Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction. That means I own none of the rights to the film The Patriot. But you already know that.
For your reading pleasure, the tale of a time traveler who makes no concessions to Tavington's world...
Episode 2: MarySue in Uniform
Megan swaggered past the Green Dragoon tents, pleased at how the tight breeches showed off her legs. She had jumped at the chance to go back in time for hour to meet that gorgeous hunk, Colonel William Tavington, but she couldn't be bothered with stupid skirts.
The frumpy women who did totally boring things like laundry and cooking whispered as she went past.
"Is that a woman?"
"It must be! Look at the paint on her face!"
"Unnatural, I call it! The Lord says it's an abomination!"
Megan shrugged. Dumbass. You couldn't pay attention to what the Bible said all the time, or you wouldn't be able to eat bacon or shrimp either. Modern people knew how to pick and choose the relevant bits and trash the rest.
Omigod! Omigod There he was! He was standing there in his gorgeousness, talking to some fat girl in a big puffy dress. Megan strolled past, and gave him a sultry look. He frowned, and his eyes followed her.
Megan ran off to the edge of the woods, skipping past a wagon. She heard footsteps following her, and smoothed her hair back. Then she held her hand up to her mouth, and checked her breath. Everything was cool.
A strong hand grabbed her shoulder, and spun her around. Omigod, he's so alpha male!
"Who are you?"
She shivered at the fierce look in those bright, bright eyes. Oooh! I'm melting!
She tried to be cool, but she couldn't stop giggling. "I'm Megan Tardowsky." Oh, shit, I was going to say 'Trinity Valentine!'
He frowned again, at her odd name, and then asked. "What are you doing in my camp? You seemed very interested in our dispositions."
What is he talking about? His disposition?
She tried to answer in a low, sexy voice. "Well, I've heard so much about the Green Dragoons." She batted her eyes. "I just had to see them for myself."
His hand on her shoulder gripped her so hard it hurt. "I think you're a spy!" He yanked her out of the tree cover, and started pulling her along with him.
"No way!" she squawked. "I am so not a spy, I just wanted to get a good look at you. I think you're totally hot!"
He stopped, and looked at her again, puzzled.
"I'm what?"
"Attractive," Megan corrected herself. "Very, very attractive. Like, I've been thinking about you for a long time."
He smirked at her. "I see. A whore." He pulled her back toward the woods, pushed her up against a tree, and started unbuttoning his breeches. "How much, then?"
Whoa! "I'm not a -whore!" she protested. "How can you think that? I just wanted to meet you!"
He stopped unbuttoning, and eyed her with disgust. "So you dress like a molly and parade about my camp? What kind of creature are you?"
"I hate skirts!" she said, with spirit. "They're so -dorky!"
He looked at her blankly. Then he said, "Get out of my camp, and don't come back." He turned, and walked away.
"Hey! Wait!" she yelled, running after him. "I'm talking to you!"
She grabbed his arm, and he pushed her away roughly.
She watched his retreating back, mad as hell, and kicked at the ground. "Jerk!"
She sulked for awhile.
That didn't go the way I planned.
She pulled up her sleeve and checked her watch. I can't go back to my time for half an hour! What am I going to do?
She was aware of an uncomfortable ache, and then a tell-tale trickle. Oh shit! My period! It's not due for three days!
She walked quickly toward a group of woman scrubbing clothes. "Hi! Can I borrow a Tampax off one of you guys?"
They stared at her. She tried again. Stupid old-time women. "My period started, and I need a Tampax, or a Kotex, or a Playtex." Her voice rose, as she got more annoyed. "Or whatever you guys use."
They stared, and looked at each other. One of the women looked at her breeches. "You're bleeding, girl."
"Yes, I know!" Megan rolled her eyes. God, these people were dumb! "I need something to protect my pants with!"
The woman got up, uncertainly. "I have some rags you could use." She pulled some yellowed bits of cloth from a box. She suggested, "Maybe you could pin your shirt between your legs?"
Maybe you could pin your brain between your ears! The rags really were rags, and had stains on them. Gross!
"Thanks!" she said, sarcastically. "Now where's the bathroom?"
More stares. Megan tried speaking slowly and loudly, the way you did with retards. "The BATHROOM, THE LADIES' ROOM—THE TOILET!"
One of the old women didn't seem to have all her teeth. Megan could hardly stand to look at her. The old woman mumbled, pointing, "The latrine's over there."
Megan stamped away. What a total waste of space.
There was no bathroom, either, just a long trench in the ground, and soldiers squatting there with their pasty-white butts showing. It was absolutely the nastiest thing Megan had ever seen, so she turned and ran off to the woods again. She had to unbutton the breeches, and start stuffing in the disgusting rags. She knew she was making bulges in her pants, but she didn't care. All she wanted was to get out of this lame place and get home. She'd dump the clothes, have a shower, and then hang out.
Somebody was walking around in the woods, and Megan hurried with the pants so she wouldn't end up mooning the whole world. She finished, and pulled down her jacket, and turned toward the footsteps.
A guy in ragged clothes was hiding behind a tree, pointing his gun at her.
"Wait!" she yelled. "I'm on your side!"
She heard a "pop" and was knocked down.
She tried to get up, but couldn't. She felt weak all of a sudden, and her jacket was wet.
What's the matter with me? she wondered.
Then it started to hurt, and she felt lightheaded, like she was rushing through the air.
"No fair!" she croaked. "No fair!"
She tried to call for help, but she was too sleepy……