Sleep was close

Sleep was close. Dark and blissfully comforting. Except for the tapping noise. Why did sleep have a tapping noise like that? Groaning, Marian rolled over and pulled her blanket over her head, trying to block out the sound, or at least as much as she could.

The sound persisted however, and, rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes, she swung her legs off the side of her bed. Warm feet met cold floor, and she was instantly slightly more awake.

Making her way to the window, she undid the latch and opened the shutters, hoping the tapping didn't wake her father.

Robin's head was framed in the bars that stood in the window, and Marian had to suppress a smile. He caught the tilt at the corner of her mouth and grinned cheekily, throwing in a wink.

"What would you like Robin?" she asked, suppressing a yawn.

"Is the Nightwatchman up for some night watching?" he asked.

Marian raised a brow, "What are you talking about Robin?" she asked, curiosity lacing her words.

"Ah, knew you'd be interested."

"What would I be watching for, Robin?" she asked, though not as forcefully as with another person. His smile always untied her like a knot's weak point. And he knew it.

"The Sheriff has a wagon going through the forest with the next hour," he told her, "It has some special ordered food for the castle," he continued, a gleam in his eye. "As well as a few pretty purses," he added, grin flashing.

Marian contemplated this for a moment. Her decision didn't take too much thought and she told him," I'll be out in ten minutes." Not another word and he was gone from her window without a sound, and she was pulling her mask and watcher outfit out of its hiding spot.

Taking the stairs silently, she closed the house's door whisper smooth behind her. Robin was leaning against the house, almost invisible against the night and shadows.

"You're fast," his voice commented from his resting place.

"Why thank-you. Let's go," she told him, setting out. A moment later he was beside her. Stride matching stride. They said nothing, for nothing had to be said. The night spoke for both of them.

They were in the forest in only a few short minutes, and they reached the main rood soon after. The rest of the Outlaws were waiting, sitting on the ground or standing up, leaning against the pines.

"Have you heard anything men?" Robin called out.

His question was met with yawns and halfhearted shrugs. Robin laughed, "Its not that bad. Just think; we'll be giving a hearty breakfast to the poor while the Sheriff lets his stomach growl," he told them.

"And what about us? What'll we do about our growling stomachs?" Much asked, somewhat annoyed.

"Ah Much. We'll have a great breakfast, no worries," Robin reassured him, clapping him on the shoulder.

At that, Much brightened up considerably, knowing that if all this went right, breakfast would be a very filling meal.

"All right then. Into positions," Robin called out into the morning stillness.

The group seemed alive now as they jumped up and made their way energetically up the hilly forest, hiding behind trees, arrows silently being knocked, swords brought up out of they scabbards, just a bit.

Robin took Marian's hand and led her up the small hill. A thin morning mist played around their booted feet. He brought her to a large deciduous tree, and he winked when he caught her looking at him.

"That's arrogant," she stated.

He just smiled and squeezed the hand he was still holding, causing Marian to smile under her mask.

Without having to wait a long time, they heard horses' hooves clanking against the rocks on the road, wagon wheels bumping along behind.

Robin let his fingers slip slowly, regretfully from hers, and once his hand was free, he quickly shot an arrow, and seconds later came cries of anger and fear.

"You have food that can be used to feed the needy of Nottingham. Resistance is not recommended. Let us do what we do, and no one will be hurt," Robin called down.

"Yeah? You and what army?" one called back.

"Us," Little John called out, his voice sounding through the otherwise quiet and calm of the morning. The Outlaws came out from their hiding spots, arrows ready to fire, Little John with his staff, ready to wield.

The wagon driver properly scared stuttered out, "It's yours sir. Only, no harmin' us."

"Of course not," Robin assured them, smiling, "We won't do anything unless you pull something first."

"Ah, no worry of that," the driver's companion assured him, shaking.

"Good."

Robin turned to watch the removal of the food and money bags just as Little John smacked Much on the back of the head.

"No eating Much. Really."

"It was just a sampling, making sure it's any good," Much protested.

The group laughed as Much look injured.

Robin turned back to the scared men, "Now, when asked, you say you went the long route, and an angry crowd of villagers attacked you a ways back. Understand?" he informed them, staring both of them in the eyes. Both men nodded their heads rapidly, eyes wide with fear.

"Master! We're finished!" Much called, holding tightly to a sack of potatoes and a skin of wine.

"All right. Go!" Robin told the wagon driver who immediately slapped his reigns against the horses' flanks; wheels bouncing as it quickly sped off.

"Well, we did well," Robin commented as he surveyed the piles of baskets and sacks and skins. "Divide it up, a little money tucked in each side," he instructed.

The group worked quickly to finish the task so as to deliver early.

"You will deliver to Nottingham?" Robin stated to Marian as she quickly prepared a basket with several tomatoes, meat, lettuce, and a little bag of coins.

"Yes," she told him, not looking up.

After they had made their rounds, the Outlaws headed back to camp, hungry and ready for food. Much had been in charge of preparing breakfast.

"So Much. How much have you left for us?" Will asked as they sat down to eat.

"Very funny. I'll have you know I'm making this go a long way. Who knows when we'll next have decent food," he told them importantly.

"Much?"

"Yes Master?"

"Do shut up."