No Rest for the Newly Wicked
Title: No Rest for the Newly Wicked
Author: alesh101
Word Count: 1071
Rating: PG for implications
Spoilers: S2
Characters: Allan, Guy, Marian, the Sheriff, mentions Much
Disclaimer: I own nothing, Tiger Aspect, BBC do
rh_intercomm , TAR
Summary: why exactly was Allan always leaning and snoozing?
Allan rubbed at his eyes. He felt like tiny grains of sand had been embedded in them for days now. Seeing his bloodshot eyes, Guy thought he might be drinking too much, and had warned him off it when they stayed nights in the castle. The sheriff disapproved highly of drunkenness.
That's the trouble, Allan thought. Stayin' in the castle. He never lost sleep at Locksley. Sleep was hard to come by in the castle. Tension was always in the air there; tension between Marian and Guy, Marian and the sheriff, and Guy and the sheriff.
But at least they all knew the rules of the game they played. Allan was new to to working for the "dark side," as Guy liked to call it, and he felt he was being watched all the time. Guy watched him carefully to make sure he didn't screw up, Marian watched him so she could report to Robin. The sheriff only watched him.
Vaisey often stared at Allan when he was in the castle. Guy was used to being ogled by the sheriff, and ignored it. But Allan couldn't. The sheriff's eyes seemed to follow him everywhere. Whenever Allan caught him at it, he would only nod and leer with that wide gruesome grin that highlighted the black space where a tooth should be. Many times Allan had to fight a disgusted shudder when those eyes fell on him and the sheriff grinned.
He spent hours trying to figure out what was going on in Vaisey's mind when he looked at him like that. Restful sleep began to elude him as he turned the problem over and over in his mind. If he didn't know better, he would think the sheriff was having impure thoughts, the way he looked at him sometimes. But that couldn't be, could it? Stumped, he asked Guy about it one night over supper at Locksley. Guy had brushed his questions aside.
"Do you expect him to trust you right off, Allan? You're a fool if you think that's how it works. Of course he's got his eyes on you." At that, Guy had leaned in close. He did it in that confusing way he had, when Allan couldn't tell whether his employer was going to hit him or try to kiss him.
"Just make sure you don't do anything stupid that would make me look bad, Allan." His big hand had gone to the back of Allan's neck to hold him still as his eyes bored into him. He could still feel those long fingers brushing the short hairs there. "I'd hate for you to go back to the dungeons so soon." The threat was made in a silken whisper that held more menace than the hand gripping him.
Warned, he kept his thoughts to himself after that. He didn't know what he'd expected Guy to do about it, anyway. Giz was firmly under the sheriff's thumb, and not likely to protect him much from whatever the sheriff had on his slimy little mind.
Not long after the conversation with Guy Allan found out the real reason he didn't sleep well in the castle. He'd woken in the middle of the night to find Vaisey standing next to his bed, staring, with one hand lifting the blanket off of his lower half. Panic and revulsion ripped through him. What if the man tried to crawl into bed with him? Just the thought was enough to make his stomach turn over.
Think, Allan, think! One quick look at the sheriff and he realized the older man didn't know he was awake. Snuffling as if in mid-snore, Allan kicked a leg out and caught Vaisey in the upper thigh. A soft grunt and the blanket being dropped was Allan's reward. After a moment, Vaisey sighed and shuffled out of the room.
But the damage had been done. Sleep was now an impossibility. Though his eyelids felt as though they had fishing weights on them, Allan fought to stay awake the rest of that night. The next day was no better. He was tired, and grumpy, as well as skittish every time he saw the sheriff.
Marian and Guy both noticed it, and each commented on it. Guy snapped at him to get himself together. Marian was a bit more compassionate, though not by much.
"Having an attack of conscience?" she asked snippily when she'd caught him unawares turning a corner and he squeaked in panic.
"No," he said huffily, sounding an awful lot like Much. "Just didn't expect you to try and run me down right here in the hallway, that's all." He glared at her and crossed his arms over his chest.
Marian laughed outright, her good humor restored by his obvious indignation. "I wasn't trying to run you down, Allan." She took a close look at his face. "You look terrible. Are you sick?"
He shook his head. "Just didn't sleep well, that's all."
Marian nodded in understanding. "The castle is not a very good place for sleep," she said matter-of-factly. Then she left him in the hallway, wondering if she'd ever woken to the terrifying sight of the sheriff looking down on her as she slept. He doubted it. More likely she was worried that Guy would be the one standing over her bed at night.
They'd been in the castle for nearly a week straight now, and Allan hadn't closed his eyes once at night for fear that he would wake with the sheriff beside him, doing something unnatural. Head buzzing painfully, desperate for even a catnap, Allan headed for a cozy little spot he'd found. The linen closet just outside the servants' quarters was perfect to hide in for a quick snooze.
Giz had caught him out the other day, leaning against a wall and snoring. It had taken a lot of fancy footwork and some humiliating ego-stroking on Allan's part to avoid being punished. Hiding was definitely a better option.
He peered around the edge of the open door to the linen closet. Luck was with him. The room was empty and dark. He closed the door quietly behind him and set about pulling sheets and blankets together for a makeshift bed.
Plunking himself down on the pile of material he'd made, he settled in. Within minutes he was snoring lightly, safe in the knowledge that this was one place the sheriff wouldn't find him.