An artist would have viewed the white exterior of the refrigerator as a blank canvas, a thing devoid of color aside from the scrapes and scuff marks running across the lower portion of the door. Dust gathered on top of the white beast just as dirt, dust, an odd leaf or two, and that one picture of her cluttered that dark cavern underneath.

The interior was in a similar state. The bulb that once illuminated the dim corners, racks, and drawers blew sometime back leaving the refrigerator's contents in something of a black hole regardless of whether or not the door was open.

The fruit drawer remained closed at all times. At one time it contained strawberries and grapes, but they had long since decomposed into a rotten pile of mush. If Athos opened and closed the refrigerator fast enough, he could avoid the smell, but he avoided the icebox as much as possible, finding it easier to evade the stench of the refuse by steering clear of the entire fridge.

As a result he didn't keep much in there. There was a block of cheese nearing it's best by date and some take-out going the way of the fruit. The milk, on the other hand, was supremely fresh. It goes in coffee, tea, and the cereal he nibbled at late in the evening. There was a perpetually near empty bottle of ketchup which he abused in the name of masking flavor. Beyond that, the icebox was almost as empty on the inside as it was on the outside.

But that was then. What was once a blank canvas is now littered with pictures of Aramis, Porthos, and himself. His favorite is from their first game of paintball: Athos is covered in paint; Aramis is scowling for having been bested despite his superior skill with a firearm; Porthos is beaming like an idiot because over the course of the day he'd only been hit once. A few 'artistic masterpieces' graciously donated by Aramis' nieces are proudly displayed alongside the many photos, and all are held in place by a plethora of magnets collected from the trio's adventures throughout the world.

The dust has long since been cleared away; the dirt and leaves have also been swept away. The photo of her remains.

Porthos replaced the interior bulb, and Aramis disposed of every out-of-date item he could get his hands on. After a great deal of gagging and running outside to take in lungfuls of fresh air, the rotten soup of long-abandoned fruit was dealt with.

In time the once practically empty refrigerator became overcrowded. Fresh fruit and vegetables filled the produce drawers until they had a hard time closing. A variety of cheese and meat, the ever-present milk, salad dressings, mayonnaise, mustards, and more cooking sauces than Athos had any idea what to do with filled a great deal of the shelves. What space was left was occupied with juice, soda-pop, beer, and chocolate milk (a beverage Porthos could never get enough of).

On those occasions when Athos did order out, fitting left-overs into the refrigerator was what could only be described as an adult version of tetris, but Athos didn't mind. He didn't mind at all.