Dreams

A.N: Harhar, dreams much?


He was dressed in a white shirt. A flowing white shirt. Ruffled, with an open collar and cuffs. It reminded him of a shirt a pirate would wear. Loose fitting but looked right in all the right ways. And the things on his legs...What were they - breeches? Black, tight, he was surprised he didn't squeak every time he tried to move. The boots were desgined to be fashionable and practicale. Also in black. He felt like he looked like a rejected noble man for an American made-movie about medieval England.

Surely he had to be dreaming.

Whatever questions he had about what was going on they weren't going to be answered by his twin as he burst into the room - another 'medieval England' set - wearing a monk/friar robe.

"Theo!?"

Theodore grinned and trotted over to his brother. "Great Nathanael Hood!" he exclaimed. "Your beloved has been captured by the evil Sheriff!"

"Oh God..."

"Don't blaspheme before a man of God."

Nat rolled his eyes at his twin. "Robin Hood isn't related to Friar Tuck."

"Who now?"

"I take it my beloved is Evander?"

Theo broke out in a huge grin "Yes! Maid Manly-Evander has been kidnapped, and in order for him to gain his freedom you must hand yourself over to the Sheriff of Constanceham."

Placing a hand on his face in dismay, Nat allowed everything to sink in. This simply had to be a dream. Evander had once mentioned dreaming that he was in Wonderland. Some great cosmic force seemed to enjoy giving poor Evander the lead female roles.

So, he was Robin Hood, and was about to embark on saving his Maid Marian from the evil Sheriff of Nottingham.

Or - he was Nathanael Hood, and was about to embark on a hilarious jounrey to save his Maid "Manly"-Evander from the evil Sheriff of Constanceham.

Surely his unconcious couldn't have though of something as ridiculous as this?

Especially Theodore as Friar Tuck.

Nat quickly decided that it was perhaps for the best that he see the dream through.

"Right then, Friar Theo, summon my men and we shall rescue my love the way they do in the movies! Bring me my bow and arrows!"

"Do I look like your lap dog?"

Another rolling of his eyes, and Nat swept past his twin, leaving the room. Like a dream he was in a forest surrounded by various men dressed in the typical 'poor man of the medieval' outfits. Looking over them all, he tried to spot which of them he recognised as people from his waking world. And whom may end up taking the role of Little John.

"Am I bollocks being 'little'" announced Tetsu, skulking up to the front line in a finely designed outfit that simply screamed 'I am above these lowly peasants'. Oh, and 'I'm gayer than a drag queen on gay parade with rainbows on'.

"Little Tetsu?" Nat asked.

"If you ask me to do anything that involves me getting dirty, I'm stuffing this bow so far up your arse you'll shoot arrows through your mouth." He held up the long bow for emphasis, then stormed off, grumbling about height and Cheshire Cats.

Nat turned to his brother who was snickering as he stood beside him. "Dare I ask who the Sherrif of Constanceham is? Or even the Prince?"

"Sheriff Alastar and Prince David?" Theo answered, in a bright a cheery way.

"Oh God..."

"What did I tell you about blasphemy?"

Nat narrowed his eyes at Theo. "Firstly; you're encouraging a gay relationship. Secondly; I don't care. This is my dream and I'll blaspheme as much as I bloody well want to. Now point me in the direction of the castle and I'll go and rescue Evander so that I can wake up from this crazy dream." Nat was fuming by now, glaring at his brother. "And if you say I have to fight any damn monsters on the way once I wake up I'm going to tell Lila that it was you that stole her arm and left it in Alfredo's mop bucket."

Friar Theo just looked confused and pointed Nat in the direction of the castle he was to head for. "I'll - uhm - get your horse."

"Bollocks."

It seemed that his dream had at least catered for the fact he was to ride a horse. The dream, however, wasn't finished toying with him. The moat for the castle where Evander was being held (he was peering out through the window of the tallest tower and combing his long brown hair) was as wide as an ocean.

"I can't catch a break, can I?" Nat asked his conciousness. "Lets invert this crazy dream into a nightmare. for the hydrophobic."

"At least you're not a horse." replied Jojo the mohawked mare. "I need a cigarette."

Climbing down from the saddle, Nat cautiously approached the edge of the moat where the drawbridge would be if it were there. He could feel his heartbeat racing in his chest as he looked at the swirling, dark waters before him. Looking to the castle, he saw guards standing on the battlements.

"Hey, you up there! Mind lending me a hand?"

"I've only got two, I can't lend them 'cus I need them!" one yelled down.

"Zak, be nice to the handsome theif," said the blond to the brunet. He had a pair of white feathered wings attached to his armor.

"My armor is itchy," said the first. "I can't scratch my butt through this metal, and I think I need to pee."

"Are you two even paying attention to me?" Nat called up to the pair who seemed engaged in their own conversation. He recognised their voices, but with the helmets on their heads he was a little unsure if it was the idiot pair he believed them to be.

A third wandered up and removed their helmet. More importantly - her helmet.

"Martha!" Nat yelled, waving his hand. "Convince those two idiots to lower the drawbridge for me!"

Lake and Zak turned to look down at Nat and waved.

"Your mother was a fish and your father ate elderberries!" Zak yelled down with the worst French accent in all of known history.

"I don't think that's how it goes," Lake said.

Martha leaned against the castle wall. "Why should we let you in, Nathanael Hood?" she asked, grinning wickedly. "Why not just swim the moat?"

"Yeah!" chorused the pair of males either side of her. Zak waved his wooden sword in the air for addded effect. "Swim the moat!"

"I'm hydrophobic!" Nat admitted. "I can't swim it"

"Well that's a good enough answer for me." And Martha grabbed Zak and Lake by the wrist and dragged them off. A few moments later the drawbridge lowered and Nat raced across it. As he dashed past the three guards, he heard Zak asking Martha what a "hydromobic" was. Heading for where he saw Evander, he reached the main hall only to be stopped by a swift kick to the back of the head. Next thing he knew he was being dragged by the ankle towards the throne.

"Thank you, my assassins," said a voice, and Nat's ankle was dropped. Opening his eyes, he looked up at the back's of two males. A blond and a brunet with hair so dark it was almost black. He heard one cough and then say "It was Florian who captured him, my Lord."

"Because you have the lung capacity of a five year old asthamatic," muttered the blond as the pair walked away. "Still think you could have let me kill him."

Forcing himself to sit up, Nat looked back to where the pair were leaving, and then to the throne where Professor Malone sat wearing a crown tilted to one side. Evander sat beside him in a white dress looking none-to-happy about the whole situation. Standing on David's other side was Professor Hughes.

"Nathanael Hood," David began. "You prank the rich to amuse the poor. You have been found guilty of several counts of Pranking and one count of stealing Alfredo's mop. In order to pay for your crimes I have devised the perfect punishment."

Nat wondered if dying would also result in him waking up. "My punishment?"

"Cookies!" announced david happily and bounced out of his throne and over to Nat with a plateful of cookies.

At which point Nat woke up and fell out of bed.