Author's note: I'm back. Again. This links with my previous story (vaguely ) but there is no reasonit shouldn't work as a stand alone story. This first chapter is basically set up and can be skipped if you desperately want to.

As someone pointed out on my previous fic, these are also available on AO3 but I decided to post them here too. Thoughts much appreciated.

Captain Treville shook his head wearily as he set the pages of Athos' report aside, fixing the younger of the two men in front of him with a stern glare.

"Do you have anything to add to this account?"

"No, Sir." Aramis stared at his feet, brow creased in a frown.

"You have no...excuse to offer as to why you chose to open fire on what had, until you came along, been the peaceful exchange of hostages?"

"No, Sir."

"And you?" Treville asked, turning with a sigh to Athos, "Haven't you anything to add? Something perhaps that you felt it better not to have included in your report."

Athos pursed his lips at the insinuation, justified as it was. He glanced briefly at his shamefaced companion before replying.

"Only that Aramis would not have shot if he had not felt both the girl and d'Artagnan to be in immediate danger."

"Madame de Foix has remained entirely unharmed by her captors this past week; it was only by your doing that she came to any harm at all. As for d'Artagnan, I think by now we can trust he is able to hold his own until assistance arrives."

A chorus of 'Yes, Sir's followed.

"Was there any reason to suspect her captors would attempt to harm her – at the moment they had agreed to exchange her for the boy?" This again directed at Athos.

"They certainly did seem particularly well-armed for a peaceful exchange."

"But?"

"But, had I seen reason to suspect them, I would have acted."

"And as it was," Treville concluded, addressing him still, though he turned his pointed glare to Aramis, "You did not."

"No, Sir."

"You were ordered not to shoot until the lady was safely out of the line of fire? Unless explicitly given a signal to do so sooner?" Treville now asked of Aramis.

"It was...suggested," Aramis hedged delicately, not raising his gaze.

"Suggested. By. Whom?"

"By..." Finally, Aramis was forced to raise his gaze, and nodded reluctantly towards Athos.

"By me."

Treville nodded, a twisted smile briefly crossing his face. "You were ordered."

A pause, then:

"Yes, Sir."

"An order you chose to ignore."

"I … Yes, Sir."

Treville stood, turning his back on the two of them and moving to stare out of the open window into the yard below. Madam de Foix – a young lady of the court, and dear friend to the queen – had long since departed, citing exhaustion after the week's events as her reason. A young girl of barely seventeen, her husband had been slain in battle only six months into their marriage and she had been travelling home to her father's estate when the hijack had occurred. Having received word of her kidnap and the subsequent ransom demand, Queen Anne had immediately enlisted Treville and his men to get her back. The queen, with the support of her husband the king, had insisted that only Treville's best would do and so it had not been long before a plan had been formed amongst them. Namely, to exchange d'Artagnan – though for the purposes of the plan, he was in fact to be Monsieur Gerard de Foix, brother and unimaginably wealthy heir to the lady's late husband – for the young lady, and, having gotten her out of harm's way, to perform a daring and impressive rescue/escape before having all those responsible arrested. That her captors were amenable to the exchange was fortunate, that the men had not harmed her whilst she was in their clutches was even more so; the fact that despite Aramis' interference she was now safely at home with her real brother-in-law, and with her own brother on his way to escort her back to their own estate was nothing short of incredible.

Glancing down, Treville saw Porthos and d'Artagnan who sat directly beneath his window, gentle conversation drifting upwards from where they sat, no doubt having hoped they might catch wind of how discussions were going. D'Artagnan was mostly unharmed, having received nothing worse than he might in the training yard despite being unarmed for the purposes of the exchange and that too was no small feat. Still, as he leaned forwards to snag a bottle from Porthos' clutches, a cut on the young man's side seemed to catch him and he paled, fingers going slack around the bottle neck. Odd as it may have seemed had Treville tried to explain, Porthos' quiet 'You all right?' and hand placed understandingly on the Gascon's arm suddenly seemed to soothe their captain's ire. They had each formed a fierce bond with the young Gascon, Treville was not blind to that, and seeing an armed might-be-assailant approach their unarmed 'little brother' would of course have spurred any of them into action – he would do no less for any of his men. Chancing a glance back at the two men silently awaiting his judgement – for no doubt Athos was as anxious as his fellow – Treville felt his ill will waning a little more. Aramis would hold himself personally responsible for every scratch d'Artagnan had received that day, and for every night the young lady awoke in fear with gunshots ringing in her ears, and, though Treville was perfectly within his rights to see the man punished, it would do little good when the man was so adept at torturing himself in his mind anyway.

"If either of them had been harmed," he began, turning fully to face Aramis once more, "I would have had you stripped of your uniform and back in your previous regiment before nightfall."

Aramis' frown deepened, his breath trembling slightly as he nodded wordlessly. Athos did not move from his place at Aramis' side, though his jaw clenched so tightly Treville wondered if it pained him.

"As it is..." - Aramis' head shot up - "The young lady is home safe and sound, and I see no need to pursue official action – no doubt Madame and the Queen herself would protest your innocence. With that in mind, I suggest you tend to the weapons in the armoury tomorrow before you commence duties."

"Yes, Sir," Aramis replied with an ill-concealed wince.

"I will add that should you see fit to disregard my 'suggestion', you will not find me so lenient."

Aramis nodded.

"Good. Dismissed." Both men turned to leave. "Athos – a moment please."

Aramis paused at the door, eyes suddenly worried once more and searching his captain's face.

"Captain?" Athos wandered back to his place before the desk, clearly sharing his friend's uncertainty.

"Aramis, close the door as you leave."

Aramis stood his ground even after Treville's not-so-subtle reminder that he was dismissed, instead turning to Athos as if seeking further instruction.

"Go on," Athos said calmly, one hand clapped to his friend's elbow, "I'll catch up or else meet you at my rooms."

A flicker of sheer relief crossing his face, Aramis left, and Treville waited until he heard d'Artagnan's urgent questioning, which indicated Aramis had indeed left, that he spoke again.

"This cannot happen again," Treville stated without preamble, "I looked to you as my second; I know he is your friend, Athos, but if you cannot control your men then –"

"If I may, Captain, I cannot agree that this was a matter of 'control' and I think it -" Athos broke off, his jaw clenching as he swallowed back his words.

"Please continue," Treville prompted, sitting back in his chair and raising one brow in invitation. Athos was not a man given to backtalk – unlike his friends who seemed to permanently teeter on the brink of insubordination – and Treville was ever curious as to the sharp words silenced by Athos' courtly upbringing. One could never be sure what to expect from him when Athos was given the opportunity to give voice to his objections so freely. "You disagree, and think it what?"

"I think it an insult that you would imply that I allow my judgement to be compromised by my personal regard for Aramis – or any of others for that matter."

"Indeed?"

Treville could not help but give voice to his scepticism. The very fact that these well-named 'inseparables' were so driven by their regard for one another was the very reason they worked so well together. And it had to be said, his own begrudging fondness for the three – now four – of them was often in danger of colouring his own judgement of their actions: where another superior would likely feel vindictive fury to hear of the day's events, Treville found his fury tempered somewhat by paternal concern that there may be discord enough between them to inspire such insubordination. Of course, he would feel very different had the mission itself been compromised by it.

"Aramis has served longer than any of you," Treville said carefully, "And yet it is hardly a secret that the entire garrison – indeed half of Paris – expects you to take my place as captain one day. Are you so certain that he is as content with that as he says?"

He watched as comprehension dawned upon Athos' face and could not help but feel a twinge of guilt at the sudden uncertainty in his lieutenant's eyes before it was masked.

"I think..." Athos paused, wet his lips before continuing, his voice careful but steeled, "I think it rather belittling to discuss this behind his back, Sir. But I believe nothing could be further from his mind; he seeks always only recognition, not promotion."

Treville held his gaze for one long moment, his pride stinging a little from the obvious reprimand: 'behind his back' as if he were proposing idle gossip. Still, he had invited Athos speak freely and clearly that was what he had done. It had only reaffirmed what Treville wanted to believe. Finally, he sighed and shook his head slightly.

"Very well. You may inform him that his actions have indeed been...recognised," he levelled an unimpressed glare at the younger man whose mouth thinned almost imperceptibly, "I can trust this will not happen again?"

Athos nodded.

"Very well," Treville repeated, an air of finality to his voice. "Deal with it as you see fit, and see to it that my suggestion is given due consideration. Dismissed."

From his window, Treville watched as Athos emerged into the courtyard and exchanged a few words with d'Artagnan, who had remained waiting for him. The boy looked concerned, then a little confused, then suddenly concerned to the point of distress. A few more words from Athos, and a placating hand upon his shoulder and he nodded shortly, grim but accepting. They parted ways at the gate and Treville smiled a little, amused and a little awed by how readily the three inseparables had taken d'Artagnan as a fourth into their midst when all previous attempts from others had been met with anything ranging from civil refusal to outright hostility. Knowing Aramis as he did, Treville was therefore unsurprised by his readiness to disobey orders and put his own life in danger in order to – as he had presumably felt – keep their 'whelp' safe. It was, he reflected, no less than he would likely do for any of his men if it came down to it.