milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Ryan is sitting at the bar.

He didn't sleep very well.

Right now he's smoking his ~~second~~ third cigarette, drinking coffee and thinking.

Bother him if you want but be warned - he's not in the best mood.

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"Musketeers? As in the three, sometimes four, Musketeers of legend?"

Rochefort frowns. "Legend? What legend? They're nothing but a thorn in my side. But yes, there are three of them, and they seem to have taken on some stupid young Gascon as a protege."

"Well, by my time it's legend. Who is their protege?"

Rochefort's lips twist distastefully. "None of them are worthy of legend. Porthos is a fool, Aramis cannot fight, Athos is a drunkard, all of them are arrogant bastards, and their protege is an idiot child. He goes by the name of D'Artagnan. I cannot believe that he lives long enough to be a legend in your time; he is almost suicidally reckless and no brighter than a burnt-out candle."

The names are familiar but Ryan can't recall much more than that.

"I think I know a few people like D'Artagnan myself. Although their brighter than a burnt-out candle. Usually."

Rochefort snorts. "And do they work for your Counter-Terrorist Unit too, or have your superiors been wise enough to bar them from serving there?"

Ryan grimaced.

"Actually I am - or was - their superior and I let them stay on the job. They're very good at their jobs even if they are complete mavericks."

"You let them stay?" Rochefort arches an eyebrow. "You must be a very merciful man. I would simply have had them killed."

"Well, having people killed isn't that easy during my time. Unless you're best friends with the president."

Ryan finishes the last of his drink.

"Excuse me, I have to go. It was a pleasure meeting you."

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