Happy Birthday - Guy/Allan
Title: Happy Birthday
Author: punkfunkdisco
Characters/Pairings: Guy/Allan
Spoilers: Vague spoilers for series 2 but nothing major. Might just cause confusion.
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I did not create, nor do I own, any of the characters. Not making anything from them.
A/N: Written for theechochorus, prompt 'Happy Birthday'. Word count - 366.
It was the Sheriff’s birthday and he was throwing a party. Allan had been employed as a general dogsbody, which was no surprise, but Guy was nowhere to be seen. Allan had searched most of the castle before giving up and deciding to have a nap in a quiet room, which was storing the gifts that visitors had brought for the Sheriff. The table that dominated most of the small room was draped in a dark red blanket to protect it from scratches and Allan whisked it off to wrap around himself. He wasn’t used to such comforts and so he took the opportunity of sleeping in the warmth.
Allan dozed for a while, listening to the sounds of party preparation: the screams of geese being slaughtered for the feast, servants running up and down the corridors in a panic, the castle gates opening and closing. Suddenly, the door to his hiding place creaked open and he jumped at the sound. Peeking out from his resting place behind the large wooden chest (it wouldn’t open, he’d already tried), Allan saw his master.
Guy looked quickly around the room before spying Allan’s distinctive eyes behind the chest of bones from Sir William Blackley.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Guy’s smile was excited yet cruel “Sleeping on the job again, are we?” Allan awoke from his slumber quicker than he ever had. He rose to his feet and dusted himself down.
“Nah, I was just sorting the presents out for later.” He lied lamely. Guy raised an eyebrow and stepped through the doorway.
The day before, Allan had been complaining to Guy about his lack of history. Allan did not know where he had been born, or even what time of the year. He did not know his birth date and neither had his brother Tom. Guy had feigned disinterest at the time but had later secretly thought of setting a date on which Allan could celebrate - or rather they both could celebrate. Today was the day on which Guy had decided and he branded his gift in his hand.
Allan’s gaze shot to Guy’s hand, which contained some red silk ties and a whip.
“Happy birthday, Allan.”
Author: punkfunkdisco
Characters/Pairings: Guy/Allan
Spoilers: Vague spoilers for series 2 but nothing major. Might just cause confusion.
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I did not create, nor do I own, any of the characters. Not making anything from them.
A/N: Written for theechochorus, prompt 'Happy Birthday'. Word count - 366.
It was the Sheriff’s birthday and he was throwing a party. Allan had been employed as a general dogsbody, which was no surprise, but Guy was nowhere to be seen. Allan had searched most of the castle before giving up and deciding to have a nap in a quiet room, which was storing the gifts that visitors had brought for the Sheriff. The table that dominated most of the small room was draped in a dark red blanket to protect it from scratches and Allan whisked it off to wrap around himself. He wasn’t used to such comforts and so he took the opportunity of sleeping in the warmth.
Allan dozed for a while, listening to the sounds of party preparation: the screams of geese being slaughtered for the feast, servants running up and down the corridors in a panic, the castle gates opening and closing. Suddenly, the door to his hiding place creaked open and he jumped at the sound. Peeking out from his resting place behind the large wooden chest (it wouldn’t open, he’d already tried), Allan saw his master.
Guy looked quickly around the room before spying Allan’s distinctive eyes behind the chest of bones from Sir William Blackley.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Guy’s smile was excited yet cruel “Sleeping on the job again, are we?” Allan awoke from his slumber quicker than he ever had. He rose to his feet and dusted himself down.
“Nah, I was just sorting the presents out for later.” He lied lamely. Guy raised an eyebrow and stepped through the doorway.
The day before, Allan had been complaining to Guy about his lack of history. Allan did not know where he had been born, or even what time of the year. He did not know his birth date and neither had his brother Tom. Guy had feigned disinterest at the time but had later secretly thought of setting a date on which Allan could celebrate - or rather they both could celebrate. Today was the day on which Guy had decided and he branded his gift in his hand.
Allan’s gaze shot to Guy’s hand, which contained some red silk ties and a whip.
“Happy birthday, Allan.”