A/N: Hi there readers! Welcome to the next "episode" in my series! I had someone ask me what role Christine would take on with the Musketeers...would she become a spy like the Duchess of Savoy? Would she become a de facto member of the Musketeers like Constance? Let's find out, shall we?

As always, thank you so much for reading. I love getting your feedback and story ideas, so if you've got the time and you're so inclined, drop me a line! Cheers!

By Any Other Name

Chapter 1

Aramis and Porthos rode in through the garrison gates, dust-covered and sore from a long and arduous mission. What should have been a simple delivery to the Comte de Maille turned into anything but, when the Comte's son insisted on challenging Porthos to a wrestling match once he had seen the size of the strapping musketeer.

Despite their profuse and polite refusal, the Viscomte took matters into his own hands when he and a few of his henchmen decided to attack the musketeers at the inn where they were spending the night. The musketeers won the bout handily, sending the embarrassed noble fleeing into the night. There would be no rest for the musketeers though, who determined it would be best if they left at dawn, before the true bruises and the bruised ego of the Viscomte might make themselves felt. A scorned noble was never something to trifle with.

The two-day journey back to Paris was a strained one as they were constantly on alert for potential pursuit. It also rained both nights making it impossible to light a campfire, so the musketeers were cold, tired and tense as they rode through the gates. D'Artagnan greeted them as they dismounted stiffly.

"Tell ya what, next time some noble son challenges me, I'm just gonna thrash'em soundly in the middle of the ball room if that'll at least get me one good night's rest," grumbled Porthos as he stretched his shoulders.

"Now Porthos, we were being polite," said Aramis.

"A lot of good that did us," Porthos muttered.

"Well…you still got to give the Viscomte a thrashing," said Aramis, grinning.

D'Artagnan and Porthos chuckled lightly.

"How have things been here?" Porthos asked.

"Quiet," D'Artagnan deadpanned, pulling another grin from the brawler.

"Is Christine here?" Aramis asked, an eagerness suddenly in his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair.

D'Artagnan couldn't help but smile at the medic's reaction. "Yes, I saw her in the infirmary earlier. The Captain wants to see you though. He said to bring you to his office as soon as you returned."

Aramis frowned slightly at these words and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at D'Artagnan who shrugged in response.

"That sounds like trouble. Guess your reunion's gonna have t'wait. What've you gotten us into this time?" Porthos asked with a laugh as he clapped Aramis on the shoulder dispelling a small cloud of dust.

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Aramis as he beat as much dust out of his doublet as possible. He cast a longing eye towards the infirmary before heaving a deep sigh. "Let's get this over with. Lead on, D'Artagnan."

D'Artagnan led the way to Treville's office where he knocked twice before entering the room after a familiar bark of "Come!"

Aramis followed him and removed his hat. Porthos shut the door behind them.

Treville was seated at his desk, his hands clasped in front of his chin, his eyes studying the desktop as if trying to arrange the puzzle pieces only he could see. Athos stood across from him, frowning as he leant against the support column facing the door, his arms crossed. He raised his eyes as his brothers entered. Aramis cast him an inquisitive glance but Athos' expression was as inscrutable as ever.

Sitting in front of Athos and across from Treville was the Comtesse des Etoiles, Aramis' Christine. She smiled at him as he entered, a slight flush coming to her cheeks as her eyes met those of her husband. Aramis couldn't help but smile as he saw the woman that he dreamt about each night, though the smile faltered at the serious expression on her face and the overall strained countenance of the room.

"Anything to report?" Treville asked, his eyebrow raised.

Aramis glanced back at Porthos, who also was picking up on the tense energy of the room. "Nothing worth mentioning," Aramis said smoothly. "It seems as though perhaps I should be asking you the same question?"

Treville sighed and brought his hand up to console the bridge of his nose. "Take a seat, Aramis," he said.

Aramis' eyes widened. "I think I'll remain standing," he replied, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. Something was wrong. His eyes flickered from Treville to Athos to Christine in rapid succession. He could feel Porthos and D'Artagnan shifting uneasily behind him.

Christine was focussing on the table. Athos' bright eyes caught the marksman's before shifting to focus on his oldest friend, the Comtesse.

Silence reigned for a good minute.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Aramis asked, a worried edge to his voice.

"As you know, several years ago, there were a string of robberies at the palace. Some of the Queen's prized jewels were taken," Treville began. "Recently, one or two of those items have begun to make their re-emergence in society."

"We have received word," Treville continued, "of an underground auction to take place outside the city walls. It is rumoured that there are other items for purchase at this auction in addition to the stolen jewels – weapons, most likely. It is our duty to infiltrate the premises, confiscate the items and bring the villains running this to justice."

Aramis nodded his head, his eyes flickering once more between Treville, Athos and Christine. This mission did not seem too exceptional…there must be some other piece that he was missing.

"How are we to infiltrate?" he asked.

"The event is by invitation only. It will be heavily guarded. Sneaking in is out of the question."

"And I'm assuming you've managed to procure an invitation?" D'Artagnan asked from behind Aramis.

Treville nodded slowly. "The Duke de Bari has just died and his young wife has been apprehended under suspicion of his murder. She and her lover are both currently awaiting trial at the Chatelet. It appears as though the Duchess was to be an attendee of the event," said Treville.

Aramis' stomach plummeted at these words. His eyes sought Christine who was refusing to make eye contact with him. "No" he said firmly.

"Aramis –"

"No," he repeated more loudly. "How can you even consider this?" he asked Athos incredulously.

"This would be our only way into the gathering," Athos said.

"We have been chasing these villains for nearly ten years," added Treville.

"No," Aramis insisted. "It's far too dangerous."

Treville tried again, "Aramis, this may be the only –"

"She's my wife! She's not a musketeer!" cried Aramis, stunning Treville into silence at his outrage.

Christine rose from her chair and approached him. He was breathing hard as he tried to control his temper. She stepped close to him and placed her hands around his neck. He raised his hands to grip her wrists and stared deeply into her eyes.

"I am your wife Aramis, but I am also a citizen of France, and I am still able to make my own decisions. If it is within my power to help, it is my duty to do so."

"Christine – " Aramis began, but she interrupted him.

"It will only be for a few days. I am the only person suited to impersonate the Duchess in order to bring these men to justice and you will be with me the whole time. I am not afraid."

"Christine has insisted. You know that I would never put her life in danger if there were any other option," said Treville. Aramis' dark eyes gleamed as they met the blue eyes of his captain.

"What do you think?" he asked Athos.

Christine glanced over her shoulder to make eye contact with the swordsman.

Athos frowned. "I think it's dangerous. We don't know how many people will be attending or how many guards might be on hand. We also don't know when we might see an opportunity like this again. The goods and weaponry that we might recover could be devastating if they fell into the wrong hands."

"That's not an answer," Aramis said angrily.

"Aramis, do you trust me?" said Christine, her eyes boring into her husband's once again.

"Christine – "

"Do you trust me, Aramis?"

The medic sighed heavily. "With my life, my love, with my life."

"As I trust you with mine. This is a risk I am willing to take. It is my duty. But I would be more comfortable if I knew that I would have you supporting me," she said softly.

He stared into her determined face and knew the decision was already made. He nodded firmly. "I will stand by you in all things, to whatever end," he said. She smiled at him and kissed him and the room exhaled in relief.

oOo