CHAPTER THREE

"A clinic!" Athos snarled, two weeks later. They now stood in their Captain's office, standing before his desk, Athos leaning on a cane. They both looked like they needed to sit down, but Treville had a point to make.

"Yes, you both inhaled smoke amongst your other injuries. I want you to spend three weeks in the clinic in Switzerland. All that is required of you is that you undertake tests on your lung capacity and take any instructions you are given to repair any damage. The hospital said they were amazed you escaped so lightly but it will take time to recover."

"A clinic in Switzerland," Athos repeated, ignoring Treville's reassurances. "You mean a Sanatorium."

"There are no such establishments left," Treville explained, patiently. "I am sorry to disappoint you both, I know you want to return to full duty. I want that too, but you are not fit enough. And it's not fair on Porthos," he added.

"Well, that's below the belt," Aramis said.

"It's true though," Treville persisted. "A team of three where two are not physically fit is a recipe for disaster in the field."

Both men were quiet and Treville took it as an invitation to press his case onward.

"You both had concussion and other injuries. Aramis had two cracked ribs," Treville said, turning to Athos. "And Athos is lucky it was his knee and not his hip that was dislocated," he added, looking at Aramis.

"You are both out of breath now," he pointed out for full measure. "So, the case is closed, Gentlemen."

"We've just walked up two flights of stairs!" Aramis protested. "In our defence," he added, at Treville's cool grey glare.

"You don't have to defend yourselves," Treville said, fiercely. "This is not up for negotiation. I want a top team and that means top fitness. You didn't walk away from your mission, you were conveyed by ambulance. The sooner you both accept that, the better. You leave for the airport tomorrow. You will fly by private plane to Lausanne and then a driver will take you toward Geneva and on to your destination, with the Vuache Hills to the west and the Jura mountains to the north west. I am told it is very beautiful."

"So, we're fit enough to fly?" Aramis pushed, hands on his hips.

Treville slowly rose from his chair and stepped forward until he was practically nose to nose with Aramis. "A driver will meet you at the airport in Lausanne and convey you to your residence," he ground out.

"The Sanatorium," Athos muttered.

"It's here," Treville said, pulling up a map on his phone. Aramis and Athos both leaned closer.

"All this must be costing a lot," Aramis added, as he straightened up.

"Give me strength!" Treville roared, slamming his fist on his desk. "It is costing a lot! So you had better make it worth my while. It's my signature on your clearance papers and, believe me, I will not sign them if you don't get a clean bill of health from The Kramer Institute."

"Institute," Athos sighed. "It gets better."

Treville set his jaw, turning his back and returning to his seat.

"You will both undergo tests and subsequent treatment and return to us in a better condition than you find yourselves in now. It is run by a well respected doctor called Henriq Kramer, whose father ran it before him. It is an established and respected operation. It has all the facilities you need and it is fairly isolated with minimum access, so no distractions, Gentlemen. And clean air."

"What is Dr Kramer's role in this … facility?" Athos murmured, staring Treville down.

Treville held his gaze.

"He's a psychiatrist," he stated.

Athos rolled his eyes and looked as if he was about to resign. Aramis whistled silently and folded his arms, not risking a look at Athos.

"A driver will pick you up at 7.00 a.m. tomorrow," Treville continued, trying to hold on to his patience. "I suggest you decide which accommodation you are going to share this evening, as I am not going to waste the Department's money touring the city to pick each of you up."

Aramis opened his mouth to speak, but clamped it shut again. He and Athos had been skirting around each other since they were discharged from the hospital. Spending a whole evening and night together may just be the final straw. "You can come to mine, Athos," he finally said, gruffly.

Athos huffed. "My place is bigger," he added, obviously having the same thoughts as Aramis. More space to avoid each other.

"You mean, we won't have to see each other," Aramis, unable to argue with the truth of that, rose to the challenge.

"Precisely," Athos replied, quietly, his temper simmering just below the surface.

"Sort it out, Gentlemen," Treville said, "I will see you in three weeks and we will not be in contact during that time," he added, through gritted teeth.

"Not an upmarket spa then?" Aramis said, lightly, always one for pushing his luck and having the last word.

"No, Aramis, it is definitely not and upmarket spa," Treville ground out. He swung his chair around to face his computer, their meeting over.

"Shall we ...?" Aramis gesturing toward his desk. He could see several files that he had been working on before the incident. His fingers were itching to boot up his computer.

Athos remained rooted to the spot, staring at his feet, tapping at an invisible spot on the floor with his cane.

"No, Aramis," Treville replied, curtly, not turning around. "Go. Pack. Have an early night. Set your alarm."

"If you are sure we can't just…" Athos said, catching sight of Porthos through Treville's office window. He was grinning.

"No, Athos. Thank you. Leave now," Treville ground out. "The sooner you go, the sooner you will be back at your desk."

"What does that even mean?" Athos muttered. He was met with a deadly silence from Treville, but he could hear Porthos laughing in the next room.

Giving up, they trudged out of Treville's office. Athos pointedly left his walking cane leaning against his desk, the symbolism of which was not lost on Treville. Treville sighed and slumped back in his chair, rubbing his forehead to try and forestall the headache that was threatening.

He had almost lost them, but by God, he was looking forward to a three week break, and from the way Porthos was holding the outer office door open for them, he was probably feeling the same.

/

Thanks for reading!

(Well, that went well, didn't it, lol)