Robin/Marian (and the possible implication of Allan/Squirrels/unknown whores. Yes! It's the new OT3!)
Much dislikes the fact that the sherwood squirrels are getting more than he is on a regular basis. He makes the mistake of mentioning this fact at lunch with the outlaws. A rather interesting conversation ensues.
This is set during that brief snatch of times in series two in which Marian was with the gang but Allan wasn't. And I have NO idea what posessed me while I was writing this. It might, however, have been Marian's dark side. Enjoy! ^_^
Of Squirrels and Whores
“You know there’s definitely something wrong with a situation when the squirrels are sewing their wild oats more often than you are on a regular basis,” Much folded his arms.
Marian’s eyes widened in mock horror, “Much!”
“Well there is!” Much insisted, petulant and unabashed, “I am sorry, my lady, but there is a line – and that squirrel has had a different lady-squirrel in that tree every day for the past week, I’d swear to it!”
“So kill the squirrel,” Djaq shrugged, “you were getting quite good at cooking them at one point.”
“Don’t think I haven’t tried,” Much stabbed at the rabbit leg he was eating rather more viciously than was necessary, “the horny little bugger just wont die.”
“Can’t you hire a whore?” Marian enquired, tactfully.
Robin began to choke, rather loudly.
“What?” She raised one cool eyebrow at him, “am I not supposed to know words like that?”
“A whore to kill a squirrel?” Much asked.
“I believe she meant to compete with the squirrel,” Djaq elaborated, highly amused.
“Oh,” Much blinked, “well, I could – but we’ve no money.”
“And you don’t want to use whores anyway,” Little John spoke up, “they’ll knock you out and take your money soon as look at you – and those that don’t’ll leave you with a strange looking rash on your…”
Will began to clear his throat, his grin not covering the fact that his cheeks had gone a shade to match his name.
As every eye in the camp turned to Little John, the big man gave a hasty shrug. “I mean – so I’ve been told.”
Marian bit her lip to hide her grin.
“No, no – you can’t use um… whores,” Much shook his head, “it’s – ”
“Unsavoury,” Will filled in, stoutly.
“Quite,” Robin coughed.
Djaq rolled her eyes, “say the virginal outlaws of Sherwood.”
“Besides,” Much waved a hand, “it was always Allan who… knew about such things.”
“Much to his detriment,” Djaq murmured, earning her a curious look from Will. She met it, shrugging, “do you know how many rashes that man managed to get on his – ”
Will’s eyes widened, “you’ve seen his – ”
“I’m the doctor,” Djaq intoned, patiently, “and trust me, it was hardly an alluring sight, what with the boils and – ”
“Oh, God, no – please! – I’m trying to eat!” Much clamped his hands over his ears.
“I am just saying,” Djaq held up a finger, “let Allan-a-Dale’s pustule covered manhood be a lesson to you all.”
Marian was giggling uncontrollably into her plate.
“That is really – incredibly unpleasant,” Will spluttered, unsure whether to be appalled or just hugely entertained.
“Oh, it was,” Djaq told him, feigning a shudder for his benefit. “It just goes to show, however pretty the eyes are…”
“You really can’t tell,” Much sighed, looking morose.
All eyes promptly turned to Much, who blushed. “So I’ve been told!” He re-iterated, firmly. “By Djaq, no less – you heard her!”
“Should we be having this conversation in front of a woman?” Little John raised his eyebrows.
“You have them in front of me all the time!” Djaq pointed out.
“She contributes,” Much agreed.
“Yeah but, you’re not – ” Little John stopped short, catching the somewhat dangerous glint in the Saracen’s eyes, “I mean – you are; you’re just, um…”
“I’m different, because I’m pure and virginal,” Marian intoned, dryly, “so I’ve been told.”
It was Robin’s turn to snort derisively – for which he was rewarded with a sharp clip about the ear from his lover.
“Anyway, it was Marian who brought up the subject of whores,” Much pointed out.
“Yes, which she wouldn’t have done if you hadn’t been comparing your sex life to that of a squirrel,” Little John answered, honestly.
“I was not comparing!” Much insisted, “I was complaining about a dumb animal managing to attract more attention from the females of his species in the space of a week than I have from the females of mine in the past six months!”
“Oh, poor Much!” Marian cooed, pulling him into a tight embrace.
Much yelped, looking slightly stricken – having had his cheek nowhere near a lady’s breasts in far longer than he would ever admit, the sudden proximity of Marian’s bosom was alarming, “what are you doing?”
“I’m paying you some attention,” Marian told him, practically, as she stroked his hair.
“Oh,” Much frowned, then looked rather pleased.
“Marian!” Robin, understandably, was not at all pleased by this turn of events.
“Oh, hush,” Marian waved a hand at him, “you get enough attention from me, Robin!”
“She’s not wrong,” Little John muttered.
“There’s no point comparing with squirrels, anyway,” Djaq pointed out, “they’re just… reproducing. There’s no – romance… no connection… and if anybody says that they find that idea appealing, I swear to Allah above that that person will be receiving my bluntest needle the next time they need stitches…”
There was a distinctly awkward silence, Marian still holding protectively onto Much – who seemed in no hurry to put an end to the situation, despite the look that Robin had fixed on the back of his head.
“Ultimately, sex means very little without some kind of emotional commitment, yes?” Djaq spread her hands, diplomatically.
“What, you mean like… flowers and stuff?” Will scratched his head
“Robin never brings me flowers,” Marian remarked, regretfully.
“I do so!” Robin looked affronted, “I brought you marigolds yesterday!”
“Yes, but real gifts are given without the expectation of something in return, Robin,” Marian told him, critically, “and you definitely wanted something yesterday…”
Over the knowing sniggers from Djaq and Little John, Robin placed a hand on his apparently wounded heart, “But you of all people know that I am a gentleman, my love!”
Marian snorted, “like you of all people know that I am virginal and pure still, I suppose?”
“Of course,” Robin waggled his eyebrows at her conspiratorially.
“You two are a terrible influence on the rest of us,” Djaq remarked, mildly.
“Us?” Robin demanded, “what about you lot, with your – squirrels and whores – ”
“I don’t think any of us have ever managed to combine squirrels and whores, to be fair,” Little John scratched his head.
“Well, Allan might have,” Will pointed out.
Djaq snorted, “I wouldn’t put it past him. I mean, I’m sure I saw teeth marks at least once when he came to me with another rash…”
“Oh, honestly, that is – ” Much, still tucked up far too close to Marian for Robin’s comfort, spluttered.
“It’s true,” Djaq folded her arms.
“Really?” Marian was fascinated.
“Really,” Djaq nodded.
“Wow,” Marian raised her eyebrows.
Robin looked rather nonplussed, “look a bit more interested, Marian, why don’t you?”
“Oh, Robin,” Marian pouted, mockingly, “you can’t blame a lady for thinking about it.”
“Particularly not where Allan’s concerned,” Djaq raised her eyebrows.
Marian smiled, mischievously, “mmm – indeed.”
“Marian!” Robin looked affronted.
Marian ignored him, giggling. “Djaq, was it – ”
“You mean, aside from the pustules?” Djaq shrugged, “it wasn’t bad.”
“Not bad at all,” Djaq winked at her.
“Djaq!” Robin was even more affronted – not at all liking the turn the conversation had taken.
“Do… um…” Will was suddenly nervous, “do women… talk about that kind of thing… often?”
Marian shrugged, looking entirely innocent.
“I wouldn’t know,” Djaq began picking at her lunch again, unfazed, “I spend all my time with men.”
“I’m not sure I like this conversation,” Much informed them.
Marian giggled into his hair.
“Do women – you know – talk about… stuff like this – Marian?” Robin raised his eyebrows at her, curiously.
“You think we don’t?” Marian offered him an enigmatic smile.
“I don’t know what you talk about!” Robin held up his hands.
“Well, let’s just say that the subjects of conversation are rather limited when you’re not allowed out of the castle more than once a week,” Marian waved a hand, drolly.
“I should think the activities are bit limited, too,” Djaq raised her eyebrows.
Marian smirked, “you gain some experience at providing your own entertainment.”
“Oh, I bet you do,” Djaq began to snigger.
“So do you take notes and compare or what?” Robin spoke up, breaking that somewhat confused silence that had settled over the men as they listened to their two female comrades talk.
“What?” Marian blinked, distracted.
“You know,” Robin waved a hand, “men’s… um – ”
“Oh, right,” Marian sat up, “well, it’s not so straight forward as taking notes.”
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d have that many to compare,” Will seemed to have forgotten entirely the precise nature of the conversation and was instead talking about it as he would a somewhat tricky conundrum involving hinged doors.
“It depends on who’s seen what,” Marian told him, equally casually, “and how many of us are talking. And who is talking – I mean, a conversation I’m having in the kitchens with the hearth girls and chamber maids is going to be entirely different to one being had with women of the court.”
“So did you ever turn up much difference?” Robin looked genuinely interested, “between… I dunno… noblemen and servants?”
“Mm,” Marian considered, “I don’t think so – though Joanna always swore to stable boys having at least a three inch advantage over every other kind of man.”
Djaq threw back her head and howled with laughter.
“Any truth to that?” Robin raised his eyebrows, and Marian drew breath to answer before he held up his hand, “no – wait – hold that; I don’t want to know. Tell me that you are pure and virginal, Marian.”
“I’m pure and virginal, Robin,” Marian’s smile was impish.
“And you haven’t seen any – ”
“Well, I’ve seen yours – ”
“Alright!” Much promptly sat up, “I think lunch is over – what about the rest of you?”