Alone At Last IX

[Jacob Payne]

"Hey there, Jack! How's it going?" Jacob growled, his name wasn't Jack and he didn't like the chatty, unconcerned tone Allan was taking with him. He was used to intimidating people with just a glare and Allan undermined that just by talking as though they were old friends. He squeezed a little harder on Allan's wrist in retaliation while he tried to think of a reply. Something that would strike fear into the outlaw's heart.

"Better." He said to the outlaw, bearing his teeth and with a dangerous glint in his eye. It was true, his day had improved greatly since getting hold of Allan. He wanted to hurt the traitor anyway and he now had somewhere to vent all his frustrations at being trussed up by Robin and his gang.

Allan tried to poke him in the eye and Jacob spotted the movement and reacted just in time. He now had hold of both arms and he crossed them to prevent the outlaw from attacking with his fists again. Before Jacob could throw the man to the floor and really get a few punches in Allan kicked out at him, foot connecting with his stomach. Jacob let out a surprised grunt and unclenched his fists reflexively.

He ignored the slight throbbing pain in his stomach and turned on the outlaw. Jacob would not be making a mistake like that again, he would pulverise Allan so badly that even his own mother wouldn't recognise him. The tag would be proof enough that he was part of the gang and if he should accidentally kill him? Well... accidents do happen.

"Niiiice. Latest fashion from Paris?" Paris? Jacob's lips moved slightly, echoing the words Allan had just spoken. He didn't understand what he was implying but he was certain it was a taunt of some kind and that only fuelled his anger towards Allan. Unwilling to let him get another word in Jacob took a swipe, his fist connecting with Allan's jaw. Not enough to knock him out, but enough to knock him back and stun him for a second or two at least. It had been a hasty move, born of anger, but Jacob didn't care he would win whether he was fighting at his best or not.

[Allan A Dale]

Maybe provoking him isn't such a good idea, Allan thought as he was let go. He didn't have the protection of the Sheriff this time, and it had barely done any good in the castle anyway. The man had extreme strength and didn't seem to want to keep it in check.

Allan hadn't been expecting such a speedy recovery and was confused when he was no longer watching his opponent but looking at the shadowy sides of a thatched cottage. He shook his head, trying to clear his vision - he really didn't need any more hits to the head at the moment, he often had enough trouble concentrating anyway.

"Now that's not very nice," he muttered, picking up his rock and throwing it at the brute. It struck his shoulder and bounced off, but Allan was unsure if it actually did anything. While he was down, he grabbed a little bit of mud to keep hold of, in case he had the chance to fling it in his eyes.

Allan might just win, if he could blind his opponent.

[Jacob Payne]

Jacob supposed it was too much to ask that the first punch took Allan down. He wasn't all that bothered though, it was much more fun when they tried to fight back. It increased the adrenaline rush he got out of it and it was just boring when he didn't even have to break a sweat. Not that he would be sweating in this cold while he was wearing only his underclothes.

Allan stumbled for a moment, disorientated and shaking his head and Jacob just watched with a slight smirk, enjoying the man's suffering. Allan muttered something but Jacob wasn't listening because he was too busy concentrating on the rock that had just been hurled at him. He tried to dodge and the rock hit his shoulder, it would probably leave a bruise but it wasn't anything that would hold Jacob back for now.

Advancing on Allan, the evil glint back in his eye, he swung with his fist, but missed as Allan ducked to the side. Jacob noted, with glee, that Allan was favouring one of his legs. He didn't dwell on this, saving it as a special torture he could use later, and instead brought the other fist up connecting squarely with Allan's gut.

[Allan A Dale]

Allan dove to the side as another hammy fist came towards his face, cursing as he dropped what little mud he'd managed to grab as he tried to sustain some semblance of balance, and because he'd managed to land on his left leg.

"Give me something to work with here!" he whined at the man, unsure himself whether he meant an opening for some sort of attack or whether he meant some conversation. He'd always wanted to try out that entire witty banter thing.

He shifted his weight to his other leg and prepared to try and attack the brute again but found himself clutching his stomach, a fist like a brick having punched him perfectly in the gut. That would probably bruise and be a bit sore for a few days.

The punch was followed up by a kick to his side, and Allan rolled across the grass, stopping a short distance away and slowly getting to his feet, watching as Jacob approached sinisterly.

Weren't the good guys supposed to win?

Exhausted, tired, sore, Allan wasn't sure he could keep this up for much longer, so he pushed himself up off the ground, let out a whimper of a war cry and charged straight at Jacob, head down, arms up, trying to tackle him down to the floor where he could really begin to fight dirty, only to find himself bouncing off like an acorn off the ground, and nearly falling on his arse all over again.

He felt a little woozy, and the world was spinning - like he'd tried to headbutt a wall or a mighty oak tree. He stumbled for a moment before finding himself up close and personal with the man who was kicking his arse.

"Don't suppose we could talk about this over a pint?" he asked weakly.

[Jacob Payne]

Even Jacob's follow up kick to Allan's side didn't seem to keep him down for long and Jacob frowned, getting frustrated. Sure he enjoyed it when his opponents tried to fight back, but Allan was starting to annoy him. The outlaw rounded on him seeming to prepare for some attack, but Jacob could see the signs of injury and fatigue so he didn't even bother to move as the man charged at him. He tensed, leaning into the tackle and grinning as the less bulky outlaw was repelled, stumbling backwards and looking decidedly woozy.

Jacob advanced, forcing Allan to start trying to hobble backwards. He was faster though, which was unusual and if it hadn't been for Allan's injury he would never have tried this approach. Soon he was only a foot away and Allan was pleading weakly with him, which only made his inevitable victory all the more satisfying. He was close enough to hook his leg round, making sure to connect with the thief's injured ankle, and pull Allan's feet out from under him.

Allan's arms flailed a little as he tried to keep his balance and all it took was a cruel shove from Jacob to the chest to send his opponent tumbling backwards onto the floor. Jacob's bulky frame was towering over Allan and he leaned over the outlaw, smiling in a way that would give murderers a bad name. He put a foot on the outlaw's chest, to stop him from squirming and trying to crawl away, and raised his fist, feeling immensely proud of the next words that came out of his mouth.

“Say Goodnight.” He growled, voice low and menacing.

[Kate Miller]

Allan was having his rear end handed to him on a platter. That was the best way to describe what she saw. Obviously she was rooting for Allan to win, but she didn’t see it as liking. The Guy was twice Allan’s size. In bulk more than anything. And would happily squish Kate like a bug. If he knew she was there. Which so far he didn’t.

She watched Allan’s feeble excuses for attacks on the near bare guard, that guy must have the skin of an ox, she thought to herself, and she fidgeted on her spot and looked on at the action some more.

As The Guard’s fist connected with Allan’s jaw the first time, she winced. She’d seen people fight before. Will and Luke for starters. But never had she seen something quite as brutal as this. This man would kill Allan given half a chance. And Kate was glad for once that she didn’t know what he had gotten up to in his past.

As Allan looked over towards her, she drew back. He had told her to stay put. And him seeing her now wouldn’t help his cause. Once she heard him speak to the man again she stuck her head out once more. She cringed, shutting her eyes, and slowly opening one to see the fight, as Allan was punched in the stomach. She really didn’t want to see this. But if she wasn’t there he really would be served to the Sheriff in a bloody mush. She couldn’t let that happen.

Kate held back a laugh as Allan joked with his attacker. How could he keep it up when it was certain he’d be battered bruised, and probably broken when he woke up the next morning? He didn’t sound in the best of places right about now. His voice was weaker than it should have been and that worried her. So she weighed up the piece of wood in her hands. It had to be better than nothing.

The guard had shoved hard on his chest, and he was down. Having taken a poor advantage of Allan’s injured ankle. Cheat.

His back was too her and he made his final advances on Allan. So she took her chance. She ran out silently. Got right behind the man. And raised the wooden hunk she held.

”Say goodnight. she gently tapped him on the shoulder. Smiling sweetly up at him, his brow knitted in confusion as she swung the wooden bat type block at the side of his head..

”Good Night.” he slumped to the floor. Everything perfectly missing Allan. Apart from that one foot that had been on his chest. But it couldn’t do much more damage that it had done.

”I thought you could do with a hand,” she said offering hers out to help him get up. The poor guy would have enough problems anyway.

[Allan A Dale]

Allan gave out a cry of pain as Jacob roughly dragged his injured foot from out of him and landed awkwardly on the floor, air forced out of his lungs. Before he could properly take a deep breath, he felt the man's foot crush into his chest, effectively pinning him down. He tried to struggle, tried to pry the foot from his chest, to little avail.

He'd like to say he'd been brave at this point. Looked directly at Jacob as the man knocked him out, fierce glare. And he would, later on, claim to have gotten the upper hand on the burly guard "because he is, frankly, an idiot". As it were, he turned his head and shut his eyes tight. Unlike the heroes of legend (and Robin and Will), he knew that pain hurt and it didn't make a difference whether you were paying attention to the one inflicting it upon you or not.

He'd much rather hope closing his eyes made him disappear.

So Allan clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable blow... And he heard a smack, the impact of something heavy against someone's head, but after a few moments, nothing came. He felt Jacob's foot shifting, lying across him rather than pushing him into the dirt, and heard the flump of a body dropping next to him.

Cautiously, he opened one eye. Yep, still Knighton. Why am I not waking up in the dungeons? Or better yet, dead? he wondered, turning his head slowly to make out a now-familiar face smiling down at him, hand outstretched in an offer of help.

"Kate?"

His brain didn't comprehend for a moment.

"Oi!" he suddenly exclaimed. "I thought I said stay inside?" Are Robin's suicidal tendencies rubbing off on everyone he meets? he idly wondered. Then he shrugged. Really, he should have expected no one to listen to him. They never did any other time.

"I don't think I want to mess with you when you're on your monthly," he quipped, accepting the hand and standing up as quick as he could.

Oh, was he going to ache in the morning...

He looked down at Jacob, gave hima little kick in his side with his good foot. He really didn't feel like trying to drag him all the way back to the barn, trussing him (and any other escapees) back up and then guarding them all night. But, he realised, he might have to. If this one could escape, so could the others, and so someone'd have to stay there (if only to keep knocking them out. And Allan certainly wasn't adverse to that).

Whatever he did, he still needed to drag the unconcious man out of sight. He knelt down and grabbed his ankles, standing back up and lifting the body up slightly before pulling him along, arms limply dragging through the grass behind him, with great effort.

God, was he heavy.

(OOC - I hate my internet -_-;; It's really annoying me now. *had to write this THREE times* An' I'm still not gonna be able to post it till tonight... *angry* My parents do sucketh.)

[Kate Miller]

"I thought I said stay inside?" She nodded, he had. She hadn’t. She didn’t intended on the guy pummelling him to death. Nor did she particularly want him to. ”You did, yes. And I didn’t. No.”

"I don't think I want to mess with you when you're on your monthly,"[/i] She glared at him, she could have fun with him, if he would at her. ”I make that, oooh, three times I’ve save you from getting your arse kicked today, Mister ‘I-help-damsels-in-distress’. Maybe you should let me help. You seem as if you need it.”

She continued to taunt him as he dragged the Guard’s body across to where tit had come from. Sure she could have helped him. But there was the conditional tense again. She could. It didn’t mean that she would. She really should though. The guy had a busted ankle, and he’d just been battered and bruised and knocked down more times that Kate had cared to count.

”You gunna accept my help this time? Or do I have to ask, batter my eyelashes, and save your arse, again, then help you. Again.”She smiled not letting him answer, grabbing a hold of part of Jacob’s leg. Bloody HELL! she exclaimed to herself as she realised quite what it was she had knocked out. Maybe he really should mess with her.

With a considerable amount of effort, they made it back to the stable. Huffing and puffing, Kate a little red in the face. As she dropped what she had a hold of, doubling over in an attempt to breathe better.

”Training or not. I’m no outlaw.” she let out a heavy breath before standing and flicking her hair out of her face.

”Come on, let’s get you back. I’m no doctor. But I can have a look see if he’s done any really bad damage.” she smiled, holding out her hand, (to indicate he should take her arm of course), to aid him back across the green. Not that he really needed it by how he’d been moving. But she had a feeling if he used it much more, Djaq would have his guts for garters.

[Allan A Dale]

Allan just rolled his eyes. Women. But he did laugh. Had he said that? Thinking on it, yes, he had said he rescued damsels for a living. What a day to choose that....

"Just call me Alana," he winked, huffing as he pulled the body. He was glad for the help, he certainly needed it - the man was like a pile of gold bricks. She'd managed to put a lot of power behind that. Or gotten really lucky.

He didn't really want to think about what could have happened.

Eventually, they managed to drag Jacob back into the barn, and found the other guards unconcious and untied. Allan set to tying them all back up again (and gagging them, he felt it dangerous to let them be able to scream at the moment, should they wake up) with the ropes scattered around the room, and made sure to loop Jacob's back through on itself and tie his hands and feet together behind him. He grinned. Let's see him get out of that one without any help!

"No," he admitted, "But I think you're good at what you do. I'd never be able to make clothes in the morning and knock men the size of a barn out in the evening. I'm awful at sewing."

He knew this for a fact. He'd had to do it many times before.

"Ah, I'm fine!" he laughed, waving off her hand. He felt pretty good at the moment and wanted to enjoy the walk before the pain began, as he knew it would. He always felt good after a big old scrap, whether he won or lost. It was the fighting that gave him the pleasure. Knowing he could beat some people, knowing others could wipe the floor with him... It was all good.

As they walked back across, he took her arm anyway.


(OOC - why is it Allan's currently in worse shape than Will? *amused*)

[Kate Miller]

Kate laughed at him. Continually calling him ‘Alana’ on their trip to the stable.

”Ah, I’m fine!” she raised an eyebrow at that. He might have been ‘fine’ now. He wouldn’t be in a minute once he’d calmed down. Or, if her father realised what she had just been up to. Then he wouldn’t be in one piece either. Or, for that matter, if her family found out he was an outlaw. Then she might as well paint herself in bruises and throw herself to the Sheriff, yelling ‘Hang me!’ at the top of her voice.

Of course, he wouldn’t find out. Not unless somebody let it slip. She certainly wouldn’t. She’d just have to silence Luke. That if her father let him stay. Uptight, unforgiving bastard.

They started to walk back across the green, and he reached out and took her arm any way. He wasn’t using her for balance. Quietly, in the dark, she looked at, it was foreign. But oddly nice. A comfort. If her father saw the smile that spread across her face infectiously, she’d be locked up. More so than she was already.

When they reached the house, the torched had been extinguished, her parents in the bed. She raided her lip to her lips, indicated for Allan not to make a noise. She opened the draw of the desk slightly grabbing out her flints, and a few candles. The Torch lighting would make too much noise and wake her parents. Throwing her in more trouble than she already was in. She didn’t need that.

She lead the way, quiet as a mouse, back into the changing area. The pile of blankets still lay in the middle of the floor. So she stopped in front of them to stop Allan falling over them causing himself further injury. She waited for him to be in the room before crouching and lighting the candles.

She spread them, lit, across the room. Before starting on the blankets and making a bed shaped pile out of them. She patted it; it wasn’t the thickest of padding. But it was better than the floor. Anything was better than the floor. She smiled brightly to herself as she finished screwing up a few blankets for a pillow.

”There you go, sir,” she said adding a wink. Before standing. ”You want me to take a look at your injuries? See if there’s anything I can do about them?”

[Allan A Dale]

Allan laughed along with Kate, though he hoped she didn't call him that in front of anyone else. He'd never live it down.

The journey back to Kate's house wasn't long, but very pleasant. They didn't talk, apart from Kate's occasional giggles of "Alana" but it was... nice. He didn't usually like the quiet. Maybe he was just really exhausted. Yeah... he thought. Today's been really hectic, I'm just sleepy.

Nodding to Kate as she motioned for him to remain quiet (and he was quickly discovering he didn't have the energy to talk all that much anyway, so it was a good thing he'd been enjoying their peaceful little stroll) and he carefully snuck inside the house with her. His ankle was acting up again by this point, the pain slowly returning in full force, and if he really concentrated he was fairly sure it was more swollen up than before. He nearly laughed when he realised he still hadn't put his boot back on that foot, and now it was covered in grass and muck. Oh well, he lived a dirty life. No matter.

Before he could lend a hand, Kate had shifted his bedthings around to make a sort-of mattress and gave him a wink, asking if he wanted her to take a look at him, see if he was injured (any further). In all honesty, he didn't want her to have a look. He wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep for a month. Perhaps longer. He'd already proven to be a bit of a wimp today and was pretty ashamed of himself, especially for making a such a fool of himself in front of Kate, and had no desire to show himself up even more. He didn't have a lot of pride left as it was.

"It's nothing," he replied, waving a hand and smiling, watching the candlelight flicker. "I'm just gonna go to sleep and wake up fresh as a daisy in the morning!"

Noting a skeptical look, he shook his head. "Honestly, I'm fine. Outlaw's honour."

He took her hands and guided her to the changing room door, giving a small bow and kissing her hand. "I thank you, m'lady, for my life, my lesson, and my accommodation." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "And the clothes."

He let go and took a few steps back.

"Now go bugger off before your dad thinks I'm trying to seduce you."

[Kate Miller]

She smiled warily and nodded. She could feel a yawn coming on, and tried her earnest to suppress it. She failed. ”You might. I’ll still wake up. And won’t be fresh as a daisy. I’ll be tired, and cranky. And I still need to fix your trousers. So feel free to run, not that you can, away. But don’t come crying to me when your trousers fall down.” she yawned again.

”Outlaw’s honour,”[/b] she laughed slightly, trying to keep quiet. ”And how much honour is that exactly?” she asked before smirking slightly. A damn sight more than the Sheriff, that’s for sure.

As he led her to the door, she couldn’t help but smile. Yes, it meant she actually had to leave. And face her father if he came in, in the morning. But the feel of his hands in hers, hers in his, made it all quite worth it. When he bought it to her lips, her stomach lurched. It wasn’t exactly a bad feeling. But her father was asleep, right next to them.

She blushed, looking to the floor, and at their hands between them, ”Night.” she mumbled, so not to wake her ‘sleeping’ parents.

"Now go bugger off before your dad thinks I'm trying to seduce you." she smirked at him, one more jibe before she left for bed, ”Oh and you’re not?” she pouted, battering her eye lashes at him, before grinning at him. She reached up to drop the curtain across to give him privacy, but didn’t want to shut it on him. So she handed it to him, and turned her back on him. She slowly, and quietly walked across the room to her and her sister’s room, casting him one last look as she disappeared through the door.

She shut it, tight. Leaning against it she grinned to herself. Pushing off the door and making her way to her bed. She picked up her nightgown and pulled her day clothes over her head. Roughly pulling the beige gown over her head she climbed under her blankets. With one final smile she closed her eyes. She was going to have to get some sleep after the day she’d just had.

[Allan A Dale]

Damn, he'd known her one day and she knew what he was thinking. That couldn't be good!

He'd just have to try extra hard to get away early in the morning. He wasn't going to stay any longer than he was welcome, and he was fairly sure his welcome had reached its peak, as far as her dad was concerned.

"Hey, I have a belt!" he laughed, partly at the mental picture she'd painted and partly at her yawning. She must be shattered.

"It depends on the outlaw," he replied, thinking about mostly himself and some of the ones lurking round the forest, the ones with no alliance to anyone but themselves. He'd been like them, once. Maybe he still was, but he was learning.

He grinned, winked, and shrugged. "Maybe." He took the curtain gently, still smiling, bowing his head in thanks and watched her as she left the room, waving a jaunty little wave as she disappeared. He dropped the curtain and sighed, walking over to his makeshift bed and collapsing on top of it in a rough heap, looking at the candle burning nearby and lifting his arm, moving to put it out and plummet him into the pitch black of the room. He'd knocked the makeshift pillow out of the way when he'd landed, so his head was resting on the thin blanket beneath him, but he really didn't care. He'd slept on worse, he was grateful for what he had.

He was just too tired to care about anything by that point. The talk with Will and all the emotions it had released, falling down the hole and hurting his ankle, Djaq's seeming disregard releasing yet more emotion, Will's idiocy and subsequent capture, all the worry that came with that, Kate and the flirting, feeling lousy for being left behind, the fight with Jacob... It had all caught up with him, and within moments he was unconcious, unstirring through the entire night, and he didn't dream of anything.

[Kate Miller]

Once her head had hit the pillow, she had tossed a few times, and then was out like a light. She fell asleep with a smile on her face. As traumatic and eventful as the day had been. She had had a good day as well. To the watching world she rolled over in her sleep. Hair splayed out behind her. One hand up on her pillow whilst the other hugged her.

She looked peaceful. But in her mind she was anything but.

She walked out of her room, into the main quarters of the house. Her father at work in the mill. Her mother sat at the desk working on some embroidery. She raised an eyebrow and headed for the back room. It was empty. No blankets, no candles. No Allan. She looked around as if they would magically appear in front of her, but they didn’t. Her eyes widen and she ran into the mill.

Her father was laughing manically. He had Allan roped up and helpless. Unconscious after all his efforts. She felt her breath hitch in her throat, as she tried to stop him. But he turned around. ”You thought you’d get away with the outlaw? You’d thought you’d get away! You’ll never get away!” he laughed at her. Tears brimming in her eyes, unable to speak. She back out of the door shaking her head.

”No,” as she blinked her tears fell, and she sniffed heavily. ”I didn’t. I wouldn’t” her mother just sat there as her father approached her even more.

”No. You won’t.” his hand raised-

Kate shot upright in bed. Breathing heavily, her heart racing like there was no tomorrow. She was beaded in sweat over her forehead, and she could feel her night clothes stick to her. It felt… uncomfortable.

She clambered out of bed. It was day break. No more rest of the ‘wicked’. She made her way out into the main room. Her mother and Father were already out. She let out a sigh of relieve. Before opening the shutters to her home. Letting the morning air pour in. She sat then at the desk. She bought out Will’s top. And continued to fiddle with the seams.

[Allan A Dale]

Allan groaned as he rolled over onto his side, patting around for his roll to pull over his shoulders. He was cold and his head was pounding like no one's business. He then shifted back onto his back, as his side was aching.

Why was his side aching?

He opened his eyes and quickly shut them again. This wasn't the forest. Where was he? How'd he get here? Where were-

Oh.

Gingerly, Allan sat up, thinking over yesterday's events and rubbing his jaw. Damn, that hurt. He was feeling a little guilty about something, and he wasn't quite sure what he'd done to warrant such emotions. He didn't often feel guilty.

He heard a clacking from the room beyond his, and reached out to lift the curtain up slightly. He winced; even this little exercise was hurting him. He saw a familiar looking skirt and dropped the curtain like it had been a red hot iron.

Oh shit.

He'd flirted with her. He'd kissed her. Well, sort of. He'd acted like he really fancied... no, it was something more than that. He may have acted like he was courting her.

Allan cursed himself. With the morning came clarity, came rest, and in the knowledge that Will was (probably) back at camp, safe and reasonably sound, also came the knowledge that he may just have played a fairly nice girl along. A nice girl with a long standing history with his best friend.

You didn't do that sort of thing. He'd learnt that before, in a bad way.

It wasn't that he didn't fancy Kate. He did. But then, he fancied most women. He'd even contemplated Kate's mum, which just went to prove how his mind worked. He simply appreciated the female form, but he had the suspicion that his actions - he went for gentleman, and flirt, and something had happened that really shouldn't have; was it better or worse that he hadn't just gone and taken advantadge of her? - were going to have consequences.

And she was nice, in that girl-next-door-you're-a-little-surprised-by way. He certainly enjoyed talking to her, and wouldn't mind doing so in the future (or flirting with her. He liked flirting). But deep down he knew he'd given the impression of more.

Since when had he learnt to lie to himself? He'd utterly convinced himself that he was in love - and he had thought it several times; "I really like her" was as close as Allan got to love - last night, to distract himself from Will. And possibly to distract himself from Djaq, too. More than likely. Probably. Definitely...

Shut up, he told himself firmly.

Now what was he supposed to do?

He wanted to be friends.

He groaned a little. It really was Djaq all over again.

He lay still for a little while, thinking to himself, before coming up with a plan. He'd flirt, like he had been, only... cruder. If it didn't at least put her off a bit, it would allow him to flirt without feeling obligated to collect her flowers or something. He just hoped he didn't upset her.

He really didn't do well with emotional women. Or, he was beginning to suspect, women at all.

(OOC - in which we see Allan decide to calm it down in his weird, not very nice way. Everyone'd kill him if they could see into his head. xD I hope this didn't come off too harsh - he does fancy Kate but doesn't want a relationship and I wasn't quite sure of how to convey that... All he did so far conveyed that he did want one. ^_^;; Oops? Hypocrite!Allan~)