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Trapped
A musketeer story by Deana
Modern AU taking place after 'Backfired' and 'Internal War'.
My Fete des Mousquetaires entry for August!

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"Achoo!"

"God bless you."

"Thanks. ACHOOOOO!"

"God bless you."

"Thanks." *sniiiiiif*

"Are we there yet? I'm sick of hearing that guy sneeze!"

"Shut your mouth or I'll shut it permanently!"

"Now, now, Porthos," said Aramis. "I'm sure you're all sick of hearing me sneeze; even the big-mouth criminal back there."

"Whether we all are or not," said Porthos. "That jerk has no right to talk, and once he's in jail, he'll have even less right."

Athos sighed as he drove. Between Aramis' sneezing and the whining from the prisoner they were transporting, he was eager to arrive at their destination. They were just crossing the border from Connecticut into Rhode Island, and he glanced at the GPS to see how much longer the trip would be: fifty minutes, not too bad.

Aramis tried to suppress his sneezes after that. He'd woken with a cold the previous day, and though he kept insisting that he felt all right, the sneezing was increasing more and more as time passed.

Eventually, they approached the Jamestown Bridge and Aramis stared out the front passenger window at the boats in the ocean. If he thought the sight was beautiful, it was surpassed when they drove over the Newport Bridge shortly after. The sun sparkled on the water and the boats and mansions in the distance painted an amazing picture.

Finally, Athos pulled the NYPD's prisoner transport van into the Newport Police Dept and they dropped off the whiner. As they turned to go, Aramis sneezed…right next to the man's ear.

Porthos laughed loudly as they walked out the door. "You did that on purpose!"

Aramis blew his nose. "Of course I did."

Athos shook his head, amused.

After having lunch at Nicholas Pizza—which they all agreed was delicious—they drove to Easton's Beach and stood watching the ocean.

The waves were rough and it was very windy. Seagulls flying overhead kept getting caught in the breeze, suspending in mid-air and drifting backwards slightly before flying harder against the wind to get to where they wanted to go.

"That hurricane is pretty close," Porthos remarked.

Aramis nodded. "Yes, but they're notorious for turning almost at the last minute before striking southern New England. The last official hurricane that made landfall here was Bob in August of 1991."

Athos and Porthos looked at him.

Aramis blinked. "What? You know that meteorology always fascinated me."

"Yeah but to have dates and names of hurricanes that hit a state you don't even live in?" said Porthos.

Aramis shrugged. "I watched The Weather Channel for hours every day growing up. ACHOO!"

Athos looked at him. "How do you feel? Do you want to go to the hotel to rest?"

Aramis wiped his nose. "I'm fine."

Porthos snorted. "Those words will be on his gravestone seventy years from now!"

Aramis looked at him. "I'm gonna live to be a hundred and three? And you know that how?"

Porthos threw his arm around his friend's neck. "You'd better make it that far!"

Aramis chuckled.

Eventually, they left to see the famous mansions on Bellevue Ave. Each of them were amazed at the stunning beauty of the centuries-old houses, some of which were valued at hundreds of millions of dollars.

"Too bad d'Artagnan wasn't here to see all this," Porthos remarked.

"He couldn't miss his combat training this week," said Athos.

"We know," said Aramis.

They finally headed to the Newport Harbor Hotel, and once inside his room, Aramis plopped onto the bed.

"Still feeling 'fine'?" Athos asked, sarcastically.

Aramis had a sore throat and his head was aching. "Yup."

Porthos snorted again. He took Aramis' suitcase and headed for the dresser.

"You don't have to do that," Aramis said. "We're leaving tomorrow."

"I know," Porthos said. He put the suitcase on the dresser. "Done! When do you want supper?"

"Is food all you think about?" Aramis mumbled, eyes closed.

"You know it is!"

Aramis chuckled, but it turned into a cough.

"Rest," Athos told him. "We'll order room service when you're ready."

Aramis mumbled an unintelligible reply.

"Text us when you wake up," Porthos said, and they both left.

Aramis woke just over an hour later, and after hearing the unexpected sound of seagulls, he remembered where he was and opened his eyes. He looked towards the balcony doors and watched one land on the rail for a moment before flying away again.

With a yawn that hurt his throat, he reached for his cell phone on the nightstand and texted one word.

Blurb

Porthos: Athos, he's awake! Let's eat!

Athos: We'll be right there, Aramis.

Aramis put the phone down and closed his eyes again, reopening them when his door opened to admit his two friends.

"What you wanna eat?" was the first question.

"Steak," Aramis immediately answered.

Porthos was slightly surprised at his answer. "I expected you to say 'chicken soup' because of your cold. I didn't think you'd have that much of an appetite."

Aramis smiled from where he still lay on the bed. "I told you that I'm fine. Besides, the 'soup of the day' is clam chowder, and you know that I can't stand seafood." He sat up and took a menu out of his pocket. "Found this downstairs and read it in the elevator."

Porthos grabbed it to read.

Aramis stood up. "We might as well go to the dining room and treat this like a one-night vacation."

"Are you sure?" said Athos.

"ACHOO! Yup," Aramis replied.

Athos rolled his eyes and they left the room.

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Dinner was a pleasant affair, and they went outside afterwards to watch the sunset over the ocean, behind the Newport Bridge. It was a stunning sight, with the choppy waves and the orange and pink hues in the sky.

"What a postcard that would make," said Aramis, aiming his phone to take a picture. He texted it to d'Artagnan and Treville, with 'Wish you were here'.

Porthos looked over his shoulder and laughed.

Just after the sun disappeared below the horizon, Aramis sneezed, shattering the peace.

"Sounds like it's someone's bedtime," said Porthos.

"I'm—"

"Fine; yes yes, we know," said Athos. He shot up an arm and placed his hand on Aramis' forehead.

Aramis backed up. "What are you doing?"

"Your face looks flushed," Athos told him.

"Of course it does; it's very windy, in case you haven't noticed," said Aramis.

Porthos grabbed Aramis' arms from behind, preventing him from moving as Athos again raised his hand.

Aramis squirmed.

"You're like a child," Athos scolded, feeling his forehead again. "Slightly warm."

"Of course I am, it's summer," Aramis argued.

Porthos sighed and shook his head. "You're so stubborn!"

"Well I want to be stubborn out here," Aramis answered. "Look around us; how can anyone want to go inside?"

Porthos made a show of looking around at the ocean, the bridge, the boats…"You have a point."

Athos rolled his eyes.

Aramis finally conceded to go inside once darkness started to fall, and they all headed into his hotel room.

Porthos turned on the TV, but Aramis kept falling asleep. He didn't remember what they were watching, and he didn't remember when his two friends left, all he knew was that his phone's alarm was suddenly ringing for him to get up.

Aramis was startled from the sound, but sneezed before he even had a chance to take a breath. It made him cough and he sat on the side of the bed blearily as he tried to figure out where he was.

A gust of wind blew through the room, and Aramis remembered that he was in a Rhode Island hotel. The wind made him shiver, and he realized that he didn't need to get up for work after all. He did need to take his thyroid pill, so he stood up to get the bottle out of his suitcase. He coughed and sneezed his way over to it before downing the pill with some water and shuffling over to the balcony doors. The sun had risen but the sky was grey with thick clouds, and another strong gust of wind made him shiver again.

Turning away from the balcony, Aramis went back to bed and was asleep again within minutes.

TBC