The feather went up. The feather went down. It rested on his face. He let his breath out in a short puff, and the process started again. He sat up, no longer able to entertain himself. No one else at camp was impatiently playing with goose down, but the mood was the same across the board.

"I'm bored," he grumbled, loud enough so that only Much could hear. As expected, Much gave a half smile and chuckled.

"Join the club," he replied. That wasn't what Robin wanted to hear. He rolled on to his stomach, sighing loudly, letting loose a groan of pure boredom. Djaq looked up from the book that she'd managed to get on their last trip to Locksley, startled by her leader's sudden outburst. Little John also looked over, raising an eyebrow. It was the look that he reserved for when the gang was acting particularly childishly. Generally, he used it for Robin and Morgan.

"We've not had a proper fight with the Sheriff in ages!" Robin suddenly said, sitting up. "And there haven't been any villagers in danger. And once you've robbed one convoy, you've robbed them all." Everyone was staring at him now, perplexed. They'd never seen Robin this restless. Much personally blamed it on Marian's recent return to the castle.

"We could play cards," Will suggested. Robin shook his head.

"We always play cards," he pointed out. Will shrugged, returning to his whittling.

"Dominoes?" Much threw out.

"Much, do I look like I'm five?" Robin asked sarcastically.

"You're certainly acting like it," Much muttered, stoking the fire. Before Robin could shoot back a retort, the entrance to camp opened, and Morgan stepped inside, throwing her hood back.

"Hollis sends his love, though I think that he'd sooner put his hand in a fireplace than word it like that," she giggled, pulling off her coat, unwrapping the bandages that she had started wrapping around her hands to keep out the cold. "I miss anything?"

"Robin's bored," Little John said flatly.

"Join the club," Morgan laughed, throwing her things up on her loft.

"That's what I said!" Much agreed, shooting Robin a meaningful look, only to find that he looked deep in thought, his lips splitting into that familiar grin that only meant trouble.

"That is a brilliant idea," Robin commended, staring at Morgan, who paused staring back in bewilderment.

"Not being funny, but I haven't given an idea," she muttered. Robin's grin got slightly more smug as he stood.

"But you have! It's a new game!" he declared. "You tell a truth, maybe an embarrassing one, or you have to perform a task to get out of it!" Robin noticed the mixed reaction to his proposed game. Much had suddenly busied himself with mending a shirt. Will had stopped whittling, but he hadn't looked up. Djaq peeked over the top of her book. Little John looked on with reserved interest. Morgan took a moment to make sure she'd worked it all out correctly before a look of excitement brightened her eyes.

"Alright then, spill or thrill?" she asked, pointing at Robin.

"Spill or thrill?" he asked, sniggering.

"It rhymes," Morgan replied flatly. "Just pick one." Robin mulled it over, deciding to start it safe.

"Spill," he decided. Now, it was Morgan's turn to think.

"What was the most horrifyingly drunken thing you've ever done?" She asked. Robin felt the expectant stares of everyone in the gang.

"Once, when we were in the Holy Lands, we were sitting around a campfire, drinking. We got, as some might say, horrifyingly drunk, and stripped down to our skivvies and ran through the camp with our shirts bunched up on our heads," he admitted grandly. Much laughed, remembering the occasion well. He hadn't partaken in any drink, and so he had had the pleasure of watching the King's private guard parading around like idiots. His laughter drew Robin's attention to his best friend, and Much knew that he was done for. The gang, having seen how Robin's game worked, sat forward, waiting.

"Spill or thrill?" Robin asked Much, who took a deep breath.

"Thrill," he answered daringly.


"This is stupid," Much grumbled, reaching for the blindfold. Robin slapped his hand.

"You have to wear it for the rest of the night; you're the one who picked thrill," Djaq pointed out, though she had to admit that Robin's dare didn't really make any sense.

"Well, now it's my turn," Much said, putting his hand out until he was touching someone. "You, spill or thrill."

"Thrill. And get your hand off of my face," Morgan replied. Much nodded.

"Take a walk," he said simply. He heard Morgan's giggles.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"Through the woods, by yourself. No torch," he added. Morgan's giggles died off.

"But, Much! It's a new moon! It's pitch black out there," she explained.

"I know. What's wrong, Morgan? Chicken?" Much began to cluck loudly, flapping his arms. Morgan glanced around at the rest of the group, defiantly adjusting her shirt and throwing on her coat.

"Not a problem!" she said with bravado, though there was a slight shake to her voice.


"Let me in! Let me in! Let me in!" Morgan repeated, frantically pounding on the door of the camp. "There's something out here!" The door to camp rose and she darted inside, panting as if she just ran a great distance. She was covered in dirt, and there was a brilliant bruise forming on her forehead.

"Something out there, huh?" Robin asked, holding back laughter, a task which became increasingly difficult as Morgan nodded fervently.

"It was dark, and I heard this sort of noise. Like… like a growling, moaning sound," she explained. "I started to run, but I could hear the thing following me, and then I ran into a tree, and... you don't suppose that the woods are haunted, do you?" she asked seriously. It was too much. Robin burst into gales of laughter, as did the rest of the camp. Morgan glanced around, still panting from her mad dash through the woods.

"What? What's so funny? I swear; I heard something!" She bristled as the growling, moaning sound tore through the camp. "There! There it is!"

"Yeah, we know," Much laughed. "Show yourself, ghost of Sherwood. Morgan's complexion went from pale to flushed as Will stepped into the camp, making the noise that had frightened her in the dark.

"Oh, very funny," she grumbled. Will laughed, clapping her on the shoulder.

"Cheer up, Morgan. It was only a joke," he smiled. Surprisingly, Morgan smiled back at him, but the glint in her eyes was a bit scary.

"Spill or thrill, Will?" she asked. Will weighed his options. If he picked spill, Morgan could make him reveal details about his honey-gathering expeditions with Djaq. He certainly couldn't have that.

"Thrill," he chose, though he didn't sound all to certain.

"Djaq, do we still have that chest of dresses that we lifted last week?" Morgan asked, crossing her arms over her chest.


"You look lovely, Will," Morgan teased. Will looked down at the sunset orange of the dress that he was wearing. He suspected that Morgan had picked the frilliest, most girly looking of all the dresses, a fact confirmed by her entertained giggles. Will carried on like a real trooper, continuing the game.

"Little John? Spill or thrill?" he asked. Little John knew what to say immediately. He knew that he didn't want to wear a blindfold, or walk through a pitch black forest, or wear a dress.

"Spill," he said gruffly. Will sat in thought for a moment, trying to think of something good. The outlaws didn't keep too many secrets from each other, so he wasn't really sure what to ask. Still, his mind trailed back to earlier in the week, causing him to smile.

"Did you eat that rabbit earlier this week?" Will asked. Much had been cooking, and someone had sprung the trap. The whole gang had run to investigate, only to find that Morgan had accidentally tripped the trap. By the time they'd pulled her down and made it back to camp, the rabbit was gone. Little John smiled sheepishly.

"I did," he admitted, jerking his head at Morgan, "She helped." Morgan smiled like a small child, caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Come on, guys. I know where our own traps are. Give me a little credit," she muttered.

"I knew it!" Much proclaimed.

"Djaq, chose one," Little John instructed.

"Spill," she said levelly. Little John rubbed his chin.

"When you first joined the group, how did Will know that you were a girl?" he asked. He'd always wondered about it, and the way that Robin and Much leaned forward showed that they had, too. Djaq blushed a little.

"He walked in on me while I was washing," she confessed.

"Will, you rogue," Much joked, playfully punching in the direction that he thought Will was in.

"Ow! Much, that was me arm!" Morgan yelped, hitting Much back.

"Sorry," Much apologized, "blindfold, remember?"

"Robin," Djaq pushed forward, ignoring the small sibling squabble that was blossoming between Much and Morgan. "Spill or thrill?"

"Thrill," Robin answered quickly.

"Sing us a song," Djaq dared. Robin stared. "Well, I thought, since you were always making fun of Much's voice, that you had a nice voice of your own." Robin glanced at Much for assistance, but his friend was currently involved in something of a slap fight with Morgan, who, given the fact that Much was blindfolded, was winning. Still, as it always was with Much, he seemed to sense Robin's gaze. He looked over at where he guessed Robin was, shaking his head.

"Don't look at me, Master. Besides, you came up with the game." Robin glanced back at Djaq, sighing heavily before taking in a deep breath.


Allan didn't know what he was doing. If he walked into the camp, the lads were likely to beat him within an inch of his life. Still, the Sheriff was moving a large shipment of gold, and if he waited for Morgan to come see him, they'd miss it.

As he neared the camp, his torch held aloft, he could've sworn that there was singing. It didn't sound half-bad, actually. Allan reached around the side of the tree, pulling the lever that opened the camp. He stared at the sight before him. Much was blindfolded, Morgan looked like she'd been in a fight with a bear, Robin was singing quite loudly, and Will was wearing… Allan rubbed his eyes. A dress? Morgan spotted him first, standing and brushing herself off.

"Hallo, Allan!" she greeted. Robin clamped his mouth shut immediately, turning to face the former-outlaw. Despite the fact that they didn't consider him the scum of the earth anymore, the gang stared uneasily at their ex-comrade. Morgan felt the tension and walked out of camp, taking Allan by the arm and closing the camp door behind her.

"Why was Will wearing a dress?" Allan asked, completely confused.

"We were playing a game; he picked 'thrill.'" Morgan explained. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, the Sheriff just sent out a huge convoy, trying to slip it past you lot in the dark," Allan informed, "What kind of game, exactly?"

"Robin made it up. If you pick 'spill,' you have to tell a truth. If you pick 'thrill,' you have to do a dare," Morgan laughed. "Now, where's this convoy heading?"

"It's just off of the Great North Road," Allan answered. "Well, if that's how it goes, why don't you just call the game 'Truth or Dare'?" Morgan laughed.

"Don't be dumb, Allan. Who's going to play a game called 'Truth or Dare'?"


Teehee! This was a request from Stripysockz, and I apologize that it's not one of my stronger stories. Truthfully, I've never played a successful game of Truth or Dare, and all of the dares in this story were pulled from real-life Truth or Dare games. Yeah, I lead a terrifying life. XD

I suppose that my favorite bit was Will in the dress. And Allan's reaction to aforementioned dress. Also, DrunkStreaker!Robin, even though it was only a flashback.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Please, review!