Last chapter, thank you all who have waited patiently, read, and reviewed this story, and who knows, Mademoiselle D'Artagnan may come back.

Mademoiselle D'Artagnan of the Musketeers

Eyes trail down and lock onto them, they are round and a good size, prefect for holding and squeezing. His hand twitched.

"Stop staring"

Aramis looks up from the breasts, and to D'Artagnan's face, he lingered before his eyes are trailing back down.

"Aramis!"

"I have a sudden urge to defend your virtue and honor"

"Porthos!"

"Will someone please explain why we have a Duke tied up" Athos spoke up, "and why D'Artagnan is dressed as a woman?"

"Well, those all excellent questions" Alban answered, "I suppose when can start with the Duke is not really a Duke, and I suppose the reason why D'Artagnan is in a dress is because he just looks lovely in it"

Athos looked at D'Artagnan who blinked at him, the Musketeer then cleared his throat and looked away, cheeks red.

"I suppose he does" Athos mumbled.

"Athos!"

"Perhaps we should get back to the issue at hand" said Basile from where he still had the Duke at gun point. "Gentlemen met Monsieur Alexandre, a hired assassin, Monsieur Alexandre, the King's Musketeers"

The assassin glared at the man.

"Now, now" Basile tsked, "what did I say about rudeness earlier?"

Alexandre glanced at the musket, before turning to the Musketeers, "Hello" he mumbled.

"I suppose that will do" Basile then turned his attention to the Musketeers, Aramis, had finally gotten over his shock, noticed the forming bruise on D'Artagnan's cheek; and was now fussing over him. "Alexandre here was hired by a real Duke, to make an attempted assassination" he told Athos.

"Attempted?"

Basile nodded, "Make it look like it was done by the order of the King or Cardinal, I'm not quite sure of which, but the end results would have been that it was given someone of high power a good enough reason to break a treaty with France"

"Without worrying about the consequences" Athos concluded.

"Yes, and perhaps siding with Spain, though you didn't hear the last part from me"

"Ow! Aramis"

"Sorry"

"And you have proof of this?" asked Porthos.

"Well considering we were supposed to do away with him without anyone the wiser, no we don't" Alban shrugged, "though I'm sure if you check his pockets, you'll find something or if you search his little hideout, yep we know about that" he then added when Alexandre's eyes widened.

"And how exactly were you going to do away with him?" asked Aramis.

D'Artagnan had finally gotten away from the man and was currently taking off his shoes, they were starting to hurt. Aramis on the other hand, was now checking on the assassin's injured leg. They were lucky the man didn't pass out from the blood loss.

"Ah, that"

All three Musketeers raised a brow at the mischievous grins Alban and Basile give them, their curiosity growing when D'Artagnan snickered.

"How did you get him to agree to help?" D'Artagnan asked.

"Money, and geese, a lot of geese"

"Why—"

"As interesting as this conversation is," Athos interrupted, "perhaps we should get back on topic, and Porthos, go get Treville"

Porthos nodded, and left.

"You've been quiet Monsieur Alexandre" Basile then said, looking down at the man he still had at gun point, "nothing to say, perhaps in your defense?"

"No, you summarized it perfectly"

All of them looked at him in surprise.

"…..Really?" Alban then said after a moment of surprise, "just like that? No denial, pleas or offers?"

Perhaps the blood loss was finally getting to the man.

Before Alexandre could answer, the door opened and Treville walked in, with Porthos trailing behind him. Athos had a feeling that Treville had been looking for them, it was the only way for Porthos to find and bring their Captain here so quickly.

"What's going o—why is D'Artagnan in a dress? And why is Aramis staring at his….breasts?"

"Aramis, I told you to stop staring!" D'Artagnan huffed.

"I can't help it!" Aramis whined, "they look so real…can I touch them?"

"No!"

"Can I touch them?" asked Porthos from behind the Captain

"No, and no you can't touch them either Athos, now can we get back to the task at hand please?"

Athos closed his mouth with a snap, and with one last lingering look at the bosoms that was now hidden underneath crossed arms, everyone turned back to the man in the chair. Aleixandre looked at the Musketeers and their Captain, then at the man holding the gun, the man's partner before finally landing on the disguised man.

"Can I touch them?"

"No!" came his answer from all around, excluding D'Artagnan who just groaned.

It was a long night.

~.~

"…..I want to shot them"

"I don't think he'll approve"

"I'll buy him wine to make up for it"

"That only works for you"

"I have mixed feelings about this"

The three looked back at the bed, it wasn't big but somehow the three sleeping on it were able to fit in it. They were still wearing their clothing from last night, D'Artagnan was curled up in the middle, mask and shoes gone. On his left was one man, he was curled up and pressed close to D'Artagnan's back, the younger's dress had been pushed up; and the man's hand had placed itself on D'Artagnan's exposed leg. The man on D'Artagnan's left had buried his face in their young friend's fake bosoms with a leg wedged between the Musketeer's.

All in all it looked very compromising.

Athos's fingers twitched for his gun….or sword, he wasn't feeling particularly picky.

"I think we should wake them" Aramis said after more staring.

Porthos nodded and moved closer to the bed, the moment he accidently brushed against the man whose face is buried in D'Artagnan's chest, in an effort to wake their youngest; he found himself staring down the barrel of a musket.

"Oh" yawned the man holding said gun, "it's you, sorry about that"

The musket is shoved back underneath the pillow, and the man's face is back in D'Artagnan's bosom, luckily for him, the sudden movement woke D'Artagnan. The young Musketeer yawned as he sat up, dislodging his bedmates who merely grumbled and rolled over, he blinked sleepily at his fellow Musketeers who stare back waiting for some kind of explanation. D'Artagnan merely grunted at them before climbing over one of his bedmates and out of bed.

Yawning again, D'Artagnan starts to undress,

As one, the three Musketeers turned around, cheeks, for some reason; red.

"…Why are we looking away?" Porthos whispered to his two friends after a moment.

"…..Erm…."

~.~

"So who was that gentleman from last night?" Aramis asked.

After Alban and Blaise were woken up by D'Artagnan, the men and Musketeers crowded into the kitchen for a late breakfast, which was rich food that Alban and Blaise had brought up from the who knew where and refused to tell D'Artagnan where they got it from; though the younger seemed to have an idea judging from the gleam in his eyes.

"A friend" Blaise answered.

After interrogating the captured assassin for an hour and deciding that they learned all they could get, Blaise had then dragged man and chair toward the large double doors that lead to a balcony, and tossed the man over the rail before Treville and the three Musketeers could do or say anything. Surprised and slightly horrified, Treville and the other Musketeers had hurried over and looked over the rail.

Instead of finding a dead body, they find the now cursing assassin being pulled out of bushes by a cloaked man, who upon seeing the Captain and other Musketeers tipped his hat before lifting and tossing the assassin into the waiting carriage with surprising strength.

Dumbfounded, Treville and the three Musketeers watched as the man climbed into the driver's seat and with a flick of the reins, drove off. When they finally turned around, D'Artagnan and the other men were gone, leaving nothing behind but a note with an address and a time.

"Sorry about that," Alban apologized around a mouthful of food, "but we had specific instructions on what to do with the assassin once he captured him. We couldn't let you have him"

"And who gave you those instructions?" Athos asked him from the where he was leaning against the wall, eyes locked onto how close the two men were sitting next to D'Artagnan at the table. He didn't like it.

"Revealing our client's name would make for poor business" Alban grinned; it was full of teeth and very much a warning.

"Alban" D'Artagnan said, eyes narrowed.

"My apologizes darling"

"Darling?" inquired Aramis as he and his friends looked at their youngest.

Surprisingly D'Artagnan didn't blush or even look embarrassed, instead he merely rolled his eyes and went back to his meal. Blaise suddenly leaned over and whispered something in the young man's ear that had D'Artagnan giggling!

"I suddenly have the urge to defend your honor and virtue again" Porthos said after a moment.

"My honor and virtue are fine" D'Artagnan huffed, "they do not need you defending them, or you, Alban"

Alban, who was had opened his mouth, closed it. Basile chuckled and popped a grape in his mouth, he wondered how long the three Musketeers could handle Alban's flirting before swords were drawn. Judging from the way Aramis's fingers twitched when Alban fed D'Artagnan a piece of cheese by hand, it wasn't going to be long.

"Darling, is a pet name Alban gave D'Artagnan after our first misadventure"

"Misadventure?" Aramis's eyes lit up at the words, and D'Artagnan groaned when both Porthos and Athos looked very much interested. Five minutes later, Aramis and Porthos were roaring with laughter, Athos had his head down; shoulders shaking suspiciously, and D'Artagnan was reconsidering his choice of friends.

"I disown all of you" he said from the depths of his folded arms, he had buried his face in them earlier when Alban had gotten to the old farmer and cow part.

"Don't be like that darling" Aramis coo'ed.

D'Artagnan lifted his head and glared at the Musketeer, the look promise revenge, Aramis thought he looked like a very grumpy kitten.

~.~

After food was consumed, D'Artagnan particularly shoved Athos, Porthos, and Aramis out the door when the three had learned that their youngest member was not leaving with them.

"I will see you at the Garrison" D'Artagnan said before closing the door in their faces.

The three stared at the closed door, Aramis wondered how mad D'Artagnan would be if he shot at the lock, then decided he could live with the anger when he heard his younger friend's giggles from the other side of the door.

"Let us go" Athos finally said, "Treville is waiting for us"

The Captain had made it clear before they left for the address that was on the note, that he wanted details upon their return.

"But—" Porthos started to protest.

"He said he'll see us at the Garrison, so we will see him at the Garrison"

Obviously not happy about the situation himself, Athos turned around and started making his way back, Aramis and Porthos behind him.

D'Artagnan returned to the Garrison in the evening, the three of them; after telling Treville what they have learned, had planted themselves at their usual table by the stairs and waited. Upon seeing them he smiled and waved before quickly making his way up to Treville's office. All three are very tempted to follow and press their ears against the closed door, but Treville had threaten to transfer them over to the Red Guards if he caught them doing so again, none of the men were sure he could but rather not risk it.

An hour later, D'Artagnan came back down, and settled between Aramis and Athos. The Gascon smiled under their gaze, smiling growing when Athos's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"So" Aramis began breaking the silence.

"So?" said D'Artagnan

Aramis's eyes suddenly turned mischievous, "Well we be seeing mademoiselle Charlotte again?"

D'Artagnan doesn't even hesitate or even blush, instead his eyes turned sultry as he leaned close to the man.

"That depends monsieur" he purred in his "other" voice.

That voice wasdoing things to the three Musketeers.

"O-On w-what?" Aramis stuttered, eyes a little wide.

Athos and Porthos watched as D'Artagnan leaned even closer, and whispered in Aramis's ear. Whatever was said had Aramis squeaking and blushing a very dark red, and no matter how much they ask, the man refused to tell him what their youngest member had said.

D'Artagnan, for his part, just leaned back and howled with laughter.

Later, when Athos, Porthos, and Aramis return to their homes respectively, they will find a note waiting for them, and inside that note are these words.

Take care of our darling mademoiselle.

-End-