Stuck this one on LJ a while back and stumbled upon it now – and thought it more amusing than when I had just written it. Hope it makes you smile.

(1)

At the shrill sound, Marian picked up the little black box from her bedstand and pressed a button.

'Marian.' The voice coming from inside the box was unquestionably familiar, but slurred and hoarser than usual.

'Guy.' She wanted to sound stern and annoyed but only succeeded in sounding concerned and needy. It may have had something to do with the fact that she had spent the past hour thinking about what would happen if Sir Guy were to pay her a late night visit.

'Do you know what time it is?' she finally managed to inject the required note of reproach into her tone.

'Marian, I am shorry. I am… so… shorry if I… woke you up… but I need to… talk to you…'

'Can we talk tomorrow?'

'Letshh talk now, Marian!.. Marian?'

'All right,' she sighed in mock exasperation.

'Marian…'

'Yes'

'Will you please listen to me?'

'I am listening, Guy'

'I am such a bad man…'

'Don't say that, you are not all bad,' she suppressed a smile. In some respects, like that glorious chest, those long legs, those magnetic eyes… in some respects Guy was not bad at all.

'I am, I really am, I know. I have been sho bad to you…' his voice took on a whimpering quality and Marian heard a faint sound of sniffing.

'Guy, it's all right, please do not upset yourself now. You can redeem yourself, you know.'

'Really?'

'Yes.'

'And you will help me?'

'Yes.' She tried to brush away a couple of very specific and rather unconventional redemption techniques that sprang up in her mind.

'Thank you Marian.'

'You are welcome, Guy. Get some sleep.'

'Marian…can I come and wish you good night?'

It took a good deal of self-possession to reply in a steady voice.

'No, Guy, it is too late.' And he is too drunk anyway.

'Good night then.'

'Good night.'

'Shweet dreams'

'And the same to you.' She pressed the button that ended the call, tossed around in bed for a while, and finally settled down and started drifting off to sleep.

The box rang again.

'Guy.' With only three people in Nottinghamshire in possession of these devices and the third one being Vasey, it did not take a lot of guesswork.

'Marian, I am shorry…'

'You said it already, Guy. What is the matter?'

'Marian, I have done you so much wrong..'

Here we go again. I need to bribe the Trip Inn owner into watering down Guy's wine after midnight. Or slipping in some eau-de-vie so he would pass out.

'…but I love you so much… Marian!'

'Guy, it is all right, you have had too much to drink…'

'No, Marian, I love you, I am not shaying it because I am drunk… I am not drunk!'

'I know that' The first part, that is. There is no question about the last bit being wishful thinking.

'I know you must hate me… everyone hates me and I deserve it…' How does a voice as deep as Guy's manage to sound as if he were whining?

'I do not hate you. I like you, Guy, I really do…'

'Really?!'

'Yes. Will you go back to sleep now?'

'I was not…ashleep…'

'All right, will you let me go back to sleep now?'

'Oh, I am shorry…'

'It is nothing. Go to bed. Sweet dreams, Guy. See you tomorrow… Guy?'

The silence on the other end gave way to more sniffing.

'Guy, please…'

'Marian, I want to… talk to you.. so much! Can I come to your shamber now… please?' Marian suspected that what Guy wanted could hardly be defined as talking but decided to let it slip.

'Guy, I promise we shall talk tomorrow.'

'But you never keep those promises, Marian.'

'This time I will keep it, I pro… I am sorry, Guy, I swear we shall talk tomorrow. Does this help you sleep?'

'Yes. Good night, Marian. I love you.'

'Good night, Guy. I… I really like you.' She wondered if she had given away too much, but dismissed it as Guy had hopefully been too drunk to pay close attention.

Just after the matin bell, as Marian was having a not-altogether-unpleasant dream of her upcoming conversation with Guy (where little was actually said, all things considered), the infernal device rang again. She thought about letting it ring, but knew from experience that Guy would not stop calling until she answered. She also knew that switching it off would bring Guy to her doorstep… yet after a few seconds of tense internal struggle, she resolutely took her finger off the power button, and pressed 'talk' instead.

'Guy, you must sleep now. You cannot keep calling me like this.'

'Marian,' he was practically wailing, 'I cannot live without you. Do you… can you… like me jusht a little bit?'

'I do like you., Guy,' she said with sudden conviction, but quickly checked herself, 'but not when you are calling me ten times in a row in the middle of the night!'

'Forgive me. I just wanted to shay that… I am shorry for all the times I have offended you…'

'It is nothing, Guy. You are going to redeem yourself, remember?'

'But you will never love me. You will always like Hood better than me!'

'That's not true!' Marian was surprised at her own vehemence.

'Really?' Guy raised his voice to a rather peculiar pitch.

'Yes! He has bad breath!' Marian wondered for an instant if she had given away too much with that casual remark. 'And he never washes his clothes!' she added hastily, wondering if that remark was any safer.

But it seemed to have worked.

'Really, Marian, you like me better… you dislike me lessh than Hood?'

It was an issue increasingly open to interpretation.

'Yes.'

'Oh Marian! My angel! Can I come and wish you good night… please?'

'Guy, I give you my word of honour that we shall talk tomorrow morning. But for that you need to sleep now.'

'Good night, my love.'

'Good night, Guy.'

The following morning Marian was up bright and early and found herself pacing the castle courtyard for no apparent reason. But as time went on and her stroll was solitary as ever, she grew increasingly irritated. It was early afternoon when Vasey sauntered onto the castle porch and spotted her.

'Good day to you, Lady Marian. Taking the fresh air, I see?'

'Good day, my lord. I am finding the weather quite pleasant today, yes.'

Vasey shivered in the chilly wind and squinted at Marian suspiciously.

'Too bad Gisborne cannot join us,' he said in an artfully casual tone. 'The poor fellow has had one hell of a hangover all day.'

'Oh. Well, that is his problem. Good day, my lord.' Marian turned on her heel and stormed off to her quarters, suppressing an exasperated sigh and ignoring Vasey's gloating expression.

Much as she would like to deny it, the problem was as much hers as it was Sir Guy's

(2)

Vasey swore under his breath as the sound of a squealing peasant filled his bedroom, and wondered momentarily if he should change the ring tone on his device.

'Yes?' he barked gruffly and regretted it. For all he knew, it might be Jasper, or worse, Prince John himself. These things were proliferating at an alarming speed of late; soon every half-baked noble would have one!

But the voice on the other end was closer to home.

'My love… will you please talk to me?' it drawled.

'GISBORNE!' Vasey roared.

'Oh I am shorry… Can I…shpeak to… Lady Marian?'

'Go to hell, Gisborne' Vasey sighed in exasperation, and suppressed the stab of disappointment. Of course, the endearment had been meant for the leper!

'Please?' his caller persisted, undeterred.

'You can speak to the Lady Marian all you please, but why ask me?' Third time that week. There had to be limits to the man's drinking!

'Really?' Gisborne was beyond the point of coherent thought.

'You can tumble her for all I care!' Vasey snapped.

'Really?' Suddenly Gisborne sounded animated.

'Yes!

'She's not there, ish she?' Getting suspicious, at last.

'OF COURSE she is not here! Who do you think you are calling?

'I am shorry… I thought…' and then his mistake must have dawned on him, for Vasey heard the dull thud of a body rolling off the bed onto the floor, followed by a muffled curse. 'My lord… I appo…apologise!'

'Good night, Gisborne,' Vasey pressed the button and flung the device onto his nightstand. The pestilent thing was more trouble than it was worth.

.