

Tears continued to roll down Aramis' cheeks as he looked at her. Reaching out, he stroked her face, touching her cheek, her eyes, her lips. He placed his hand once again over her heart to confirm its soft thrum. He cried and he kissed her and he prayed.

The bullet wound wasn't too deep, but she had bled profusely, and knowing how exhausted she had been from the earlier events of the day – the stress he had put her through, he reprimanded himself harshly – it was unsurprising that she had succumbed to this deep unconscious state.

"Please lord, please," he prayed desperately. "Don't take her from me, please. I know I don't deserve your mercy, but please Lord, please. Don't take her from me. Please…" he prayed as he dropped his head to the mattress, trying to stifle the tears that continued to fall.

He stayed that way for hours, desperately praying for his miracle as his love lay motionless.

Slowly, her fingers began to twitch; Aramis did not notice through his desperation.

Gently she raised her hand and began to stroke Aramis' hair. He bolted upright at the touch, grasping her hand and bringing it to his lips. He kissed her palm, her fingertips and the inside of her wrist where her pulse beat.

"Aramis," she muttered groggily as she slowly began to open her eyes.

"I'm here mi Tesora, I'm here," he said. He sat next to her on the bed and placed her hand over his heart. With his free hand he cradled her face.

She smiled softly at his words. "You're alright," she murmured.

"I'm fine love, I'm fine. You stepped in front of a bullet for me. Are you mad?" he said exasperatedly.

"I couldn't let her hurt you…not with you thinking…not without explaining…I love you Aramis. I'm sorry," she stammered.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, my darling. I'm the one who should be ashamed for how I acted. I was jealous. All I could see was the way you kissed him. All I saw was how he kissed you, and everything just went black as the my soul had been pulled from my body... I should have comforted you. I should have insisted that I take you home. I should have held you and made sure you were ok, but at that moment, all I could see was the two of you – my brother and you…the thing I cherish most. I couldn't process it…"

"Shh…mi cuorazon, mi Tesoro," she whispered to him, "It's ok, I understand," she said. She grimaced as she tried to raise herself to lean against the wall. He deftly placed a pillow behind her so she was more comfortable. She gasped in pain as she felt the damage to her side. His dark eyes filled with tears.

"You have two broken ribs," he said softly. "The bullet…Your bodice slowed its impact so it hit no major organs but you bled heavily."

"Nothing vital," she whispered, "but it feels like I've been struck by a cannon."

"Nothing vital?" he asked her incredulously. "How could you say that? How could you do that? Christine, do you not know how vital you are? Do you not know that you are everything to me?" he said, tears in his eyes once more.

"When I saw you fall, the world ended," he said and gathered her face in his hands, her eyes shining fiercely with tears of their own. "Why would you do that? I am worth nothing compared to you, Christine. Would you seriously give your life for mine?" he whispered.

"Yes," she said firmly, anger tingeing her tone as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Yes Aramis. Yes. I would give up everything – my lands, my title, my life. Everything for you. Everything. I don't know what it will take for you to believe me, to understand me, but YOU are MY world. You are all that matters to me. Can you not accept the same love that you have given me? If you were to ask me I'd give it all away if it meant that I could have you always."

Her eyes burned into his as she tangled her fingers in his hair. She gasped slightly as she pressed their foreheads together and the pain flared again in her side as she leant towards him but she ignored it.

"I will love you forever," he said, brushing the hair from her face once more and kissing her fiercely.

"And I will love you longer than that," she teased him breathlessly. He helped her lean against the wall once more. "This really hurts," she whined with a small laugh.

"Thank goodness you had all those bandages prepared," he laughed as he joyfully kissed her again and thanked God for the miracle of their love.

oooooooooooooooooo