A/N Well what do you know? My computer is fixed! It's a miracle…. Now to continue with the story of our misadventures in 17th century France.
Shawnee, I already told you that you can come over to my house and USE MY COMPUTER!! But you never did so…
Umm… I blame human error?
I thought you blamed your dad?
Uh… I don't remember that! Anyhow, on with the story while Brenna and I argue this out…
"So..." Chris said into the still silence of the room. The musketeers looked at him wearily, trying to figure out what to do with them. Chris opened his mouth but all that came out was "Owww..." as Shawnee twisted and crushed his foot beneath her own silently, unnoticed to those not looking under the table. Brenna elbowed her sharply and Shawnee pulled her foot back towards herself, tucking it behind her other one. She gave a somewhat silent "Hmph" and decided to look around the rather small apartment.
They were seated at the far end of a wooden table, either leaning against the wall or sitting on a chair or table edge. The musketeers chose to stay at the other end, seemingly as far from them as possible without letting them out of the room or their sight. Brenna folded her hands and rested her arms on the table.
"You obviously have questions for us so why don't you just ask them and get this over with? We won't be going anywhere anytime soon." She smiled slightly when they looked rather affronted by her boldness. Aramis asked the first question.
"Would you care to tell us your names?" Brenna sent Shawnee a side glance and saw her return an almost unnoticeable nod. She turned back to face the waiting musketeers.
"I guess that couldn't be a problem. My name's Brenna. The boy with the love for alcohol is Chris and "Mister Silent" against the wall is Jordan. And the one who kicked D'Artagnan in the face is Shawnee." D'Artagnan gave her a heavy scowl which Shawnee countered with an "oh-so-innocent" smile. Brenna couldn't help but chuckle at their silent exchange.
"Where are you from?" Athos pressed calmly. Jordan raised a cynical eyebrow and opened his mouth to respond when Brenna dug her nails into his arm. Shawnee watched with half closed eyes before giving the evasive answer of "That is none of your concern. All you need to know is we are not a threat." D'Artagnan gave a rather doubting snort. He stood from his chair with a sigh.
"As much as I would like to stay and try and talk to these crazy children, I really have to be going. You're coming with me." He gestured to Shawnee before walking towards the door. Her blue eyes widened behind her glasses and she sent the other three a pleading look. When she reached the door, she looked back one more time to see Brenna watching her. She mouthed the words 'help me' but all Brenna did was give a wide smile and waggled her fingers at her in wave. Shawnee returned with an obscene gesture before slipping out the door and down the stairs to catch up with the musketeer captain. Aramis pointed to Jordan.
"Blonde boy with the strange glass things on your face. Follow me." Jordan yawned, stretched, and left with the priest. Porthos grabbed Chris with a grunt and hauled him out the door to his strong protests.
"Guess that leaves me with you boy. Let's go get a drink and talk." Brenna heard him say as the two men left. Athos looked down the table at her silently, watching her for a minute before standing himself. He crooked his hand in a 'follow me' motion and waited for her to pass him through the doorway before leaving himself. Brenna's mind raced frantically.
'What do I do?! What do I say?! I can't say anything about our time or it could ruin everything! They already think we're crazy. I just hope the boys don't spill anything. And Shawnee better keep her mouth shut as well.' She plastered on a fake smile and walked alongside Athos into the maze of the streets of Paris.
Shawnee trailed the man at a fair distance, wringing her hands fearfully as they made their way towards the palace grounds. As they entered the compound, she could feel the curious eyes of many boring into her back. She unconsciously picked up her speed and closed the distance between the two of them, glancing all around to see the two of them being watched with suspicion. She felt another pair of eyes on her and looked up to see D'Artagnan watching her quietly. She gulped and looked down at her feet, keeping her hands clasped. He gave a derisive snort and continued towards the building. She kept pace with him and started to lift her head to look around only to see eyes watching them. Once through the tall wooden doors, the interrogation started.
"So, you must have something you enjoy doing whenever you have free time right?" She nodded but did not speak. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head with a dry chuckle.
"Are you going to tell me?" She gave a playful smile but shook her head in a negative response. He returned it with an undisguised frown. The smile dropped off of her face quickly and she looked to her feet, wringing her hands once more.
"Your feet are not going to get you out of this you know." She looked up at him; her expression one of confusion, possibly wondering if he was sane. He sighed and rubbed his temples in a clockwise motion, trying to dispel the forming headache.
"I'm just trying to get you to feel a little better in these surroundings. After all, your friend said you won't be going anywhere for a while. So you must not have anywhere TO go back to right? Orphans or runaways perhaps?" She spun around so fast, eyes sparking with anger.
"We are not runaways nor are we orphans! We just… got a little… lost! Yeah, that's it! Lost!" She stated hopefully, watching his face warily for some sign he believed her. He stopped and stared out a window.
"I don't believe you if that's what you're wondering." He turned and looked her right in the eye before she could duck her head again.
"And I think you should start telling the truth and soon. It will come out sooner or later." She pouted childishly, crossing her arms and turning away in a huff.
"You'll have to just wait it out then. Because you will get nothing out of me." He gave her a heavy scowl and sat down at his desk to go over some paper work while she stood by the window, watching the musketeers go about their business.
Athos sent the girl a sideways glance before giving an awkward cough. Brenna looked up at him, waiting for him to say something, anything to her, but when he went back into an impenetrable silence, she went back to taking in the scenery. He looked at her again and chose his next words carefully.
"So your name is... Brenna right?" She gave him a strange look before slowly nodding. He nodded, just to confirm it in his own head before pressing on.
"You don't seem like you are from this area of France." He gave her clothes a quick glance. "Or from France at all." She nodded again, trying to dodge questions where she would have to speak and could possibly mess up the answer.
"If you were to tell me where you are from, my friends and I could help you get back." He stated calmly. She kept her face blank but was cheering inside. This question she could answer without a mistake.
"I'm afraid I can't do that for… very personal reasons. But like Shawnee said, we aren't a threat." She paused watching for a change in his expression but saw he had the same stony mask. What she didn't realise that Athos was starting to become a little impatient with the strange girl.
"So…" He paused, trying to think of another question. "Did you… do anything of interest where you come from?" She gave a happy smile.
"Actually, I'm a practising musician. I play the flute. Shawnee plays the clarinet." Athos listened but his mind was whirling. 'A flute I can understand but what in the name of God is a clarinet?!' He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully before trying to press for more.
"Is there anything else you do?" She nodded, eager to share.
"Yes. I love to draw. Art is one of my favourite subjects! Although now I wish I'd brought my sketchbook…" Athos blinked in shock but she didn't notice. 'A woman artist?! Unbelievable!' They had reached a fork in the street and stood there trying to choose a direction. Brenna looked up at him through her hazel coloured eyes.
"Now what?" He gave a strange look before going down the left fork and the two of them continued silently on their way.
"So... do you... go to church?" Aramis asked suddenly, unable to think of another question. Jordan gave him a surprised look, not expecting that to be the first question out of his mouth.
"Yes..." Aramis gave a nod of approval.
"That's good." Then they fell into a tense silence. Jordan tugged at his jacket, almost as if it was too tight around his shoulders. Aramis looked at it for a moment before rubbing at his chin in thought.
"What is that awful looking coat?" Jordan looked at him, gaping like a fish then his face turned to an insulted look. He spun on his heel and refused to look at him the rest of the way.
"Boy! Will you slow down?! You have no idea where we're going in the first place!" He froze and waited for Aramis to catch up then simply followed him to a church.
Chris glanced around, watching the madness and taking in the noise of a bar at its busiest hour. Porthos gulped down another tankard of wine and looked at him, noticing his untouched drink. He clapped him on the back, sending him slamming into the bar.
"Come on lad! Drink up!" Chris shrugged and snatched and chugged it down. He gave a loud happy cry, waving his arm for the barkeep to bring another one. Porthos gave a victorious smile and chuckled as his plan started to come together. Chris grabbed the flagon as soon as it was set down before him and gulped it down again. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and turned to Porthos.
"You said you had questions to ask me. So, shoot!" Porthos nodded and waited a moment as Chris took in more wine.
"So lad, how'd you and your friends get here to Paris?" Chris paused and sipped at his next drink before answering.
"Well, Brenna's stupid friend touched this sword in a museum that they FORCED us to visit." Porthos blinked at him, confused for a moment before gesturing for him to continue.
"Then we ended up here after seeing a whole lot of light. I don't know what that girl did but we got stuck here." Then he swallowed the rest of his wine and set down the flagon, taking a short break. Porthos nodded, knowing that now was the time to ask the biggest questions.
"Why don't you tell me a bit about where you're from...?" He said slyly, ordering the barkeep to refill Chris's flagon.
Well Chris really messed that one up...
He's your friend. You get to deal with him.
Ya but I'll do it later. Right now, I'm too tired. Dodging questions isn't easy you know!
What are you talking about?! It is SO easy!
For you maybe… Anyway, send us a review.
And then maybe I'll get my lazy butt in gear and write the next chapter faster!