The four outlaws were on a mission. And that mission was a very important one; one that could end in joy or tragedy. Will was in the lead, not his usual flanking position. His jaw was set in a determined line and his eyes were as hard as granite. Nothing could stand in his way.

Beside him and just a little behind came Djaq, her face just as fierce and her hands clenched into tight little balls, veins threatening to pop out. Her mind was a whir with possibilities, any of which she could put into action in a split second. Anyone would be proud to have two such formidable parents protecting and caring for them.

Little John and Allan followed the marching couple, struggling to match their fast, relentless pace. Allan especially was having to double the length and speed of his stride just to maintain the group and not drop behind. Robin and Much were absent from the party as they were checking Nottingham Castle to see if the Sheriff and Gisborne had tricked them and had Ilara there rather than where their informant said, in Locksley.

They reached Locksley in record time even without the aid of horses and set about scouting the area for guards. They quickly worked out that there were many more soldiers posted around various strategic points of the village. Gisborne had created a mini-fortress away from the castle; a home from home, but it was not impregnable as Will's sharp mind soon worked out.

He relayed his ideas to the others not expecting any of them to challenge him. They didn't. Each outlaw nodded with a look of grim determination on their faces. They were taking no prisoners where the safety of the little girl, who'd captured all of their hearts, was concerned. To get Ilara out of their unscathed was their first and foremost priority.

The group set off.

Gisborne frowned. She frowned back. He raised his eyebrow. She raised hers. His lip curled in a twisted smile. She did the same baring her tooth to him. He scratched his head, contemplating what to do next. And she copied him.

"Stop that, child," he snapped.

"Stup tha', shild," the girl mimicked.

"It's irritating and unnerving."

"I-tating and nervin'."

The adult sighed in exasperation. This had been going on for the last hour or so with the toddler imitating everything he said or did. It was becoming increasingly tedious. He wished one of the servant girls would come and take her away but they were all busy preparing dinner. He was responsible for babysitting the infernal child.

It was a challenging job and not one he'd ever experienced in his life, entertaining a child, for he had no siblings whatsoever. He had discovered that despite appearances of being charming and innocent the girl was a little monster. She had ransacked the kitchen for food pilfering apples and bits of bread; stolen some gold from his pocket, no doubt a trick she'd learnt from the vagabonds; upset the hens in the courtyard; dribbled on his boot; cried a lot; had an accident; fallen over and cut her knee; thrown up the apples and bread she'd nicked and finally bitten his nose when he bent down to help her. She had surprisingly sharp teeth for a human.

Right now he wasn't really sure what she was actually doing here. Now they had her the Sheriff showed no interest whatsoever and had waltzed back to the castle with the instructions of 'Do what you wish with her'. What was that supposed to mean? The only reason he'd got her captured in the first place was for the Sheriff to go about his dastardly deeds but now it seemed he'd changed his mind. And if he'd changed his mind what was Gisborne supposed to do now?

He knew without a doubt that the dratted outlaws would be planning on coming and rescuing his mini-prisoner and that there would be fighting and trickery and his men were bound to lose. But he didn't know exactly when that would be and he didn't really want to wait that long with the girl – he couldn't take any more of her games.

Suddenly he was struck with an amusing idea. That would puzzle them. He thought to himself as he bent down and scooped the unsuspecting child into his arms. What else can I really do to her anyway? She jumped at the touch and squirmed slightly but actually didn't seem too averse to settling comfortably into his leather clad chest.

The guard fell at his feet and Will charged headlong through the manor door, his extremely long legs covering the group in a matter of milliseconds. He skidded to a halt in the hallway, momentarily wrong footed. He had stumbled across two maids who both gave him odd looks and then continued on their way, neither passed comment or raised the alarm at his very obvious presence in the house. They didn't even shriek. This unsettled him. Was it a trap?

He began searching the rooms, checking each one meticulously, hoping to see his daughter pop up unhurt and throw her tiny body into his knees. But he didn't see her anywhere, just plain servants going about their daily business as if he hadn't even entered the room.

Swiftly he mounted the staircase and rose, fleet-footed onto the landing. That was where he met Guy who seemed to have just come out of the bath considering his dark hair was damp and his complexion was rosy – an unusual look for his pale skin. The man's eyes widened on slightly for a fraction of a second but then he was the picture of calm, one eyebrow raised portraying an air of casual indifference at the fact there was an armed, angry outlaw in his home.

"Hello, what can I do for you? I thought the usual practice was to knock first before entering and announcing your visit to the Lord of the Manor. Obviously civilised manners elude you outlaws," Guy of Gisborne smiled in an overly friendly manner. Will scowled, he had no time for word games.

"Where is my daughter?" he snarled.

The animalistic fury in the young man's eyes shocked Gisborne for a moment. Because of that it took a moment for the words to sink in and by that time the outlaw looked like he was about ready to pounce and rip out Guy's throat.

This mere boy was the father? He hadn't really been expecting that. He would never have matched the lanky peasant lad to the feisty Saracen medic but then again he didn't really know much about pairings. Obviously the Saracen saw something in the adolescent boy he didn't.

Still, right now, the carpenter was acting like an adult, an adult who was a parent and had lost their child and wanted her back. Gisborne could practically feel the hatred emanating off the young man's skin. He better answer before he felt the sharp point of that axe at his jugular.

"Sorry, I don't have her," he shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "I have no idea where she is."

"Don't lie to me! Even if you don't have her you know where she is! Is she at the castle?!" Will leapt forward and grabbed the man ferociously, "Tell me!"

"No," Guy quivered slightly in the rebel's vice-like grip.

"Then where is she, tell me or I swear I'll drive this dagger through your heart," Will hissed, his voice so low it was barely audible, "And I'm not joking."

"Fine, she's somewhere in Locksley," the Man at Arms finally caved seeing that his life was actually in grave danger from this rampaging outlaw. The hard glint in Will's eyes told him that if he didn't give up the location then he would never say another word. "I don't know where. I gave her to a peasant."

Whoot. Now what? Is Ilara in even mre danger? Review to find out!