„You've lost him? Like what, a Penny? "
Porthos glared at Athos, but didn't say a thing. The man behind the counter of the little bookshop seemed far to amused for the whole situation. He could bet that even Rogers two colored eyes were sparkling with laughter.
And if it wasn't enough the doorbell of the shop made a happy little sound when the door opened. So even the building had fun in his misery. But Aramis would understand him.
"What happened? You said there is an emergency?" Aramis stated worried and sat next to Porthos on the small sofa. When his friend only sighted, he looked confused in Athos direction. But the man was patting Rogers black fur with a slight smile on his face. So no explanation there, but he wouldn't smile when something bad had happened.
"Could someone talk to me?"
"I lost D'Artagnan."
There was silence and Porthos looked at the carpet between his feet. He didn't dare to look into Aramis disappointed eyes.
"You lost your partner?" Voice quiet, unbelieving. Porthos only nodded.
"Like you lose your wallet when you have drunk way too much? Or, he isn't dead, is he? No, Athos won't be literally laughing at you when something like that had happened. So what's wrong?"
Porthos could only stare at Aramis. Even his best friend thought that the situation was funny, it was definitely not funny. It seemed to be more like a catastrophe.
"He has a little undercover job. Nothing to serious, but we were supposed to meet each other today. That went well, but then I wanted to follow him. To make sure he is alright you know. And I could get him, when something went wrong. But I lost him in the crowd. One second I was right behind him and in the next he was gone. Simply gone."
Aramis hesitated for a moment. "Well, you know that undercover means, that he shouldn't be found by someone? That's his job, so maybe you should be proud of him, that he seemed to be good at that. And don't panic about him being competent."
Porthos snorted, maybe Aramis was right, but something didn't feel right. Maybe he was a mother hen and there was nothing wrong. So he nodded and straightened his back.
Athos came around the counter, with three mugs of hot steaming coffee. "Think you are working actually, so no whiskey for you, but you won't leave without a cup of coffee."
Trust Athos to believe in the magic of coffee, it will solve every problem. And when it won't whiskey definitely would.
When Porthos thought about it, Athos could really solve everything with one or the other. But that was a mystery for another day, now he had to find his protégé.
In the end, Porthos was in great need of whiskey. D'Artagnan hadn't been hurt, but it had been close to that. He admitted later, after they had done their job, that he had been tied to some barrels of gunpowder at some point, but had been able to convince his target of his innocence.
After that Porthos had gone straight to the little bookshop, were the whiskey was already set out on the counter. He raised an eyebrow at Athos, who only shrugged.
"Remember I told you, that he would be alright."
"Yeah, but you forgot to mention some barrels of gun powder, have you?"
"Won't have done something good to make panic. The lad is good, he will be better than you someday. Believe me. Where is Aramis? Haven't you told him to come?"
"You're the one with the glass sphere, ask yourself." Porthos grumbled and sipped at the golden liquor.
Athos only smiled and filled another glass when the doorbell rang once more.