A/N: Wow, a relatively quick update from me this time...I'm suitably impressed...Sorry about the bad chapter, just serves as a bit of a link...

The 'city-is-a-woman' conversation between Robin and Allan was nicked from Guards! Guards! I just thought that was pretty funny.

Chapter Eleven: Gambling and Gisborne

One of the things Djaq enjoyed about the gang was that, eventually, after a particularly hard time in the fighting justice business, one of them would inevitably suggest sloping into an ale house to get thoroughly drunk. And, while she couldn't indulge, it was brilliant watching them make complete fools of themselves. Her favourite time had been when a senseless Allan had proposed to an equally drunk Robin. It had taken some pretty quick thinking on her part to stop them sending Will off for a priest.

And as for the hangovers the next morning…Djaq was not a particularly sadistic or vengeful young woman, but watching five men, all with desperate hangovers, begging for something to put them out of their misery, was brilliant.

Which was why she was finding Robin and Allan's conversation so utterly amusing.

"We…we are going to find that Sheriff out, Allan, and d'you know what we're gonna do? We are gonna….sl-slaughter him!"

"Right."

"Yeah. Because Nott-Nott…ingham is worth fighting for, y'know. This town. This town, Allan is a, is a, is a woman, 'Llan. A woman. Beautiful and ancient. Wort' fightin' for."

"'S woman?" Allan asked. He frowned, making a face, "'S huge, Rob. Got a castle innit. Lots of house 'n shops 'n other stuff."

"Ah ah ah," Robin grinned, waggling an unsteady finger at him, "Never…never said it was a small woman, did I? Be fair, now."

Little John hiccupped.

This was the pride of Sherwood Forest. Djaq ducked her head to hide the smirk appearing on her face. Brilliant, really. Managing to stifle a giggle as Allan began to start a debate with Robin about whose round it was, she turned back to Much, who was glaring very sullenly at his tankard, "What's the matter with you?"

Much shrugged, almost toppling over in the process, "Nothin'. Well. Stuff. Silly stuff," He mumbled, regaining his balance, "Want to go home. Wouldn't even mind not having Bonchurch. Could stay at Locksley. Wouldn't mind."

Oh. Looking anxious, Djaq managed to put out a steady hand to pat Much on the shoulder, "You'll be able to go home soon, Much. Just…as soon as your King Richard returns," She reassured him, privately thinking that with the war in the Holy Lands continuing, their king had little chance of returning.

"That could take years!" Much protested glumly, as if reading her mind, "Years 'n years. What with the war. In t'Holy Lands," Looking even more morose, the young man's lower lip seemed to tremble slightly, "I dream 'bout it. Holy Lands. When 'm asleep. Horrible dreams."

Almost unconsciously, Djaq leaned forward to put an arm around her friend. Opposite her, Little John staggered to his feet and muttered something about a 'breath of fresh air'.

"Well. Not really dreams. Them….them horrible ones. Nightmares. Horrid. D-death and destruction and desert. Lots of it. An' Robin. Bein' stabbed. By Gisborne. 'N not waking up…" His voice faltered, and Much shook his head, his lower lip definitely shaking now, "Need 'nother drink."

The young Saracen reached out and put the tankard out of reach, "No you don't," she said firmly, before setting her arms around Much's shoulders. She'd never felt the need to give any of the other outlaws a hug before – but then none of them had confessed to having dreams about the war in the Holy Land either. And Djaq knew just how torturous the dreams were. Ignoring the words 'mother hen', and letting Much drop his head onto her shoulder, still sniffling bleakly, Djaq shot a glare at Robin, who aptly ignored it. Imagine having such a loyal friend as Much, who even fears for his master in his sleep, and never thanking him, she thought defensively, and made a promise to herself to make more of an effort with Much from now on, "You need to sleep. And to sober up."

Much nodded bleakly into her shoulder, before looking up hopefully, "When the King returns, you'll stay in England with us, won't you?"

Djaq froze. Not betraying a single emotion on her face, she nodded quickly, "Of course," She lied, "I couldn't leave any of you. Now rest; you need it."

And I need it too, Djaq thought grimly as Much's head fell back on her shoulder. Being sober could be hard work.

-0-0-0-

Little John staggered out of the ale house, clutching his head in one hand and his staff with the other. It was high time they started making their way back to the forest. His head throbbing, stomach lurching and legs completely unsteady, the older man was longing to crawl back to the relative peace and quiet of Sherwood Forest, curl up under the stars, in the dark, and wait for the world to stop spinning. Maybe he was just getting too old for this. Whatever reason, the small, sober part of his mind was seriously thinking about marching back into the inn, sling Robin over his shoulder and take him back to Sherwood. It would be an effective, quick method, anyway.

As Little John turned back to enter the inn again, his attention was caught by a couple, half-hidden in the shadows. Half-way through rolling his eyes indulgently, the said eyes widened as John realised he knew the young man. And the girl in his arms.

Well, well. Shaking his head, the man stumbled back into the inn. So, you saw something new every day then.

-0-0-0-

Meanwhile, Robin was having fun. Having successfully brow-beaten Allan into believing that it wasn't his round (even though it was), he was now clutching his tankard, and singing a rather lewd song about an abbess and a sheriff. Surprisingly, Friar Tuck was joining in with extreme gusto.

"All together now!" Robin's voice reached a crescendo, "And then they…"

"Damn you!"

"Whassat?"

"You bloody little cheat!"

Blinking unclearly, Allan turned around and looked in the direction of the noise, "It is Sulien," He announced, "being threatened by a very angry looking crowd."

"Oh good."

Letting go of Much and wincing as his head flopped to the table, Djaq stood on the bench, trying to see over the heads of the growing, angry crowd, "He was playing dice," She murmured, "And his competitors don't seem to be very impressed. Does Sulien ever cheat at dice? Or any other game, for that matter?"

"All the time," Much mumbled into the wood, "He can't be bothered to learn the rules."

"That's not good," Djaq sighed, clambering back down to the ground, "What do we – oh, there you are."

Gasping for breath and looking extremely flustered, Will and Sioned had ran back to their table, Will almost tripping over Friar Tuck in his haste. Shock and anxiety had sobered Sioned up, and she was looking extremely panicky, "What's going on?" She demanded, "Sulien, where is he?"

"He's being lynched over there," Robin mumbled, his blue eyes staring unfocusedly at Will's messy hair and Sioned's rumpled shirt, "Where were you two?"

Sioned flushed, "Sobering up."

"You look in a right state, Sioned," Allan chuckled, swaying on his seat, "All…messy 'n…unkempt. Hair's hanging down too. Not meant to have it down."

"Oh shut up."

"Yeah, Allan, leave her alone," Will instructed, hitting his friend feebly on the shoulder.

The young woman whirled around to glare at the unfortunate young outlaw, "I don't need you sticking up for me either; you've done enough!"

Will made a face, not visibly showing how much the last comment had stung.

Frowning, Djaq looked sharply between the two, her brown eyes calculating. There was definitely more to them than met the eye – Sioned was unusually edgy, even for her, and Will was looking more sullen than usual, glowering resentfully at the floor. Rolling her eyes, wondering when they would ever have a peaceful time here, she made an impatient motion, looking back at Sulien, who was looking more and more hemmed in.

"Will one of you please wake up and see sense?" She pleaded, "Sulien's in trouble, and – Sioned, don't!"

Robin made a fumbled grab for Sioned, but it was too late; slipping past the gang, she'd wriggled through the crowd to stand next to her brother. Djaq was incensed, "What are we going to do?" She yelped, "What are we going to do?"

"Nothing," Will retorted sourly, "Not me, anyway. Apparently I've 'done enough'."

-0-0-0-

It had been a good night. All the goblets had been sold, at a fair price too. Safe and secure in the knowledge that, once again, he had gotten one over on his master, Sulien Thornton had settled down for a friendly game of dice with his numerous business contacts, two pretty girls watching the game going on. Under their solicitous flattering and wide-eyed stare, it had been easy for him to slip into his old habits and start cheating at the game.

Until he'd got caught.

Now his feet were barely touching the ground as one of his opponents, a thickset, beefy man who looked taller than Little John, seized him by the shirt and hauled up upwards.

"You think you could cheat me? Me?!" The giant demanded, to furious shouts of support from all around. The patrons of the Trip to Jerusalem inn enjoyed a fight, "I'll not be bested by a skinny little whelp like you!"

The two young girls had gone. Sulien tried to speak, but could only manage to force a gasp and a choke through the man's fingers, which were steadily closing around his windpipe.

"If you dare even think that I – "

"Sulien!"

It felt as though all oxygen was being cut out from his brain; but through the haze across his eyes, Sulien could just see his sister, wide-eyed and frightened, appear beside him, her long, unbound hair exposing her for the woman she was. He could have sworn if he'd had the breath. Just another reason for more ridicule and abuse. A woman masquerading as a man in such a place as this could only spell trouble. Making an effort to pry the man's fingers away, Sulien shot a furious look at Sioned, anger churning at the pit of his stomach. How could Sioned be so stupid?!

As he glared, the anger quickly subsided, and not for the first time that evening, to be replaced by a strange feeling of guilt. If he hadn't taken the goblets, if he hadn't suggested she come, if he hadn't started that, in hindsight, rather foolish game of dice, if he hadn't, if he hadn't, if he hadn't… A groan escaping from his lips, Sulien made one furious effort to shove the giant away, and this time succeeded; gasping for breath and doubling over, wheezing, as the man's grip loosened. Spluttering and choking, he slumped down next to Sioned, and was gratified to feel an arm slip around his waist and pull himself upwards. Unfortunately, this only gave him the opportunity to see the angry faces as the crowd closed in on them both.

Still massaging his throat, Sulien heard Sioned's uncertain explanations, "Sirs…I'm sure that my brother didn't mean any harm…he was only joking….he'll give the money back, won't you Sulien? I promise, he will…"

There were still several angry mutters rustling through the crowd. Sulien was sure he heard the word 'hoyden' from one man, and bristled, making another effort to get to his feet. When it came to arguments, no-one was sharper than his sister, but years of making excuses for both of them to his father had made Sulien a natural at bluffing his way out of trouble.

"My sister is no hoyden, and I'll thank you to leave her out of this dispute," He snapped, his voice only faltering slightly, "As for the money, I'll let you have that back with no questions asked. I only felt it was a fun game….No need for anyone to get upset about it…"

The crowd grew silent, and Sulien felt the beginnings of a smug grin appear on his face. In the corner, the outlaws listened with the half-interest of a band of drunks, but Djaq, who had been watching the scene carefully, froze, her face suddenly immobile.

"There you are, see? No need for any one to get hurt here," Sulien was so relieved, he didn't notice any of the crowd at his back begin to move away from him, "I'm sure if we all just talk about this, then we can – "

"Well, well, well. A quiet nightcap with some old friends, Sulien?"

The young man felt the blood in his veins begin to freeze with terror. Sioned made a small, panicked sound at the back of her throat, and pressed closer to her brother, as Sulien turned slowly around to see the cold, smirking features of Guy of Gisborne.

-0-0-0-

Robin grimaced as he watched Sulien attempt to lie his way out of the situation, "Not a v-very good liar, issee, Allan?" He slurred, "You could've gotten out of…out of that in ten seconds straight. Or curved. Whichever."

Allan chuckled, "'E's not experienced enough, issee? Not by a mile…" Chuckling again, he craned his neck up, looking at the dark haired, tall man with a sinister smile on his face, "'Ello, who's that?"

Much looked up once, decided that it was too much of an effort to focus his attention on the newcomer, and let his head fall back down on the table, "Something dark," he intoned tiredly, having done enough work for the evening.

"Shapes," The Southerner muttered distractedly, "I need shapes."

"It is shaped," Djaq said slowly, without moving a single muscle, "like Gisborne."

"Gisborne's not here," Will said cheerfully, "Wouldn't wanta see him. He wouldn't be alone in a place like this. He'd be with a patrol. A patrol of heavily-manned, not-drunk soldiers. Catch us bumping into Gisborne on a night like tonight - "

There was a brief moment in which realization did the icy work of a good night's sleep and one of Djaq's hangover remedies. The outlaws looked at each other and, to a man, clustered up towards Little John.

"I'm not being funny," Allan quavered from behind John, "but this…does not look good."

Much, who was nestled even further behind Little John than Allan was, and who was currently squabbling with him for extra shelter, looked petrified, "We should have left someone as sentry."

"Well, that's one mistake we won't be making again in a hurry," Robin said confidently. Then he wished he hadn't. There were several more guards than outlaws, and none of them were recovering from being drunk.

From her vantage point at Little John's shoulder, Djaq could see Gisborne bearing down like a hungry wolf upon the two Thornton siblings, who were looking even more worried than her fellow outlaws. Sioned was fairly trembling as their master smirked down upon them, but at least Sulien was making a fierce effort to remain calm.

"What?" He was insisting, "Nothing wrong with having a drink, is there?"

"Not as such," Gisborne replied coldly, "but so late in the evening…Oh, and Sioned's joined you too. How very thoughtful of you, Sioned, to join your brother in his social occasions."

"Yes, my lord," Sioned mumbled to the ground, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

The man's eyes were unfeeling, but there was a definite tremor of anger in his voice. It was the first time she'd ever heard Gisborne reveal any kind of emotion, Djaq thought blandly as she watched, "I put my trust in you, Sulien," He snarled, "I've let your behavior slide, because of your father's good work in my service, if for nothing else…"

"I told you, I've done nothing wrong!" Sulien protested, but even he sounded unconvinced. Sioned looked ashamed of herself, "Neither me or Sioned have done anything illegal, we've done nothing w-wrong..."

"Don't lie!" Gisborne shouted back, now looking furious, "Your behavior betrays your guilt just as much as any proof…And what are these?"

As Sulien shot a mutinous look at the giant who had been strangling him not ten minutes ago, the man displayed two of the goblets that had been sold to him by Sulien, "He was selling them, my lord. Said they were his by right, but we guessed that he'd taken them. Far too rich for his blood. We paid a hefty sum for them too."

"Is that so?" Gisborne demanded. Sulien didn't answer, too busy shooting a withering look at the man. Sioned, however, nodded, looking close to tears, "So…you betray by trust, steal from my coffers, and then sell them to line your own pockets? Is that it?"

He really is betrayed, Djaq though, almost in disbelief, and shook her head. She knew that Gisborne had few friends, but that he would be so hurt because one of his servants turned against him was too bewildering to think of. Beside her, Much grabbed her arm tensely, almost cutting off her blood circulation as he did so. Trying not to gasp in pain, and remembering that he and Sulien had once worked alongside each other, Djaq shot her friend a quick smile, while taking his hand and gently removing it from her upper arm, squeezing it as she did so. Much attempted an apologetic grin.

Next to him, Allan was grimacing, craning his neck to see over Little John's shoulder, "They're done for."

"Well, so are we if Gisborne turns around and notices us," Friar Tuck muttered blackly, to the accompaniment of several nods from Allan, Little John and Much. Frozen solid next to the friar, Will watched the proceedings with an unreadable expression on his face, not taking his eyes off a trembling Sioned.

"Doesn't look too happy, does he?" Much hissed to Djaq, who was gently massaging her bruised arm, "All it needs is one final push and he – Robin!"

Djaq spun around. Their gallant leader, his eyes back to looking sharp and focused, broke away from the group, creeping up towards Gisborne, who had his back to the outlaw gang. The Saracen woman closed her eyes in disbelief as Robin winked back at them, his typical, smug, I-have-a-chance-to-embarrass-Gisborne-so-I'm-damn-well-going-to-take-it grin dancing all over his face.

Djaq was really starting to get sick of that grin.

"He's mad," Much was muttering quietly, looking exasperated, "He's lost his mind…"

As Robin crept around to where Gisborne was towering over Sulien and Sioned; the night patrol at his side, he could just about see Sioned staring dismally at the floor, a look of total guilt painted completely across her face. Sulien glowered defiantly up at Gisborne, his mouth twisted into a scowl to prevent the man from seeing his teeth chattering. Guy, glaring down coldly at them, didn't notice his presence as the outlaw crept up behind him, but Sulien, looking up for the first time, did. His expression suddenly went into carefully neutral.

"Right," Gisborne said steadily, his hand tightening around his sword hilt, "We'll see what the Sheriff has to say about this…" As Robin opened his mouth to call out, shout, anything to distract the man, Sioned looked up, and her eyes widened. The look in the girl's eyes was enough to give Gisborne a split-second warning, and he spun around, instinctively unsheathing his sword, "What the – "

With no sword in his hands, Robin improvised, kicking Gisborne straight in the stomach. Grunting, the man was knocked backwards, straight into the path of a vengeful looking Sulien, who sprang at him, fists flying. As the two men struggled, Sulien's defiance and sheer terror giving him adrenaline enough to hold his own against the much stronger Gisborne, Robin laughed, withdrawing his own sword almost lazily. His cockiness blinded him enough to hide the guards, who had been frozen in place by the sudden and unexpected appearance of the outlaw, turn as one man to stare at him. One of them was clutching a very heavy, and very raised, morning star.

All traces of exasperation vanished from Much's face, "MASTER!" He yelled out deafeningly, fumbling with his sword and sheath and hauling his shield onto his left arm, "Master, look out!" One more moment, and he too had plunged into the fray.

Allan cursed fluently, watching for a split-second as Robin and Much battled, back to back, their movements not betraying the fact that they'd both been extremely drunk not half an hour ago. Below them, and getting under their feet, Sulien smashed his fist down against Gisborne's cheekbone, and Sioned, weaponless and much smaller than the guard that was bearing down upon her, struggled ineffectively against the sergeant-at-arms, kicking at his kneecaps furiously, "D'you think they really need us? The door's just over there…"

"Allan."

"Alright, alright," Still grumbling, Allan unsheathed his own sword, giving it an experimental flick and smacking it against the helm of an unfortunate guard who had strayed too close, "Yep, still works. And I thought this was going to be a quiet night's drink," He sighed mournfully, wincing as Gisborne gained the upper hand and sank his fist into Sulien's stomach, "Still…"

Little John had lost his patience, and grabbed the back of Allan's collar with the hand not holding his giant quarter staff, "Enough talk – move it!" Flinging the young man into the fight, he leapt in after him, followed by Djaq, Will and Tuck.

There were not only guards involved, Will noticed bitterly as his axe sunk into the backs of the knees of a guard busy attacking Friar Tuck, but the townspeople too; fired up by drink and already spoiling for a fight from Sulien's confrontation. And it was hard to tell who was fighting who; some of them, led by the giant who had caught out Sulien, were fighting against the outlaws, while others were against the guards. And, all of the sudden, the room seemed ten times as small as it used to – ducking from a well-aimed punch, and kicking upwards into the stomach of the man who had served it Will found his back against the wall already. It was full of screaming women, brawling men, and always there were the tables and chairs which were serving as traps to trip you up… It was always so much easier in the forest or the castle – it wasn't half as enclosed as it was now. Cursing under his breath, Will dodged as a flung tankard sailed close to his head, and began fighting with two of the guards in earnest.

Meanwhile, maneuvering himself into the middle of the melee, Allan managed to leap over the still-brawling shapes that were Gisborne and Sulien, allowing himself one moment of pity for the young man. Sure, he was a rat, but he was becoming an extremely battered rat. Gisborne's blows were becoming more and more vicious. Wincing as he saw that the lad's face was now more blue-and-black than flesh coloured, Allan's thoughts turned quickly to Sulien's sister, who was still struggling against the large sergeant-at-arms. He flung an arm around her waist, and jerked her straight out of the man's grip, only to bite back a yelp as the sergeant brought his shield straight down against his head. Stumbling backwards, and ignoring Sioned's abrupt scream, Allan groaned, clutching at his head. Stars danced before his eyes. His neck ached from the full weight of the shield pressing down on it.

"Are you alright?" Sioned demanded shrilly as Robin danced forward to take Allan's place, his curved Saracen blade moving so fast that it could barely be seen. Behind them, Much let out a howl as the guard with the morning star struck, and the spiked ball smashed into his lower arm, causing him to almost drop the shield. The angle of the strike was such that it could not cause any large amount of damage, but his arm still hung limply at his side, shield useless.

"Yeah, fine," The young man mumbled, before grimacing as Sioned flung her arms around his sore neck. The girl seemed utterly petrified. Feeling sorry for the girl, but also vulnerable and loath to leave her weaponless, Allan dragged her to the edge of the fight, his sword weaving in and out, "You?"

As Sioned's only answer was to withdraw from his arms and nod shakily, Allan couldn't help thinking that this wasn't enough. Wrenching the sword from a guard, he pressed it into her hands, causing her eyes to widen, "I've never fought with a sword before!"

"It's easy," Allan retorted, a comforting arm around her shoulders and pulling her down slightly as Little John drove three of the guards backwards, his staff flying about everywhere, "You hold the blunt end, and the pointy end goes in someone else."

"There must be more to it than that!"

"Yes! Remember which end is which!"

Her face twisting, and fairly shaking, Sioned plunged back in, her face whiter than milk. Allan shot in straight after her. After five more minutes of brawling, and stumbling back to stand alongside his best friend, he was relieved to notice that Sioned was, if not mastering the weapon, then at least coping with it enough to keep herself from being skewered. Both of the young men winced as she fell backwards onto the ground, before wincing even more in sympathy as, looking indignant, she swung her leg forward in a semi-circle, catching the guard who had felled her on the backs of the legs and knocking him down to the ground.

Blimey, at least she's getting better, Allan thought gratefully, at the same time as Will looked gleeful, "I taught her that!"

Robin, meanwhile, was gasping for breath. Gisborne had successfully driven Sulien back into a corner, and had now whirled around to face him. Although the fight was still going on, it had subsided, and the fighters; outlaws, guards and townsfolk had backed away from the pair, forming a large circle around them. Each of the outlaws were exhausted, and in the case of Djaq, who had stood too close to Little John and had gotten in the way of his whirling staff, blooded. Seeing a huddle of guards turn their attention to them, Much made a terrific effort and raised his shield unsteadily with his injured arm, and pulled her back behind the shield with his good arm. Senses hazy and head throbbing, Djaq complied without a murmur of complaint, almost fainting against him as she did so.

Brandishing his sword, Robin glowered blackly at Gisborne, his usual good humour vaporised by the heat of battle. As long as the man stayed at sword's length, that was fine by him, "Brawling in taverns – that's not like you Gisborne."

"You're interfering with the course of justice, Hood," Gisborne spat. Although having emerged the victor from his tussle with Sulien, the young man had put up a strong fight, and the evidence was plain to see on his body. Bent slightly, bruised and bloody, the man cut an injured figure, "Even a bleeding heart like you knows that they are guilty of theft with no excuse. And they have no need of the coin," He made a vague motion at the outlaws, "Call your men off; this doesn't concern you."

"I don't think so," The outlaw retorted, holding Gisborne at bay with his sword. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sulien, battered and bruised, rejoin his sister, "Sulien; get Sioned out of the inn and go."

"But Robin – "

"Now!" He didn't have enough patience to deal with Sulien right now; it was his fault that they were in this mess in the first place. Sioned tugged at Sulien's sleeve, and the pair of them disappeared, swiftly, out of the door.

Clutching the sword that Allan had given her, Sioned was hot on Sulien's heels as he pelted out of the door, heading straight for the stables. Watching as her brother hauled himself onto the horse that they'd both ridden on, before collapsing against the mare's neck, the young woman looked around wildly for any more guards that would hinder their escape, before starting slightly. She frowned, approaching the horse she'd noticed carefully.

"Is that Cylu?" Sulien demanded from his perch on their own horse.

"I think so," Sioned murmured, patting down the horse's black hide soothingly. Another quick glance around them, and she ran around to the stallion's side, setting her foot in the stirrup and swinging herself up without a pause. Cylu, used to Sioned by now, didn't complain.

Sulien's eyes fairly popped out of their sockets, "You're stealing Lord Gisborne's horse?" He hissed, his voice several octaves too high, "And you say I'm rash?"

The young woman made a face, unfettering the horse as she did so, "He's a good horse," She mumbled defensively, gripping the reigns tightly, "Come on, let's get out of here before Gisborne comes out."

"And decides he wants his horse back."

-0-0-0-

Robin was not feeling so light-hearted. Swinging his sword again, only to have it smash against Gisborne's own, he was feeling very downhearted. Neither men were loosing, but by the same analysis, neither were winning.

If he feels half as bad as I do, then I'd admit, he's a fair fighter; Robin thought sullenly. Then Gisborne's foot came up and caught him in the kneecap, and all charitable thoughts vanished from his mind as Gisborne drove him backwards relentlessly, his sword heavy and merciless. Robin felt like cursing, if he had enough breath in his body to do so.

Almost about to collapse, his only support being the wall that Gisborne had shoved him up against, Robin glowered defiantly back at the Sheriff's lieutenant, who smirked back, "What's the matter Hood?" He asked mockingly, pressing his sword up to rest against Robin's throat, "Not enough breath in your body for a smart comment?"

Before he could answer, Gisborne let out a yell, clutching at his throat. Taking advantage of the fact that everyone had stopped fighting to watch the pair, Allan had sprung forward, locking his arm around Gisborne's neck. As soon as Gisborne was knocked off balance enough to let Robin dodge out of the sword's way, Allan's dagger came up against Gisborne's own throat.

"Alright gents," The young man announced to the guards, in his jovial, carrying tone, while Robin gasped for breath, and Friar Tuck sprung forward to support the young man, "if you would all like to take a few steps backwards, please, and refrain from killing anyone else, then I won't have to slit your lieutenant's throat now, will I?"

"Do as he says," Gisborne muttered sourly.

"Wise decision, Gisborne," Robin replied, massaging his throat, "Much….Djaq, John, to me. You will call your men off and let us go free, is that clear?"

The furious look at Gisborne shot Robin indicated that it was.

As soon as they were out of the door, Allan gave a whoop, punching the air, "Did you see that?! Did you see that? The smarmy git's face, just when he thought he had us…"

"Yeah, Allan, we saw," Will muttered indulgently as he mounted his horse, but grinning all the same.

Robin chuckled, his hand still at his throat, "Good work, everyone. I know that wasn't entirely expected, but all the same, well done. And we managed to find out something," He exchanged glum looks with Little John, who he knew felt them same about their lack of information, "No matter how small. All in all, I say it's about time we called it a night – Much, what's wrong?"

Stumbling under the weight of Djaq's limp body, Much attempted a grin, "She's just fainted. It's alright, I can look after her!" He added hastily, as Friar Tuck came forward, "I just….give me a few moments, that's all," The outlaw bit his lip as Djaq's body came into contact with his injured arm, biting back a yelp.

Allan chuckled, settling into his own saddle. Not a bad night, as it turned out. And he'd gotten one over on that Gisborne…He beamed widely looking thoroughly self-satisfied, and, if truth be known, a little smug. Everything was going brilliantly.

He turned in his saddle, only to see Will glowering at him, "Allan," He demanded sharply, "Why were you hugging Sioned in the middle of all the fighting?"

Allan gulped. Oops.

Good grief...writing action scenes really takes it out of you. I never know where to put everyone...

Gah, have to go out, so have no time to thank all me lovely reviewers. Suffice it to say that you all make my day, and I love you all! Which means that, to make me even more chipper, you have to leave more reviews. Hint hint.

Until next time, my friends...