Nightly Surprise

By: Emmithar

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own Robin Hood or BBC, I'm just borrowing them for now and have full intentions of returning them in (almost)perfect condition.

Summary: Gisborne receives an unexpected surprise

A/N: Another one of my 'it's better if you don't ask' moments. Though you can blame Kegel since she was the one who gave me the idea.

Nightly Surprise

He had been away on a 'business trip', funded by none other than the sheriff himself. While Gisborne enjoyed his position, there were certain times, such as now, that he found himself questioning Vaysey's actions. The man had spoken about loyalty, had spoken about responsibilities, had spoken about obligations…right before handing him the dagger that was supposed to go into the back of a noble who had garnered the most ill of favors with the Sheriff of Nottingham.

Guy had done the bidding, had followed the noble out of the shire, quiet and undetected. And there, he had done what was asked of him…well, sort of. The dagger had not made it into the man's back, rather instead his side when the noble caught sight of him. But there were no witnesses, and Gisborne had made certain that no body was to be found either. Upon his reentry to Nottinghamshire, he found himself worn, and though he should have gone to the castle to report his progress, Gisborne found himself lacking in enthusiasm. Instead he sent a stable boy to deliver that everything had gone according to plan, and turned in for the night.

It was late, and so the manor lay dark and Gisborne did not bother to send guards to wake the servants. The bumbling fools, he knew, would take far too long and do nothing but mutter one endless apology after another, and he was not in the mood to hear all of their excuses. More so was the fact he required nothing, no food nor beverage as he had taken what fine stuff the noble had and put it to good use.

Quickly he stripped himself of his garments, down to a simple pair of leggings as he moved about in the dark, pulling back the covers. A smile crossed his face as his head hit the pillow, relishing in both the comfort, and the knowledge that this warm bed was his, while the previous owner was suffering out in the forest. It was a simple, but comforting thought that entered his mind almost every night before he drifted away…

He froze, eyes staring out into darkness he as he moved again. The sole of his foot brushed against warm flesh, and he pulled away quickly as he sat up. Gisborne fumbled to his side, finally managing to grasp a candle, and warm light filled the air as the flame sprung to life. The covers near him were bunched up, hiding the frame that slept below. He was enraged.

He had informed Thornton about his departure, had said nothing about his coming home tonight. It was perhaps for the best, for now he could see how his serfs disrespected him. He knew that he did not have their love and he neither needed nor wanted it. But the very thought, the knowledge that they helped themselves to whatever was his in times of his absence spun a fury through him that was so great he doubted it could be matched.

Grabbing a handful of the covers he pulled them back in one swift motion, reaching for the knife he routinely kept on the nightstand, ready to set matters straight. But he froze, his breath catching when spying the other person that was there.

"Hood?"

Robin of Locksley, who had been asleep but mere moments ago, sound asleep, shot upright, pulling free a weapon of his own from somewhere Gisborne could not see. There was a look of confusion on his face, intermixed with cold-hard concentration, of a warrior being startled on the battlefield. Gisborne had seen this expression once before, when Robin had him tied to a tree in the forest.

"What are you doing in my camp?" the man hissed at him, dagger held out in front, level at Guy's throat. "In a few moments my men will wake, so you best pray that I do not kill you before then."

It was easy to smell the lingering odor on his breath, the heavy scent of well-brewed ale. Gisborne frowned at the latest of comments, confused, as he struggled to not breathe in too deeply for fear of the smell making him ill. "I think you'll find yourself short on men," he taunted quietly, lifting his own weapon. He leaned in closer, "Welcome home."

"Home?" Robin blinked in confusion, glancing around the room. "Locksley? How—"

"Though you'll soon be relocating, to the dungeons of Nottingham. Guards!"

The last part was yelled, a grin marking his features as he watched Hood wince, obviously battling the throbbing pain induced by one too many drinks. How Robin ended up here was none of his concerns, but he was alone, drunk, and completely at his mercy. But instead of trying to flee, as Gisborne had expected, the man simply smiled.

"What would they say, I wonder, when they spy the two of us together in bed?"

"They will not say anything," Gisborne snapped quickly, "they would not dare."

"Not to your face, of course," Robin grinned leaning closer. He was obviously enjoying the conversation. "But you know how quickly rumors spread. What will the sheriff say? The people? And Marian?"

Gisborne paled, infuriated too at the fact that Hood was merely pointing out the truth. The men would not say anything here, not if they valued their lives. But word would spread, and he would be the laughing stock of the entire town. The sheriff would humiliate him endlessly, and Marian…Marian would turn away from him.

"Shall we make it convincing?" Robin continued, still grinning. "Let them see a kiss? Or at the very least a hug; I can hear them coming, they'll be here any second now. What shall we do?"

The man had leaned over now, bringing an arm into a hug. Gisborne shook him off angrily, heart pounding in time with the footsteps that were bounding up the stairs. Hood was right, any second now, that door would open, and the guards would see the two of them, half-naked, sharing a bed, with an obviously drunk outlaw fawning over him. In that moment, Guy of Gisborne made a decision he never thought he would make.

With one, swift shove, he pushed the other onto the floor. Robin looked almost bewildered, as though trying to come up with a reason to why he was suddenly on the ground, still tangled in the sheets. Gisborne wasted no time.

"Get under the bed, now! And not a word from you, understand?"

Robin was quick, rolling under at the same time the door swung open. Four men, the same guards who had been standing watch, were now at full attention, weapons drawn, ready to fight. But they were standing there, slightly confused, searching the empty room.

"What is it you called for, Sir Guy?" one tentatively asked.

"I…" he faltered, wracking his brain to find a reasonable explanation. The flicker of light caught his eye, Gisborne turning to the candle just then. And he smiled. "I cannot sleep with all this light."

There was more silence, before the same tentative guard responded. "Might I recommend that you blow out the candle then, Sir Guy?"

There was a loud, defined snort that came from under the bed, Gisborne forcing out a cough just as fast to try and muffle it. He saw the four guards exchange looks, but before they could say anything more, he was talking.

"If it had been that easy, do you think I would not have already done so? I am speaking of the light outside, from the moon, you fools. It shines through the window."

Another round of confusing looks was shot his way. How was it that he had such idiots working for him? The first guard cleared his throat again. "It is…raining…outside, Sir…"

"And?"

"Well, it is just that…we have been outside, and there is no moon tonight…"

"Are you questioning me?"

"No, Sir Guy, it is not that—perhaps you can draw the shade, then you would sleep better."

The words were stuttered, the guard quickly trying to cover for himself. Had Gisborne not been worried about more…pressing matters, he would have seen the man punished for his insolence. Still they all stood there, unmoving, and he frowned, the irritation clear in his voice.

"Well, you don't expect me to get up and do it, do you?"

The first guard moved as soon as the words were uttered, pausing only at the strange sound of snickering that seemed to be coming from underneath the bed. Gisborne cleared his throat again, an attempt to drown out the sound and get the man moving along once more. The guard took the hint, and drew the shade, turning to leave. He came to a pause, facing him.

"Sir Guy, while it is none of my concern, I can't help but wonder—"

"You are correct; it is not your place to wonder over my sleeping habits. Now leave, before I decide to flog you for insubordination."

That worked. The guard paused only to nod, and was out of the room as quick as the others. As they descended, their footfalls fading, Gisborne let out a sigh, sinking against the pillows. His heart was hammering, and his anger rising. They had barely gotten away with it, and Hood had not made matters any easier. For all he knew there might still be talk about him, about the strange way he acted, about the sounds that came from under his bed…

"Who knew you were such a convincing liar," Hood mocked, popping up by his side without warning.

"You almost gave us away," Gisborne grunted, fingers balling up into fists.

"Was there something to even give away?" Robin wondered, reaching over him to fetch his earlier discarded clothes.

Gisborne was tempted to end it there, to drive the knife up and into the man's side, but he stopped himself. There was nothing in the world that would ever explain how Hood ended up dead in his bed, only half-dressed. Instead he closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he spoke.

"This never happened," he warned. While he knew he was letting the outlaw go free, it was a far better alternative than what could have happened. There would always be another day to catch him, without ruining his reputation.

"The feeling is mutual," Robin agreed, pausing to give him a wink, "but if you're ever going to get some sleep, you may want to blow that candle out."

The man turned, staggering to the window as he pulled a shirt over his head. A moment later he was slipping outside, and Guy smirked as he heard a curse of pain. Then it faded, the sudden worry that someone might hear, or worse, see Robin sneaking away. Quickly he was out of the bed and across the room, making it just in time to see the figure hurrying off towards the forest, stumbling every so often.

How Robin had come here, and slipped by his guards, he could not say. Especially given the man's state; it was that, the reason why Robin was even here. There could be no other explanation. With a determined sigh he backed away from the window, convincing himself that when he woke in the morning, this would be nothing more than a bad dream.

The End