Robin Hood: Will in Tights
So, if you haven't heard, Robin Dunne is playing Robin Hood in an upcoming Sci Fi Channel movie. Alas, no tights *sad face* So I was chatting with Shelma32 about this tragic omission and was inspired to write this. Which I may have to spin out to a full-length fic because Ren Faires after hours can get all kinds of fun and crazy and, besides, it's always fun to watch people into Covert Ops trying to operate in plain sight while those around them miss the point.
Lanna_Kitty, the corset was, of course, JUST for you *hug*
Ashley sat down on the ground next to her mom, passing her a flagon of mead. Magnus smiled at her, taking a small sip.
“Gracious,” the older woman murmured, smiling appreciatively. “I haven’t had mead this delightful since Scotland. I think it was... 1903?” She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, the autumn of that year.”
“Werewolves?” Ashley asked, smoothing her skirt.
As a rule, she didn’t do dresses. But when your corset doubled as a bullet-proof vest and you could not only get a knife down your front and up each sleeve but strap enough weaponry to stock a small armory to your legs, you really stopped having room to complain about being girly.
“Kelpie, dear,” Magnus corrected her mildly. “Nasty little blighter.”
“Ouch,” she answered, smiling at her mom.
Who really looked like she should be walking down the aisle with King Arthur right now but was still sitting unashamedly on the muddy ground because it was ‘authentic’ and they were trying to blend in, damn it.
Will and Henry had yet to put in their appearances. All Ashley knew for sure was that she was going to have ammo against Henry for YEARS after finding out that he’d already owned a sized suit of armor. He could claim it was just about his interest in historical warfare like those swords and the crossbow in his bedroom, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. Owning a suit of armor was one thing; the Sanctuary had several.
Owning a suit of armor that actually fit your ass made a different statement entirely...
Granted, that was coming from a woman who hadn’t needed to go shopping for the bullet-proof corset she was wearing. She grimaced. It had taken her mother’s foot in the small of her back to get those laces secured. Her next corset was definitely going to be a few sizes too big.
“So what’s an abnormal doing at a historical reenactment anyway, Mom?”
“Passing, presumably,” she answered, nodding discreetly towards a passing pair of men dressed in skins whose faces had been painted blue.
“Hey, guys, hope you didn’t start the party without me,” Henry greeted them.
Ashley grinned. As knights in shining armor went...
Henry was wearing leather leggings that no doubt afforded a hell of a view. Unfortunately, his chainmail shirt fell to mid-thigh. He wore a loose red shirt over that, emblazoned with, of all things, the coat-of-arms Uncle James had come up with for the Sanctuary back in the day, complete with an appropriate Latin motto:
Bene qui latuit bene vixit: he lives best who lives hidden.
“Henry Foss, is that a broadsword in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” she teased.
“Actually, Ash, it’s a hand-and-a-half sword. Other than that, both.” He smirked.
Magnus let out a little wuff of air, although it was hard to say whether it was amused or disapproving.
“Hey, I’m going to go help myself to some mead. Either of you ladies need a top-off?”
“Please,” Ashley said, handing him her flagon.
“Be careful, dear,” Magnus advised. “Mean is deceptively strong. We need our wits about us. This is Recon, not recreation.”
“I’ll watch myself,” she promised. “But I need to blend in, too, so I can’t afford to be the only person here without a full flagon.”
Magnus nodded her acceptance of this and Henry turned to leave. Then he stopped, turning back to face them with twinkling eyes.
“Will show either of you his outfit yet?” he asked, voice full of mischief.
“The Black Knight from Monty Python?” Ashley ventured. It was something extremely geeky if Henry was getting that big a kick out of it.
“Better,” he assured her with a smirk, laughing as he walked off.
Ashley glanced curiously at her mom, who was wearing a slightly speculative smile.
“Any ideas?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Magnus answered, shaking her head. “But it should certainly be interesting,” she added, sipping at her mead again.
The mouthful of honey-wine immediately started leaking out of her nose. She was sitting there with wide eyes and an expression like she’s just been handed firsthand evidence of the existence of God and wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad one.
“Mom, are you okay?” Ashley asked, grabbing the handkerchief she’d stuffed down her front to keep the knife from clinking against the corset.
Magnus mopped herself off, looking a little shell-shocked.
“What happened?” Ashley asked.
She shook her head as if to clear it, then stared into the crowd again. “Oh, my,” she whispered. “It is him...”
Frowning, she followed the direction of her mother’s gaze. Her jaw dropped and she had an insanely inappropriate physical reaction. Will was making his way towards them, careful not to let his longbow hit anyone.
It wasn’t the bow, or even the fact that Will didn’t seem remotely embarrassed about walking around in period dress. It wasn’t the weirdest undercover gig they’d done before, not by a long-shot.
No, what got Ashley was the green tights that left nothing to the imagination.
“Ashley, my dear?” Magnus murmured, tone playful.
She smirked, “Yeah, Mom?”
“I think we might just enjoy this day after all.”
“Hell, Mom, here’s hoping that a one-day Recon spins itself out to a week,” she answered. Which sent them both into gales of laughter.
Will stared down at the two women clinging to each other and shaking his laughter, smiling. “Ladies. I just miss something?” he asked.
“Not at all, Will,” Magnus assured him smoothly. “If anything, I’d say you arrived just in time. Join us?”
Ashley opened her mouth to second the invitation, then caught another glimpse of the tights. Giggling, she buried her face in her mother’s shoulder again.
She had just managed to recover and was doing her best to ignore Will’s perplexed expression when Henry, damn him, showed up again with a smug, “Told ya’ so.” Which in itself might not have set her off again, but then he just had to go and say, “Nice tights, Will. Couldn’t find any in your size?”
Lanna_Kitty, the corset was, of course, JUST for you *hug*
Ashley sat down on the ground next to her mom, passing her a flagon of mead. Magnus smiled at her, taking a small sip.
“Gracious,” the older woman murmured, smiling appreciatively. “I haven’t had mead this delightful since Scotland. I think it was... 1903?” She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, the autumn of that year.”
“Werewolves?” Ashley asked, smoothing her skirt.
As a rule, she didn’t do dresses. But when your corset doubled as a bullet-proof vest and you could not only get a knife down your front and up each sleeve but strap enough weaponry to stock a small armory to your legs, you really stopped having room to complain about being girly.
“Kelpie, dear,” Magnus corrected her mildly. “Nasty little blighter.”
“Ouch,” she answered, smiling at her mom.
Who really looked like she should be walking down the aisle with King Arthur right now but was still sitting unashamedly on the muddy ground because it was ‘authentic’ and they were trying to blend in, damn it.
Will and Henry had yet to put in their appearances. All Ashley knew for sure was that she was going to have ammo against Henry for YEARS after finding out that he’d already owned a sized suit of armor. He could claim it was just about his interest in historical warfare like those swords and the crossbow in his bedroom, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. Owning a suit of armor was one thing; the Sanctuary had several.
Owning a suit of armor that actually fit your ass made a different statement entirely...
Granted, that was coming from a woman who hadn’t needed to go shopping for the bullet-proof corset she was wearing. She grimaced. It had taken her mother’s foot in the small of her back to get those laces secured. Her next corset was definitely going to be a few sizes too big.
“So what’s an abnormal doing at a historical reenactment anyway, Mom?”
“Passing, presumably,” she answered, nodding discreetly towards a passing pair of men dressed in skins whose faces had been painted blue.
“Hey, guys, hope you didn’t start the party without me,” Henry greeted them.
Ashley grinned. As knights in shining armor went...
Henry was wearing leather leggings that no doubt afforded a hell of a view. Unfortunately, his chainmail shirt fell to mid-thigh. He wore a loose red shirt over that, emblazoned with, of all things, the coat-of-arms Uncle James had come up with for the Sanctuary back in the day, complete with an appropriate Latin motto:
Bene qui latuit bene vixit: he lives best who lives hidden.
“Henry Foss, is that a broadsword in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” she teased.
“Actually, Ash, it’s a hand-and-a-half sword. Other than that, both.” He smirked.
Magnus let out a little wuff of air, although it was hard to say whether it was amused or disapproving.
“Hey, I’m going to go help myself to some mead. Either of you ladies need a top-off?”
“Please,” Ashley said, handing him her flagon.
“Be careful, dear,” Magnus advised. “Mean is deceptively strong. We need our wits about us. This is Recon, not recreation.”
“I’ll watch myself,” she promised. “But I need to blend in, too, so I can’t afford to be the only person here without a full flagon.”
Magnus nodded her acceptance of this and Henry turned to leave. Then he stopped, turning back to face them with twinkling eyes.
“Will show either of you his outfit yet?” he asked, voice full of mischief.
“The Black Knight from Monty Python?” Ashley ventured. It was something extremely geeky if Henry was getting that big a kick out of it.
“Better,” he assured her with a smirk, laughing as he walked off.
Ashley glanced curiously at her mom, who was wearing a slightly speculative smile.
“Any ideas?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Magnus answered, shaking her head. “But it should certainly be interesting,” she added, sipping at her mead again.
The mouthful of honey-wine immediately started leaking out of her nose. She was sitting there with wide eyes and an expression like she’s just been handed firsthand evidence of the existence of God and wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad one.
“Mom, are you okay?” Ashley asked, grabbing the handkerchief she’d stuffed down her front to keep the knife from clinking against the corset.
Magnus mopped herself off, looking a little shell-shocked.
“What happened?” Ashley asked.
She shook her head as if to clear it, then stared into the crowd again. “Oh, my,” she whispered. “It is him...”
Frowning, she followed the direction of her mother’s gaze. Her jaw dropped and she had an insanely inappropriate physical reaction. Will was making his way towards them, careful not to let his longbow hit anyone.
It wasn’t the bow, or even the fact that Will didn’t seem remotely embarrassed about walking around in period dress. It wasn’t the weirdest undercover gig they’d done before, not by a long-shot.
No, what got Ashley was the green tights that left nothing to the imagination.
“Ashley, my dear?” Magnus murmured, tone playful.
She smirked, “Yeah, Mom?”
“I think we might just enjoy this day after all.”
“Hell, Mom, here’s hoping that a one-day Recon spins itself out to a week,” she answered. Which sent them both into gales of laughter.
Will stared down at the two women clinging to each other and shaking his laughter, smiling. “Ladies. I just miss something?” he asked.
“Not at all, Will,” Magnus assured him smoothly. “If anything, I’d say you arrived just in time. Join us?”
Ashley opened her mouth to second the invitation, then caught another glimpse of the tights. Giggling, she buried her face in her mother’s shoulder again.
She had just managed to recover and was doing her best to ignore Will’s perplexed expression when Henry, damn him, showed up again with a smug, “Told ya’ so.” Which in itself might not have set her off again, but then he just had to go and say, “Nice tights, Will. Couldn’t find any in your size?”