[fic] : robin hood (bbc) - where wickedness is welcome
Title: Where Wickedness Is Welcome
Rating: PG
Word count: 360 words
Characters: Guy/Marian
Disclaimer: Robin Hood is copyright to Tiger Aspect and the BBC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
Summary: Utter fluff. Guy and Marian are married and they have a waterfight. AU, obviously. Written as a break from the angst of having a whole heap of work due sooner than King Richard's return home.
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It is summer. High summer. Summer so hot and close that Marian’s dress clings to her and she longs keenly to be bare-chested, like a man. Like her husband, Guy. She straightens (just for a moment, she tells herself) and pauses from hunting carrots in the dirt. They are proving hard to find, being scrawnier than her son Tom’s skinny arms. Tom is running around his father. His cheeks are red and his forehead and upper lip glisten with sweat. Everything he says is a question, despite his father’s ever-shortening responses.
Marian is a little worried by this, until Guy catches her eye. He smiles reassuringly. He is tired, she can tell, but willing to try at patience. His patience has stretched far longer today than she would have expected, especially given the heat.
Even as she thinks of it, the heat seems to grow, clinging ever closer to her. She gives her vegetables up altogether, moving to sit in the small patch of shade beneath the overhang of the roof. Sitting there, eyes closed, is bliss. There is a breeze…just a hint of one.
Guy whispers something to Tom. She hears Guy leave, his measured tread fading as he walks away from their house. The next thing she knows, there is a hot little body flinging himself into her arms. She nearly pushes him aside - and then it occurs to her that perhaps, perhaps he will soon be reluctant for her to hold him. So they sit there together, eyes closed and without words.
Suddenly there is a splash. They are both soaking. And Guy stands there, wooden bucket in hand, with a wider smile on his face than she has ever seen before. The water from the deep well is cold as winter, but it is more than welcome.
“I hope there is water left in there,” she says. In a scramble and an almost-trip, she is by his side and up-ending the bucket over his head. But of course, there are only drips left. Only by running his hands through her wet hair and laying his hot cheek against hers, can Guy grow any cooler.
---
end.
Rating: PG
Word count: 360 words
Characters: Guy/Marian
Disclaimer: Robin Hood is copyright to Tiger Aspect and the BBC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
Summary: Utter fluff. Guy and Marian are married and they have a waterfight. AU, obviously. Written as a break from the angst of having a whole heap of work due sooner than King Richard's return home.
---
It is summer. High summer. Summer so hot and close that Marian’s dress clings to her and she longs keenly to be bare-chested, like a man. Like her husband, Guy. She straightens (just for a moment, she tells herself) and pauses from hunting carrots in the dirt. They are proving hard to find, being scrawnier than her son Tom’s skinny arms. Tom is running around his father. His cheeks are red and his forehead and upper lip glisten with sweat. Everything he says is a question, despite his father’s ever-shortening responses.
Marian is a little worried by this, until Guy catches her eye. He smiles reassuringly. He is tired, she can tell, but willing to try at patience. His patience has stretched far longer today than she would have expected, especially given the heat.
Even as she thinks of it, the heat seems to grow, clinging ever closer to her. She gives her vegetables up altogether, moving to sit in the small patch of shade beneath the overhang of the roof. Sitting there, eyes closed, is bliss. There is a breeze…just a hint of one.
Guy whispers something to Tom. She hears Guy leave, his measured tread fading as he walks away from their house. The next thing she knows, there is a hot little body flinging himself into her arms. She nearly pushes him aside - and then it occurs to her that perhaps, perhaps he will soon be reluctant for her to hold him. So they sit there together, eyes closed and without words.
Suddenly there is a splash. They are both soaking. And Guy stands there, wooden bucket in hand, with a wider smile on his face than she has ever seen before. The water from the deep well is cold as winter, but it is more than welcome.
“I hope there is water left in there,” she says. In a scramble and an almost-trip, she is by his side and up-ending the bucket over his head. But of course, there are only drips left. Only by running his hands through her wet hair and laying his hot cheek against hers, can Guy grow any cooler.
---
end.