2 Christmas Ficlets
Title: Expectations
Fandom: Robin of Sherwood
Pairing: Sheriff of Nottingham/Guy of Gisburne
Rating: PG-13 (touch of language and the general wrongness of the relationship)
Word Count: 1208
Summary: In which the Sheriff is grumpy, only made grumpier by Gisburne being happy.
A/N: Do not turn out at all like I expected...so not entirely happy, not sure of the ending, and comes across as generally pointless. But it's a Christmas ficlet, so maybe it doesn't matter?
Robert de Rainault was not one for Christmas. He didn't have anything particularly against the holiday in general, he was more indifferent than anything else. He didn't understand all the fuss. He did enjoy, however, the extra generosity and hospitality of other noblemen. But a harsh winter storm had made travel to London impossible, and therefore the Sheriff of Nottingham would not partake of King John's grand feasts and celebrations.
Being stuck in Nottingham castle, surrounded by snow and bitterly cold winds did not put the sheriff in any sort of seasonal mood. To top it all off, Gisburne had been distressingly pleased the last couple of days. Oh, he tried to be discreet, but as he proved time and time again, discretion was not one of the knight's strengths. He'd catch Gisburne with a small secret smile on his face for no reason, or staring out windows at the expanse of whiteness with that same small, irritating smile.
De Rainault could not take it anymore. "What's the matter with you?" He snapped. "And close the drapes, it's cold enough in here already without you letting in the draft."
Gisburne jumped back, letting the drape fall back into place. He frowned down at his lord, irritated. "Nothing's the matter," he replied, then brusquely walked away.
Deciding that an irritable Gisburne was not the kind of sport he felt engaging in at the moment, he instead continued prowling the halls in the hope of finding a servant to punish for...well anything, really.
A persistent odor attracted his attention. He followed it till it became almost unbearable. What he found were four servant girls around a table full of greenery. They chatted away in the inane way women did as they tied sprigs of holly together.
"What are you doing?"
The four girls jumped and the conversation came to a halt. The girl closest to him bowed and answered timidly, "if you please, my lord, the Christmas decorations-"
"I never requested any decorations. On whose orders-"
Another girl stepped forward. "Every year my lord Gisburne..."
"Your lord Gisburne? Then I'll just have to have a chat with your lord Gisburne."
He grabbed a small garland of ivy and stormed back through the castle, calling for his steward. "Gisburne! Oh!" They nearly collided in the corridor. De Rainault quickly recovered himself and shoved the handful of leaves at Gisburne. "What is this?"
Gisburne looked down at the garland, then back at the sheriff. "Ivy, my lord."
His impertinence, whether deliberate or not, riled the sheriff. He asked his next question through gritted teeth. "I know that Gisburne, but care to explain why I found a group of wenches trying to turn them into decorations?"
That rare expression of realization came to Gisburne's face. "Ah. I suppose they expected-"
"Expected? Servants should never be allowed to expect anything. Because if they start expecting, they'll then want, then from wanting they'll go to demanding, Gisburne! So, enlighten me as to why they were expecting to make decorations."
Gisburne cleared his throat, bowing his head, and looking like a twelve year-old who was just caught being naughty. "You see, my lord, since you are always away for Christmas, I've taken it upon myself to make the castle, at least the hall, more...festive." He smiled a little and turned pink in the cheeks at his confession.
The sheriff was taken aback. "Are you telling me you actually enjoy Christmas?"
The young knight shifted his feet, making him seem all the more like an unnaturally tall child. "My childhood wasn't very pleasant, my lord. Yet at Christmas it was always-"
De Rainault pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut.. "I don't care about your happy childhood memories, Gisburne. Go tell those wenches to burn the lot."
"But, my lord-"
"Don't argue, Gisburne! Just do it!"
It was Gisburne's turn to grit his teeth. "My lord," he said with the faintest edge of sarcasm. He would pay for it later.
His own spirits lifted from being able to crush the seasonal cheer in others, the Sheriff of Nottingham thought it would turn out to be a good day after all.
That was until family had to ruin it. Hugo was actually pleased to see his brother was staying in Nottingham for the holiday. "I shall expect you at the Angel's Mass then, Robert."
"Expect away," he said blithely, taking a long drink of wine. He was getting tired of that word, "expect" and all its forms. That was the trouble with festivals, too many people with too many expectations.
"It is good politics to at least pretend to care, especially this time of year. Even King John makes an effort."
The sheriff just shrugged and held out his cup to be refilled.
"I'll remember this next time you need the church's blessings in order to enact some scheme."
That gave de Rainault pause. He supposed Hugo was the least exasperating person he had to humor in his political career. "There better not be any stupid Nativity plays. If one starts, I'm out."
"I remember being in Nativity plays."
"Gisburne, no one cares!" He snapped. "From now on keep your happy childhood memories to yourself. They sicken me."
The carriage ride through ten miles of snow was entirely unpleasant, and all just to stand in a freezing church, listening to monks droning in Latin in the middle of the night. He was completely bored and cold. He tried to make himself feel better by thinking about the erstwhile heir to Huntingdon being buried under feet of snow along with the rest of his cutthroats. After a while he could feel himself drowsing, but a sharp nudge startled him to alertness. He glared over at Gisburne who had the audacity to give him an admonishing look.
Oh, he would makes sure Gisburne was properly reminded of who reprimanded who. The sheriff smirked. Discipling Gisburne was another way to keep warm and made him all the more eager to get back to the castle.
After seemingly an age, the service ended, he said his good-byes to Hugo and was back to the cold, uncomfortable journey. He endured it by thinking about his bed and making sure Gisburne was in it when they got back. De Rainault snorted, the young fool was along side the carriage on his horse, and probably finding the cold to be "bracing." He would make sure Gisburne learned all meanings of the word.
Whenever he would bed Gisburne, de Rainault was only ever concerned with his own enjoyment, sometimes making it deliberately punitive for his steward, especially after one of his more extravagant tantrums.
Having reached the peak of his annoyance, he tried to fuck the Christmas spirit out of Gisburne. But it didn't seem to work. Gisburne was determined to enjoy his Christmas no matter what, and decided a rough night with the sheriff would make-up for the lack of holly, ivy, and a Yule log. The Sheriff of Nottingham was one to never admit defeat, and decided that if he actually let Gisburne stay till morning instead of kicking him out immediately after, it was in no way because it was Christmas.
Title: The Gay Christmas Tree
Fandom: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Pairing: Harry/Perry
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Word Count: 1203
Summary: Why Perry no longer lets Harry decorate for the holidays anymore
When you're in a partnership, whether it's business or domestic, there has to be a certain level of trust. Seeing as Perry and me are in both kinds of relationship, you'd think the trust would have to go doubly-so. Except Perry doesn't trust me. Not the usual mistrust, he's not paranoid that I'm cheating on him behind his back, no it's about-and I'm sorry about how gay this is going to sound-interior decoration, even more specifically: holiday decoration.
It was two years ago now, our first Christmas together as a couple. Perry was never one for the whole "Christmas Spirit" shit, but I said that Christmas is even more special now seeing as it was Christmas time when my life had completely changed. You remember, it was the holidays when my friend got killed on the botched job, I accidentally auditioned for a movie, got shipped to L.A., met Perry, re-met Harmony, the girl of my dreams (who, like all dream girls never do live up to the reality. Her penchant (hey, like my fancy word?) to sleep with every guy she meets didn't go away just because she finally slept with me. Finding that out led me to feeling depressed, leading me to many bottles of expensive alcohol from Perry's, leading me to waking up the next the morning in Perry's bed with Perry. He said it was a mistake, we were drunk, it was a one time thing, and it didn't mean anything. That excuse wore thin by about the fifth time.), and we all worked on the big murder case together. So yeah, Christmas was extra special for me now.
"It's like our anniversary."
"No it's not. We decided the day you 'officially' declared you were 'totally gay' for me was our anniversary. I still think it should be the first day we fucked."
I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "You can't count that. We were drunk and I was on the rebound. It'd be like celebrating Martin Luther King Day on his assassination day instead of his birthday."
"We're still not getting a Christmas tree. You've got the little one for your desk, be happy with it."
"Oh, come on! What's the harm? Let me get a proper fake tree, at least six feet. I won't ask you to do a thing with it. I'll decorate it myself, you just have to tolerate its presence."
"Fine, if it makes you shut up, fine."
The next day Perry went out for some undisclosed errands of his own, and I went Christmas shopping. I bought the tree, the ornaments, and other decorations. Back at the house I tried to get everything done before Perry came home. I had just finished hanging the mistletoe when I could hear Perry opening the front the door. Moved by the holiday spirit I decided to hide and wait just out of sight of the door frame where I hung the mistletoe. I saw his shadow and readied myself to jump in his arms.
It seems to be my fate that all my plans, no matter how well-intentioned, never work out the way they're supposed to. Perry is very capable of catching and holding my weight, I know this, but it is difficult when his arms are already full of boxes. So instead of the passionate embrace and maybe a "Merry Christmas" or "I love you so much" thrown in, we ended up on the floor among scattered gift-wrapped packages and Perry saying, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Oh, shit." I scrambled around, picking up the boxes with the wrapping that was now ripped. I was actually kind of glad to see it ripped. I always hated the store-wrapped boxes. Not wrapping the presents yourself always seemed so insincere. But hey, it's L.A., I've had to get use to insincere. "It's okay, we can just get some Scotch tape and fix them up, no one will notice. They're just going to rip it all off anyway."
Perry straightened his clothes and took some of the boxes from me. "It's not okay, dickhead. People do notice, and I have a reputation to maintain, one that does not include hastily-patched gift wrap."
"Well, I wouldn't care."
"Who said any of these were for you?"
"You're such an asshole. Don't say things like that, especially when they're not true. One of these has got to me for me."
"Well, maybe one of them was, but after that little stunt maybe I decided you don't deserve a Christmas present. You're officially on my Naughty List."
I couldn't help my smile. "Does that mean Santa Perry's gonna have to spank me on Christmas Eve?"
Perry couldn't help himself either. I saw that smirk. "Maybe."
"Come on, we can patch them later. We can put them under the tree for now." I know I was grinning stupidly by then. But I couldn't wait any longer for Perry to see my tree. Before we even got to the living room Perry stopped. "You were decorating to ABBA?"
I just grinned wider and encouraged him on. Upon seeing my Christmas tree, his reaction was in a word: disappointing. "I hate you. I fucking hate you so much."
"Why?" I pouted.
"You made a gay Christmas tree?"
Well, yeah, that was the entire point. You know, show some pride or something. So I got one of those fake trees that are all white with some colored lights already on it. The ornaments were a bunch of little disco balls, and rainbow garland. Instead of the usual Christmas angel as the topper, I stripped a Ken doll and glued some paper wings I had cut out to his back. The best part though was that I also made sure it was one of those tress that could be programmed along with music. So the colored lights flashed in time with "Dancing Queen."
"You don't like it."
"It's embarrassing. You're embarrassing. And you wonder why I don't take you anywhere."
"I'm just trying to embrace-"
"No. You don't need to embrace anything. Just because you're having sex with a man now does not mean you automatically have to become a complete, flaming fag."
"You don't even like the disco balls?"
Perry sighed and bent to put his boxes under the tree. "Turn the music off and get rid of the fucking rainbows. Ken and the disco balls can stay."
I turned the stereo off and the lights on the tree went dark. I helped Perry take the garland off. "You don't have to wait until Christmas Eve. You could spank me now if you like."
Perry gave me an affectionate slap to the head. "Kinky bitch. Keep this up and not getting a spanking will be your punishment."
I made sure I was extra good that year.
But anyway, moral of the story: Perry never appreciates anything I put effort into and has banned me from doing any sort of decorating ever. Though I suppose that's not a moral, more of a theme? Or a point. Whatever, it doesn't matter. I leave out copies of "Better Homes and Gardens" just to freak him out, though.
Fandom: Robin of Sherwood
Pairing: Sheriff of Nottingham/Guy of Gisburne
Rating: PG-13 (touch of language and the general wrongness of the relationship)
Word Count: 1208
Summary: In which the Sheriff is grumpy, only made grumpier by Gisburne being happy.
A/N: Do not turn out at all like I expected...so not entirely happy, not sure of the ending, and comes across as generally pointless. But it's a Christmas ficlet, so maybe it doesn't matter?
Robert de Rainault was not one for Christmas. He didn't have anything particularly against the holiday in general, he was more indifferent than anything else. He didn't understand all the fuss. He did enjoy, however, the extra generosity and hospitality of other noblemen. But a harsh winter storm had made travel to London impossible, and therefore the Sheriff of Nottingham would not partake of King John's grand feasts and celebrations.
Being stuck in Nottingham castle, surrounded by snow and bitterly cold winds did not put the sheriff in any sort of seasonal mood. To top it all off, Gisburne had been distressingly pleased the last couple of days. Oh, he tried to be discreet, but as he proved time and time again, discretion was not one of the knight's strengths. He'd catch Gisburne with a small secret smile on his face for no reason, or staring out windows at the expanse of whiteness with that same small, irritating smile.
De Rainault could not take it anymore. "What's the matter with you?" He snapped. "And close the drapes, it's cold enough in here already without you letting in the draft."
Gisburne jumped back, letting the drape fall back into place. He frowned down at his lord, irritated. "Nothing's the matter," he replied, then brusquely walked away.
Deciding that an irritable Gisburne was not the kind of sport he felt engaging in at the moment, he instead continued prowling the halls in the hope of finding a servant to punish for...well anything, really.
A persistent odor attracted his attention. He followed it till it became almost unbearable. What he found were four servant girls around a table full of greenery. They chatted away in the inane way women did as they tied sprigs of holly together.
"What are you doing?"
The four girls jumped and the conversation came to a halt. The girl closest to him bowed and answered timidly, "if you please, my lord, the Christmas decorations-"
"I never requested any decorations. On whose orders-"
Another girl stepped forward. "Every year my lord Gisburne..."
"Your lord Gisburne? Then I'll just have to have a chat with your lord Gisburne."
He grabbed a small garland of ivy and stormed back through the castle, calling for his steward. "Gisburne! Oh!" They nearly collided in the corridor. De Rainault quickly recovered himself and shoved the handful of leaves at Gisburne. "What is this?"
Gisburne looked down at the garland, then back at the sheriff. "Ivy, my lord."
His impertinence, whether deliberate or not, riled the sheriff. He asked his next question through gritted teeth. "I know that Gisburne, but care to explain why I found a group of wenches trying to turn them into decorations?"
That rare expression of realization came to Gisburne's face. "Ah. I suppose they expected-"
"Expected? Servants should never be allowed to expect anything. Because if they start expecting, they'll then want, then from wanting they'll go to demanding, Gisburne! So, enlighten me as to why they were expecting to make decorations."
Gisburne cleared his throat, bowing his head, and looking like a twelve year-old who was just caught being naughty. "You see, my lord, since you are always away for Christmas, I've taken it upon myself to make the castle, at least the hall, more...festive." He smiled a little and turned pink in the cheeks at his confession.
The sheriff was taken aback. "Are you telling me you actually enjoy Christmas?"
The young knight shifted his feet, making him seem all the more like an unnaturally tall child. "My childhood wasn't very pleasant, my lord. Yet at Christmas it was always-"
De Rainault pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut.. "I don't care about your happy childhood memories, Gisburne. Go tell those wenches to burn the lot."
"But, my lord-"
"Don't argue, Gisburne! Just do it!"
It was Gisburne's turn to grit his teeth. "My lord," he said with the faintest edge of sarcasm. He would pay for it later.
His own spirits lifted from being able to crush the seasonal cheer in others, the Sheriff of Nottingham thought it would turn out to be a good day after all.
That was until family had to ruin it. Hugo was actually pleased to see his brother was staying in Nottingham for the holiday. "I shall expect you at the Angel's Mass then, Robert."
"Expect away," he said blithely, taking a long drink of wine. He was getting tired of that word, "expect" and all its forms. That was the trouble with festivals, too many people with too many expectations.
"It is good politics to at least pretend to care, especially this time of year. Even King John makes an effort."
The sheriff just shrugged and held out his cup to be refilled.
"I'll remember this next time you need the church's blessings in order to enact some scheme."
That gave de Rainault pause. He supposed Hugo was the least exasperating person he had to humor in his political career. "There better not be any stupid Nativity plays. If one starts, I'm out."
"I remember being in Nativity plays."
"Gisburne, no one cares!" He snapped. "From now on keep your happy childhood memories to yourself. They sicken me."
The carriage ride through ten miles of snow was entirely unpleasant, and all just to stand in a freezing church, listening to monks droning in Latin in the middle of the night. He was completely bored and cold. He tried to make himself feel better by thinking about the erstwhile heir to Huntingdon being buried under feet of snow along with the rest of his cutthroats. After a while he could feel himself drowsing, but a sharp nudge startled him to alertness. He glared over at Gisburne who had the audacity to give him an admonishing look.
Oh, he would makes sure Gisburne was properly reminded of who reprimanded who. The sheriff smirked. Discipling Gisburne was another way to keep warm and made him all the more eager to get back to the castle.
After seemingly an age, the service ended, he said his good-byes to Hugo and was back to the cold, uncomfortable journey. He endured it by thinking about his bed and making sure Gisburne was in it when they got back. De Rainault snorted, the young fool was along side the carriage on his horse, and probably finding the cold to be "bracing." He would make sure Gisburne learned all meanings of the word.
Whenever he would bed Gisburne, de Rainault was only ever concerned with his own enjoyment, sometimes making it deliberately punitive for his steward, especially after one of his more extravagant tantrums.
Having reached the peak of his annoyance, he tried to fuck the Christmas spirit out of Gisburne. But it didn't seem to work. Gisburne was determined to enjoy his Christmas no matter what, and decided a rough night with the sheriff would make-up for the lack of holly, ivy, and a Yule log. The Sheriff of Nottingham was one to never admit defeat, and decided that if he actually let Gisburne stay till morning instead of kicking him out immediately after, it was in no way because it was Christmas.
Title: The Gay Christmas Tree
Fandom: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Pairing: Harry/Perry
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Word Count: 1203
Summary: Why Perry no longer lets Harry decorate for the holidays anymore
When you're in a partnership, whether it's business or domestic, there has to be a certain level of trust. Seeing as Perry and me are in both kinds of relationship, you'd think the trust would have to go doubly-so. Except Perry doesn't trust me. Not the usual mistrust, he's not paranoid that I'm cheating on him behind his back, no it's about-and I'm sorry about how gay this is going to sound-interior decoration, even more specifically: holiday decoration.
It was two years ago now, our first Christmas together as a couple. Perry was never one for the whole "Christmas Spirit" shit, but I said that Christmas is even more special now seeing as it was Christmas time when my life had completely changed. You remember, it was the holidays when my friend got killed on the botched job, I accidentally auditioned for a movie, got shipped to L.A., met Perry, re-met Harmony, the girl of my dreams (who, like all dream girls never do live up to the reality. Her penchant (hey, like my fancy word?) to sleep with every guy she meets didn't go away just because she finally slept with me. Finding that out led me to feeling depressed, leading me to many bottles of expensive alcohol from Perry's, leading me to waking up the next the morning in Perry's bed with Perry. He said it was a mistake, we were drunk, it was a one time thing, and it didn't mean anything. That excuse wore thin by about the fifth time.), and we all worked on the big murder case together. So yeah, Christmas was extra special for me now.
"It's like our anniversary."
"No it's not. We decided the day you 'officially' declared you were 'totally gay' for me was our anniversary. I still think it should be the first day we fucked."
I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "You can't count that. We were drunk and I was on the rebound. It'd be like celebrating Martin Luther King Day on his assassination day instead of his birthday."
"We're still not getting a Christmas tree. You've got the little one for your desk, be happy with it."
"Oh, come on! What's the harm? Let me get a proper fake tree, at least six feet. I won't ask you to do a thing with it. I'll decorate it myself, you just have to tolerate its presence."
"Fine, if it makes you shut up, fine."
The next day Perry went out for some undisclosed errands of his own, and I went Christmas shopping. I bought the tree, the ornaments, and other decorations. Back at the house I tried to get everything done before Perry came home. I had just finished hanging the mistletoe when I could hear Perry opening the front the door. Moved by the holiday spirit I decided to hide and wait just out of sight of the door frame where I hung the mistletoe. I saw his shadow and readied myself to jump in his arms.
It seems to be my fate that all my plans, no matter how well-intentioned, never work out the way they're supposed to. Perry is very capable of catching and holding my weight, I know this, but it is difficult when his arms are already full of boxes. So instead of the passionate embrace and maybe a "Merry Christmas" or "I love you so much" thrown in, we ended up on the floor among scattered gift-wrapped packages and Perry saying, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Oh, shit." I scrambled around, picking up the boxes with the wrapping that was now ripped. I was actually kind of glad to see it ripped. I always hated the store-wrapped boxes. Not wrapping the presents yourself always seemed so insincere. But hey, it's L.A., I've had to get use to insincere. "It's okay, we can just get some Scotch tape and fix them up, no one will notice. They're just going to rip it all off anyway."
Perry straightened his clothes and took some of the boxes from me. "It's not okay, dickhead. People do notice, and I have a reputation to maintain, one that does not include hastily-patched gift wrap."
"Well, I wouldn't care."
"Who said any of these were for you?"
"You're such an asshole. Don't say things like that, especially when they're not true. One of these has got to me for me."
"Well, maybe one of them was, but after that little stunt maybe I decided you don't deserve a Christmas present. You're officially on my Naughty List."
I couldn't help my smile. "Does that mean Santa Perry's gonna have to spank me on Christmas Eve?"
Perry couldn't help himself either. I saw that smirk. "Maybe."
"Come on, we can patch them later. We can put them under the tree for now." I know I was grinning stupidly by then. But I couldn't wait any longer for Perry to see my tree. Before we even got to the living room Perry stopped. "You were decorating to ABBA?"
I just grinned wider and encouraged him on. Upon seeing my Christmas tree, his reaction was in a word: disappointing. "I hate you. I fucking hate you so much."
"Why?" I pouted.
"You made a gay Christmas tree?"
Well, yeah, that was the entire point. You know, show some pride or something. So I got one of those fake trees that are all white with some colored lights already on it. The ornaments were a bunch of little disco balls, and rainbow garland. Instead of the usual Christmas angel as the topper, I stripped a Ken doll and glued some paper wings I had cut out to his back. The best part though was that I also made sure it was one of those tress that could be programmed along with music. So the colored lights flashed in time with "Dancing Queen."
"You don't like it."
"It's embarrassing. You're embarrassing. And you wonder why I don't take you anywhere."
"I'm just trying to embrace-"
"No. You don't need to embrace anything. Just because you're having sex with a man now does not mean you automatically have to become a complete, flaming fag."
"You don't even like the disco balls?"
Perry sighed and bent to put his boxes under the tree. "Turn the music off and get rid of the fucking rainbows. Ken and the disco balls can stay."
I turned the stereo off and the lights on the tree went dark. I helped Perry take the garland off. "You don't have to wait until Christmas Eve. You could spank me now if you like."
Perry gave me an affectionate slap to the head. "Kinky bitch. Keep this up and not getting a spanking will be your punishment."
I made sure I was extra good that year.
But anyway, moral of the story: Perry never appreciates anything I put effort into and has banned me from doing any sort of decorating ever. Though I suppose that's not a moral, more of a theme? Or a point. Whatever, it doesn't matter. I leave out copies of "Better Homes and Gardens" just to freak him out, though.