Not Always Second Best [Tag Allan]

[Kate Miller]

She raised an eyebrow as he pouted; she wasn’t giving in to that. She wasn’t a soft touch, at least not when drunk and adamant. ”You gunna wash me then?”[/i] she smirked, and let out a laugh, she really wouldn’t be agreeing to these things if she was sober. ”If that’s what it takes! It’s not like I’ve not seen you shirtless before!” she smiled, a smile which grew as he stood up. Even if he was a little woozy on his feet.

She used his standing form to make sure she didn’t fall over again. First thing she felt though was a finger prodding her in the shoulder, with a declaration of a gift of squirrel. ”I do not taste like squirrel!” never having tasted it or not, she would never admit that she tasted like some small annoying rodent. By the sounds of it the creatures were annoying the residents of Sherwood too.

She pulled him along by the material of his sleeve. Off towards the trees, towards the well. He was resistant and complained. Of course he complained. Then he mentioned something about being firstly. She turned back to look at him, ”We’re going to a well… you can get a drink there!” she protests and continued to drag him towards the trees.

”You can have a nice long drink of as much water as you like whilst I make you clean!” She smiled, drunken and triumphant. There couldn’t be any more argument against that. Apart from his insistence that he didn’t need to be clean. ”And if you don’t let me wash you! I’ll just tell Will and Luke you kissed me!”

[Allan A Dale]

Allan grinned at the proposal; he wouldn't mind being all clean if it meant Kate was helping him, but he would still rather not be cleaned, thank you very much. Then again, he would rather Kate didn't use him as a walking stick because his balance wasn't all that great either, and he was fairly sure they were both going to find the floor rushing up to meet them again.

"You do taste like squirrel!" he insisted, and pointed an accusing finger at her, narrowing his eyes. "You've never tasted it, so you can't tell!" He looked rather pleased with this revelation, as if he'd won an argument. He wasn't sure he had, but it was a rather valid point in his eyes.

At Kate's mention of drinking from the well, Allan had to pause. You could drink from a well? He was astounded by this revelation, but quickly found he was also irritated by it; surely Kate wasn't proposing to wash in mead? He narrowed his eyes once more. She was trying to get him to drink water! Sod that! he thought to himself. He hadn't had a chance to get properly drunk in an age, and he wasn't going to start sobering up yet!

"Just a quick detour for a nightcap?" he pleaded, trying to lead her back into the throng of people. He didn't want a nice long drink of water and he didn't want to be clean! He wondered where Will was; surely Will would be on his side? Unfortunately the carpenter was nowhere to be seen and Allan was left feeling thoroughly disappointed.

"Yeah 'cause they'll like you cleaning me better than you kissing me!" he grumbled, trudging along after her. "Your logic is twisted mate, twisted."

[Kate Miller]

”I do not taste like squirrel! I taste like human, like skin, like me!” she mumbled as she felt herself being dragged back towards the crowd. She would argue that they had had more that enough to drink, and that they couldn’t possibly need any more alcohol. The point in that however was close to zero, he wasn’t about to not drink something he didn’t have access too.

’Cause they’ll like you cleaning me better than you kissing me.”[/i]

”Me washing you though would be purely my own decision.” she laughed, raising a hand to her chest and shrugging her shoulders, as if to clear herself from the matter, it was nothing to do with her after all, ”You kissing me however, I’d be so helpless, and I’m so innocent I wouldn’t possibly want to have an outlaw in such close proximity.” she mentioned twirling around towards the table of mead. ”Or well something to that effect!” she rambled, giving up in her mission to pull him to the well. She was drunk as it was, one more drink really wasn’t going to make much of a difference.

”And as I recall, you kissed me! Not the other way around!” It didn’t really matter which way around it had happened, all she cared was that it did. And she could use it, well tonight anyway, against him. If she needed or wanted to that is.

[Allan A Dale]

"You do taste like bloody squirrel," he muttered under his breath as he approached the beverage table and poured himself another ale. Allan liked ale. He'd drink it all day if he could; he'd feel sick the next day, but what would it matter? He lifted the cup in Kate's direction, as if offering it. "Did you want one?"

He snorted. "You, helpless and innocent? My arse is more innocent than you!" he said, grinning at her and poking out his tongue. "You are a crafty git, and I know you bloody well enjoyed it." He was talking rather loudly at this point, but he didn't really notice. Besides, everyone was talking loudly and were too interested in their own conversations to care.

Allan started walking towards the well, mostly at Kate's insistence, to which he muttered "I'm coming, I'm coming..." and downed the rest of the amber liquid before slamming the mug onto the table and following the young seamstress towards the well. He wasn't quite sure why he was letting himself go to the well as he had absolutely no intention of washing, whether he did it or Kate did, but he was a little clueless as to how to extract himself from the situation tactfully.

Or, well, as tactfully as he could at the moment - at least in some reasonable way so he wouldn't regret it in the morning. He knew perfectly well that he'd had a few too many by this point, as the world was spinning slightly and he was taking a few too many missteps, as well as not being entirely sure that he actually meant to say anything he said, but he was going with it.

"You'd look good in red," he declared randomly, as he watched her walking in front of him, eyes slipping to her ass more often than not, and when he caught himself he'd look back up. Unfortunately, they kept slipping. "Red's a good colour. And orange. And green. I like green. And I like ale! Though the stuff is better in Rochdale; I think someone's watered it down," Allan started rambling.

He paused for a moment and squinted. Was that someone disappearing into the woods in the distance? Why? It wasn't that late yet. Whoever it was, they were on a sturdy and proud looking horse, cantering slowly away.

"Whossat?" he asked, pointing in the figure's general direction. It didn't occur to him that Kate might not actually know. He walked up to her and leant over her shoulder, face in hers. "I dun't know that horse. I miss my horse." He sniffed a bit, not from crying but from the cold night air making his nose run. He wouldn't cry over a horse. "I want Scarlet back..."

[Kate Miller]

Kate was about to protest again, but then, she saw very little point in it, he was bloody insistent she doubted he was about to give up, so she would. He offered her a goblet of ale, more ale, ale was good. She gleefully accepted taking a long gulp of the liquid.

He laughed at her, "You, helpless and innocent? My arse is more innocent than you!"[/i] Kate feigned shock, as he poked her tongue out at her and she leant back slightly putting her hand over her chest, in a ‘how very dare you’ stance. "You are a crafty git, and I know you bloody well enjoyed it." “Me? I am an Artist! I’m meant to be crafty! And so what if I enjoyed it, it’s not like it happens on a regular basis! Do you know how much my father would kill me if it did?” she hadn’t meant that to bring up bad memories either, far from it.

She pulled his hand in the direction of the well. She had no intention of forcing his clothes off of his back, but the Well was a nice place to hang out, it was peaceful, well Kate liked it. She liked to go there to think. Now he was rambling about her looking good in red. Her brow knitted and she laughed slightly at him. He was the talkative rambling drunk. She took another quick sip from her goblet, now he was talking about watered down ale. Now he mentioned it, it did taste like such.

Whossat?”[/i] Kate squinted in the direction of the forest, she recognised the horse, it was Vern. Isabel’s horse. ”That’s Isabel! Issie. Good ol’ witchy Issie!” Kate giggled, his horse was called Scarlett? How cute. Naming his horse after his and her best friend. ”Might not want to get to close to good ol’ Issie! She’ll cast some sort of witchy spell on you! And steal you away and have her withcy way with you! And I can’t be having that!”

As the rear end of Vern disappeared before her, she walked in the direction of the dirt path to the well. ”You know, there’s something spooky about that girl. She tastes people!”

[Allan A Dale]

Allan hadn't noticed Kate's mention of her father; he was too fixated on the strange figure on the horse and how much he missed his own mare, but the word witch had recaught his attention.

"Witch?" he asked, ears almost twitching. He'd heard many a folk legend of witches in Nottingham and if he were quite honest, he was very superstitious. Some habits were hard to break; touching wood before he went on a mission/theft just for some luck, crossing himself at the mention of the supernatural (as he did now), never finishing the first pint. He supposed some of this was just his family, but hey, these were the things he did.

"She tastes people?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. That was a bit weird wasn't it? Especially for a witch. But then maybe she turned people into toads by licking them or something? Maybe it was something in her saliva... Or maybe she just ate people. He'd heard stories of strange people from the Holy Land and beyond that ate other people; cannibals or something, he thought they were called. The thought made him shudder. It wasn't natural.

"She goes round licking people?" he asked, a bit nervous. He licked Kate; did that mean she thought he was a witch? Or, whatever a male witch was. His brain was too fuzzy to think of the word. Something to do with locks. He stood up straight and frowned. "Sh'wouldn't putta spell on me," he said, somewhat confident. "'Cause I ain't done nothing to her!"

[Kate Miller]

”Witch?”[/i] she turned around and nodded, ”Witch, spells and curses, witchy witch!” okay, so Issie probably wasn’t a witch. But hey, she has some weird witchy disease. Nobody knew what was wrong with her. Thus she was classed under the proverbial term ‘witch’. Even if she wasn’t. She’d have to live with that for the rest of her life. At time, Kate felt sorry for the girl, outcasted from her own community.

She nodded as he asked her if she tasted people. She did. Kate didn’t know how it worked, but at some point there had been mentions from the villagers that they’d been old that they taste like things. Like Jon, she’d told him that he tasted like Apple Pie. It freaked the kid out. ”She already has! You’re already going around licking people, tasting them. Telling them they taste like things! Who knows ht the next stop is! Tasting them without licking them!” she jested as she skipped up to the edge of the forest. Taunting him.

”She doesn’t need a cause to put a spell on you! You’re an extremely good looking man, if she wanted you, with the click of her fingers, you would be hers. And you wouldn’t know about it. All your rational thought, all you could think about is her! You’d love her. Or think you did, and you wouldn’t know any different!” Kate was spinning now. Story wise, and physically. Turning down the path, laughing and joking as the words escaped her mouth.

”Yup, all her little witchy powers! And you’d just be powerless against her!”

[Allan A Dale]

"'m not a witch," Allan muttered, almost childishly defending himself. He wasn't going to start tasting people without licking them, and he wasn't in any way supernatural, thank you very much. He was actually starting to dislike this conversation immensely. Who knew who would overhear them and hunt him down, to drown him like they had tried with Mathilda. He shuddered. No, he didn't want that. He liked breathing.

Oh, now he really didn't like the way this conversation was going. He was already having enough trouble keeping his head straight in regards to who he thought he liked and who he actually could love, and he wasn't managing to get that right either. He didn't need to be thinking about the possibility of someone having put a spell on him. How did he know the people around him weren't actually witches and he was just ensorcelled, unable to tell? How did he know Kate wasn't a witch? He slapped himself for thinking such things, not caring if Kate were amused by such antics. He continued following her, although at a slower pace now.

After a few moments of (sort of) careful thought, he tugged on Kate's dress. "you'd tell the gang if I got bewitched wouldn't ya? They'd come and save me, right?"

He hoped they would, anyway. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind that he was being extremely silly, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to care, or make himself shut up. He also suspected Kate was enjoying teasing him so and had subconsciously decided to allow her this fun. It wasn't like anyone was around to see.

Were they?

[Kate Miller]

”Not yet you’re not! Give it time!” she giggled as she jogged ahead of him, he really was superstitious, scared of what he didn’t understand. Wasn’t everybody? Deep down everybody was so scared of what they didn’t know. Kate would be willing to bet everything she owned that even the great Robin Hood feared the unknown. Even if he pretended like he didn’t.

She ran around the stone wall of the well. She had been tempted to stand on the side of it, give her a foot more height. Give her the upper ground, but she didn’t trust her drunken self not to fall down into the water. There would be no way of her coming back up from that either. She’d be stuck, girl of the well. She could hold on to the bucket support, the wooden frame. She jumped into the air landing on the wall, on two feet.

”Of course!” she walked round the stone wall, her airs out like a bird, keeping her balance, rather badly. ”I would tell dearest William of how Allan A Dale has fallen in love. That they should be happy for you! To leave you be with your love.” she smiled down at him innocently, holding onto the wooden support.

”I would tell them all. You have fallen under a powerful spell!” she giggled as she swung round the post and continued on her way around the wall. Again. ”The wonderful,” she paused, lowering her voice to a somewhat dangerously low volume, ”inescapable,” she paused again smiling at him, ”spell of love.”

Quite how she’d managed to get herself onto the subject she had little idea. Well she did… she was drunk, and talking of bewitching spells of Isabel. It just made sense for her to bewitch him into loving he when nobody else would, poor lass.

”I’d be so caught up in the drama of it all, I’d merely forget to mention the fact that you kissed, nay snogged me! Which would he take better? News of your running away in love with a witch. Or you’re kissing of a helpless, lowly peasant girl he’s known all his life.”

[Allan A Dale]

Allan watched Kate dance along the top of the well wall and wasn't impressed. That was dangerous, wasn't it? She could... slip or something. And Luke probably wouldn't be happy to see her round the well if he had bought her excuse about slipping. And she was still teasing him about being put under a spell. Didn't she realise this was serious?!

"Oh no, that's not funny!" he whined as she began talking of how she'd tell the others they ought to leave him be, happy and in love. He didn't want to be in love! He wanted to be slightly grouchy and in need of a girlfriend and to run around Nottingham and fight guards, steal off the rich and give to the poor and all that malarky. Not see a pretty girl, fall arse over eyeballs in love and chase her to the ends of the earth only to have his guts ripped out for a potion. Or for staying out late drinking. Whichever happened.

"I reckon I were better off when you were just trying to wash me," he muttered a little too loudly, plonking himself down not so gently next to the well and feeling altogether a little sorry for himself.

[Kate Miller]

”It is for me,” she laughed hopping around a little more, before seeing him slump down grouchy. He wasn’t happy any more? So his suspicions about witches made him upset. Oh dear. She frowned and jumped down from the side of the well and turned the wheel, bringing the bucket full of icy cold water to the surface. She disconnected the bucket and stuck her hand in it. Cold! she ripped her hand from it. Flicking her fingers out showering Allan in heavy drips of water.

”Don’t fret so much!” she said putting the bucket on the floor, and crouching beside him, ”I wouldn’t let her have her witchy way with you! Then where would I be without an Outlaw to play with and protect me. “ she smiled and stuck her hand in the water, cold though it was. She wiped her finger over the spot that she’d licked, ”But if your gunna be all mopey about it, I’ll wash you, and make you all shiny!” She smiled, she didn’t like him to be upset. It just wasn’t right.

She had to make him happy again. Sad Allan just wasn’t something anybody should have to cope with, it was bizarre and alien and just wrong.

”I won’t let her take you! It’s okay! I’ll get Will to tie you to a tree or something…”

(OOC - sorry about shortness.... my brain hurts XD)

[Allan A Dale]

Allan grumbled something unintelligible and not particularly polite under his breath as Kate splattered him with water. Hadn't he said he didn't want to be washed? In any way. He swatted at her leg gently as she crouched beside him and stuck his tongue out. Of course she'd let the witch have her way with him; she'd as good as admitted that already! He was feeling a little despondant as a result.

Allan flinched at the cold hand and wiped his nose to rid himself of the water she'd left behind. He scowled at her. He didn't want to be washed! He liked being dirty! He knew he was being childish but dammit the woman didn't seem to understand the word no! Right now he wanted to be left alone, dirty and mopey and think about other mopey and anger inducing things. Like what, he didn't know (probably how Robin had tricked him, had he enough time to let his mind wander), but it was what he felt like doing.

He raised an eyebrow, still unimpressed. She wasn't going to make up for it now. First she threatened to blackmail him and then she threatened to clean him (what was it, he wondered, with women and keeping clean? Djaq and Marian were both nutty about it too and often commented on the men's apparent lack of hygine. Had either of them ever lived like the rest of the country? Water was for drinking, and crops, and animals, and for washing occasionally. Most people could only afford a certain amount of soap...) and now she was threatening to have Will tie him to a tree?

"I'll tie you to a bloody tree..." he mumbled, a little louder than he'd meant to. He stuck his hand in the bucket and wet his companion with a handful of water in retaliation for the flick.

[Kate Miller]

”Don’t you scowl at me mister! You’ll find it will do you no good,” she said, ignoring his swatting. She stuck his tongue out at him as she drew her hand from his face. She wanted to knock some senses into him. She had covered this before – Allan A Dale should not be grumpy, it didn’t suit him, and Kate didn’t like it. Today had been a happy day, well, night. So she minded a lot that now he had gone from a hyper, happy drunk to a sad, grumpy drunk.

She rolled her eyes as he wiped away the remaining moisture from his nose. What was his objection to being clean? Why did men, and any outlaws for that matter, have to be so damned dirty? She would never understand that. It was the only reason really why she’d never make a good outlaw – she hated being dirty. That and the thought of leaving home, leaving Sarah. No matter what it was that her father did to her – made the thought equally as uncomfortable.

She raised an eyebrow back at him. Was he so certain that she would just let Issie, the not-so-witchy-witch, take him? Because she wouldn’t. In a word, it would be bad. She couldn’t allow the girl to do it even if she did try – besides hadn’t she seen her having some fun with a noble looking gentleman? Allan was too much good company for her to allow it. Even when he was being grouchy.

Because he was being even more grouchy now than he had been before. She frowned at him, and prodded his shoulder ”I’ll tie you to a bloody tree!”[/i] she snorted a laugh. She’d like to see him try. Her laugh soon turned into utter shock as she screamed at the onslaught of water. She had flicked him and dampened his face with pitiful amounts of water. If he was going for the full scale however?

He was acting like a big kid, and he was what? Twenty two, twenty three? Whichever, she was at least four years his junior, yet he was being the child and not her. Well if he could get away with it then so could she…

Two could play at that game!

She stood up, a grave look on her face and took the bucket of water with her. Taking a few steps away from him; Kate emptied the contents over her companion. ”You really shouldn’t be so grumpy!” she stated as she settled the bucket back down on the side of the well. ”Or maybe I’ll tie you to a bloody tree myself!” She wiped down her dress, gathering it up in her hands before sitting on the stone wall next to the offending container.

She considered him, his wet hair hanging over his face, ”Anybody ever tell you that water suits you?” she ruffled his hair, it was dripping, and when she pulled her hand away, it dripped too. She looked at her hand disgusted and wiped the residue on her dress. Any other situation and she would have wiped her hand on him instead, but as it stood, he was currently a lot wetter than her hand. If he didn’t perk up after this she would push him in the stream.

She contemplated the thought and voiced it as fact.

[Allan A Dale]

"Don't you scowl at me mister! You'll find it will do you no good!"[/i]

Apparently she was going to treat him like a child too. That was fine. He stuck his tongue back out at her; better than scowling wasn't it? Besides he wasn't scowling, he was grumping. There was a major difference. He didn't know exactly what the difference was, but it was there all the same.
He grinned as Kate squeaked, a nice damp patch on her dress. Serves her right. He didn't want water on him, not tonight, because it might mean he'd get sober. And sober meant a pounding head and lots of other unpleasant things.

He felt a little disheartened as Kate got up and started walking away from him - he hadn't been that mean had he? - but it soon turned to shock as he found his entire front drenched. He hadn't been expecting that. He didn't think she'd dare.

He hadn't learnt much in the past few days, obviously.

Allan pulled at the ribbons hanging from his shirt, blinking and slowly comprehending what had happened. Then he started laughing. He didn't know why he found it funny, but it was; he was sat soaking wet by the well with a girl he'd known what, a week?, and the surreality of the situation simply struck him as funny. His hearty laughs subsided into quiet chuckles, although they threatened to swell onec more as Kate threatened to tie him to a tree. That too would be amusing to see.

He ran a hand through his hair once she'd done ruffling it, wringing it of excess moisture and pushing it away from his face so he could see better. He really needed to cut it some time soon, but he was useless at doing so himself so he'd have to ask someone, one day. He flicked the water away from them, swinging his hand to get rid of the dripping, and wiped it on the grass, so now he was slightly muddy as well as wet.

"Well, normally, I'm not wet in polite company, ain't it? Thanks though."

He laughed a little more as she threatened to push him into a stream. He'd perked up, hadn't he? He was laughing, that was perky. He was the definition of perky now. A bit cold, sure, and he was probably going to catch a cold or something now (so he'd make sure to visit her and share it), but he was perky.

He pushed himself off the ground and stood before her, arms out. "Clean enough for ya?" he asked before diving in and giving her a hug.

If he had to be wet, clothes clinging to his skin, then she had to at least be a little damper than she already was. He stood back and grinned at his handiwork. She was damp, and he was pleased.

"See, you look good wet too." Ever so slightly scared of retaliation, he dashed to the other side of the well, still grinning.

[Kate Miller]

Well at least now he was laughing. His smile made her smile, and as if laughing – and smiling – were contagious she was doing so as well. Any other person and they would have flipped at being covered in water. Allan however in his drunken state had taken it well and was happy. Huzzarh!

”You should definitely look into the wet look more often. You never know, might find somebody for yourself.” she laughed and clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. ”And no worries! Ever need my person soaking services again, don’t hesitate to ask!” she stood up to match his movements. As he stood, asking if he was clean, she didn’t get a chance to reply before she found herself being grabbed into a sopping hug. She winced and squealed as she felt his soaked through clothes dampen, and make hers wet. She hit him on the side of his arm, muttering in short squeals of ‘how dare he’, and that ‘I can’t go home wet!’.

”See, you look good wet too!” “I’m sure I do! But I shouldn’t be wet! she whinged as she looked up at him, a mock frown on her face. Following as he ran away, around the other side of the well. ”And no! You’re not clean enough!” she said climbing onto the edge of the well and walking around slowly, holding her arms out for balance again. She wasn’t about to run, especially now it was wet.

When she reached him, she put her hands on either side of his face and she wiped her thumb over his cheek, ”There, perfect! she said with a smile, putting her hands firmly on his shoulder as she used him to jump down from her vantage point. ”Don’t wan to go slipping over again now do I?