She just won't give up, Aramis grumbled to himself, watching the elegantly-dressed noblewoman moving rapidly away, even the way she walked indicating how angry she was.

After a few moments, Aramis slowly turned around to head to rejoin his brothers and head back to the garrison and the refectory, a rumbling stomach indicating that it was time for the midday meal.

But as he turned, he saw Athos and Porthos leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the street obviously having seen some or all of his latest effort to extricate himself from the attractive woman's aggressive attempt to force herself on him.

They both had grins on their faces, and to someone watching, maybe it just looked like a flirtation. But Aramis was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with her presence.

When he joined his brothers, Porthos said, "You finally got one you can't handle?" his voice tinged with barely-suppressed laughter.

Resisting the temptation to roll his eyes, Aramis replied, "Madame le Comtesse is far too used to having her own way in whatever she wants."

Porthos, still enjoying the moment, said, "And she really wants you."

Aramis, mock glaring at him, "She hasn't a chance of achieving he desires this time. I am not interested," his words laced with revulsion as well as determination.

Athos moved to his left side, Porthos to his right, flinging their arms around his shoulders in commiseration.

"Let us go enjoy Serge's midday meal, and maybe it will remove the sour taste from your mouth, brother."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Just when Aramis had decided his day couldn't get worse, a body hurtled itself out of a nearby alley, slamming into the marksman's lower body and knocking him to the ground.

Before the man could get up and continue his assault, though, which, from the expression on his face he had every intention of doing, Athos and Porthos grabbed an arm each, effectively restraining the obviously incensed man.

"Treville told you to stay away from Aramis, Villefort," Athos said to the man.

Villefort responded in a snarl, "Treville no longer has command of me," giving Aramis a nasty look, "thanks to your friend," making the last word sound like an insult.

"The Captain could have had you arrested and thrown in the Chatelet," Athos continued after the interruption.

"He took away my commission," Villefort growled. "I worked hard to earn that."

"You threw it away by pursuing your vendetta," Athos calmly went on. "You nearly killed Aramis with your attacks."

"I resented his defending a mongrel masquerading as a Musketeer," the man throwing a look of disgust at Porthos, who refused to take the bait.

Aramis finally spoke up, his voice hard and angry at the insult thrown at his friend. "Porthos has more honor and skill in his little finger than you have in entirety," he said."

Villefort struggled against the hold on him, saying, "You will end up being very sorry for defending that…that…" leaving no doubt of his contempt.

"Is that a threat you are making?" Athos' tone was now abrupt and challenging.

"No. It is a promise," the man retorted.

A second later, gunfire was heard, and a bullet narrowly missed Aramis. Just for a moment, their grips on Villefort loosened slightly as they rapidly scanned the rooftops opposite them.

That was all Villefort needed to strike out and wrench free. As another bullet threatened the Musketeers, the cover gave Villefort all the opening he needed to rapidly make himself scarce, disappearing down another alleyway.

The Musketeers searched, but he was long gone.

"Let us get back to the garrison, and inform Treville of what just happened," Athos said. "I disagreed with Treville's decision to just dismiss Villefort, but kept my silence. I wanted to be wrong, but unfortunately, that does not seem to be the case."

xxxxxxxxxxx

After talking with Treville, who had grown steadily more upset as they related what had occurred, the three headed for their evening meal. Treville had said it was probably wise not to discuss the situation around the garrison. The Musketeers were liked and respected very much, but there was bound to be

a man here and there who hadn't liked a long-time Musketeer stripped of his commission. Treville hadn't really given much explanation for his actions, not wanting to drag up the prejudice against Porthos that had been the ex-Musketeer's focus.

They were almost to their table when Aramis groaned, "Not again!"

The others glanced in the direction he was looking, and began to grin. The Comtesse was standing inside the gate, intently gazing at him. She was every inch the noblewoman, from the intricately-styled hair under her hat, to the very expensive-looking clothing and shoes she wore.

"It's not funny!" Aramis fumed. "This has been going on for two months. I have told her I am not interested, but she just ignores me. She's brazen. She pushes against me. She whispers how much she loves me. Last week, she tried to kiss me. I walk away, she even followed me a couple of times."

Looking over at her again, he said, "This ends tonight!"

They watched as he determinedly strode over to her.

They could tell the conversation was getting heated by their expressions, and then they heard Aramis say in a near-shout, "No!" which was followed by a resounding slap from the Countess.

He turned and walked away, leaving her standing there.

She called after him in a shrill voice, "How dare you turn your back on me! No one insults me like that!"

She sounded more like a Parisian fishwife than a daughter of a Comte whose family had centuries of history behind him.

Aramis kept walking. She stood fuming for a moment, then walked rapidly away.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Next day, after duty at the palace, they returned at sunset. Aramis inquired, and had been told that no one had coming asking to see him all day.

He breathed long sigh of relief.

The Musketeers had dinner, and spent a quiet evening in conversation at their table before turning in.

Aramis decided to make a detour to the infirmary, and retrieve a salve he had promised he would get for Serge, who had burned himself in the kitchen earlier.

Reaching the infirmary door, he stepped inside.

He got about two steps when a prickly feeling began on the back of his neck. He had learned through the years not to ignore the sensation, and his hand moved to the grip of his pistol as he looked around the dark stable unlit room.

It was the smell of gunpowder that caused him to turn and move through the door in rapid steps.

He barely made it outside when the infirmary blew, throwing him several yards where he lay still.

The cadet at the gates yelled 'attack', as he saw the building begin to burn.

Every Musketeer in the garrison emerged from their rooms, grabbing buckets, filling them and flinging the water at the flames, Treville directing them.

Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan all spied their brother laying motionless on the ground and ran to him.

Porthos turned him over, just as Aramis woke up, looking dazedly around him.

"What happened?" he asked.

"We do not as yet know," Athos responded. ""Let us get you to the infirmary."

Aramis objected, saying, "I'm fine," resisting their attempt to lift him up.

"Do you remember what happened?" Athos asked him.

"I went into the infirmary to get the salve I had promised Serge. I smelled gunpowder right before the infirmary blew, but it threw me forward, and that is as much as I remember."

The others looked at each other. Athos and Porthos remembered Villefort's threat about Aramis. They decided to kept quiet until they had ascertained that Aramis had indeed sustained no injuries. They all knew how he downplayed anything that happened to himself.

Athos told Aramis they were going to walk him to the infirmary, and see for themselves whether he was indeed 'all right'.

Aramis, hearing the firmness of Athos' voice, just heaved a dramatic sigh, and let them lift him to his feet.

An hour later, they all left the infirmary together.

"I told you I was fine," Aramis said.

"We know you, mon ami," Athos said. "We needed to see for ourselves."

They were quiet for a moment, before Porthos spoke up with almost a growl.

"This was too soon after the threat to be a coincidence. We need to find out where Villefort was tonight," the others nodding in agreement.