Porthos barks out a laugh that has his eyes open, grinning right back down at Aramis. "Uncle Athos," he says, as if he's sharing a private joke of wonder with Aramis. "Someone's going to have to teach her swords and seeing as you've got shooting, I've got wrestling, we might as well press him into service somehow." He rubs his hand slowly up and down Aramis' back.

"What'd you do?" he wonders. "As a kid, to drive your parents batty?"