Porthos gives in, sprawling and going limp on the chaise as he stares up at Aramis fondly, thinking of all the nights he'd laid there and looked into the bedroom with longing and lust, touching himself quietly before abandoning it for fear that Aramis would see through him. "Well, you'll have to write that down as a suggestion," he replies. "God, you're beautiful," he praises.

"Are you really going to try and be on Space Hospital?"