Title: Dressed in Black
Word Count: 390
Warnings: Small mention of "size".
Characters: Allan, OFC
Disclaimer: Tiger Aspect and the BBC own the rights to Robin Hood 2006. No copyright infringement is intended. No money is being made.
Summary: Allan decides what to wear as "Sir Guy's Man".
A/N: Written for "Treat Allan Right" on a Live Journal intercomm competition. Most of my "TAR" stories are unbeta-ed, so let me know please about glaring mistakes I may have missed. PLEASE REVIEW!
The washer woman was far older and more decrepit than Allan would have wanted for a person who was to help him with his ablutions, but Guy had insisted that Allan wash and change into some clean clothes before meeting him at the castle. Allan yelped as the woman grabbed for the ties to his pants when he took too long.
"Get'em off an' get in the tub!" she demanded, and Allan hurried to comply. He covered his crotch as best as he could much to the amusement of the old woman.
"It ain't like I ain't seen one o' them before, laddie," she chuckled. "Although, yers is a good sight bigger'n one would expect from such a scrawny lad. Don't suppose you go fer older women," she teased, watching his eyes go big in his face.
Allan backed quickly away from the woman, until she laughed aloud at his discomfort.
"Get in the tub, fer the love of Pete. I'll not touch a child in such a way. I was only teasin'."
Allan raised an eyebrow at the woman's back-handed compliments before frowning and clambering awkwardly into the hot water. He hissed in pain as the woman grabbed a stiff-bristled brush and began scrubbing his back. When she was done, she ordered him out, making him stand still while she rubbed him dry. When she got to his favorite bits, Allan wrestled the towel away from her to avoid her rubbing them off.
"Where's yer clothes?" she asked, looking around for any clean garments.
"The ones I wore 'ere was all I got," Allan responded, looking around Guy's room as well. He strode naked over to a garderobe and peered inside, a huge grin lighting his face as he began picking out clothes.
"Here now, those belong to Sir Guy!" the woman argued.
"And 'e told me to put on clean things. I ain't got none, so I'll 'ave to borrow 'is now, won't I?"
The woman huffed and left him alone, so that she could safely say later that she had not seen what the young man was taking.
Allan chuckled as he donned the clothes; the sheriff wore black, Guy wore black—it was only right that if he was working with them now, he should wear black as well. Besides, he doubted Guy would even notice.