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smallfandomflshTitle: 5 Times Plunkett kept a secret from MacLeane
Fandom: Plunkett & MacLeane
Genre: pre-slash, maybe.
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
noctuabunda.
Beta: none, sadly.
Rating: PG-13.
Word count: 849.
Spoilers: Through the whole movie.
Summary: Plunkett isn't always completely honest with Macleane.
Disclaimer: Neither the boys nor the original story are mine; I'm not making or intending to make any profit from this.
Notes: All the dialogue is directly from the movie.
#1
“While you were fucking, I was listening.”
“Yes, well, there you are, you see?”
“No, no. I mean I was listening to your friends.”
But this was only partly true. Of course he had meant listening to Macleane's friends, but he had listened to Macleane, too, waiting for him to finally lose his composure, to stop reciting bad metaphors and to let Will hear him moan for real.
He had closed his eyes and listened in some kind of trance while another part of his brain carefully sorted through the information Macleane's inmates were giving him. And if his hand had strayed from the food on the table downwards to his cock for a second, he was sure no one had taken notice of it.
So Will swallowed down the memory and went on: “See, a wise man might get rich by listening – in the right places.”
#2
“Do you think this waistcoat looks well with these breeches?”
Damn it! Will had been going through the list of potential victims, totally engrossed in plans and plots and dreams of America when James asked this question.
Will stared at him through the mirror: James was the perfect picture of a man; he had everything Will lacked: Beauty, stature and a certain... charisma was probably the best word for it. Together with his attitude, these traits made it hard to look away whenever he entered a room.
“Absolutely.” Dear God, he sounded breathless. Because of this? Because of a pretty boy in pretty clothes? Quickly, he went on: “Enough information to keep us going for months.”
But James was not so easily brought off his path. “And I was thinking the blue silk coat as well, yeah?”
Will pictured it in his mind for a second. “Exactly.” The blue coat, James' blue eyes, a clear blue sky above a dark blue see on the way to America... blue, blue, blue, it was all he could see, all he could feel, his hopes and dreams mixing with James' gaze in the mirror.
“And remember... this is work, not pleasure.”
This time, he wasn't talking to James.
#3
“You'll end up on the wrong end of a Tyburn knot if you can't control your lust!”
“My love, Plunkett, love!”
“We're supposed to be chasing money, not women.”
“Have you never been in love, Plunkett?”
He answered almost before James had even finished his question: “No. Never, alright?” And he wasn't thinking of Martin right then, or of James and the way he'd smiled when he'd shot the pheasant; so careless and happy and oh so painfully young. Instead, Will inspected his gun one more time.
#4
“So where did you learn to be a nurse?”
The question startled him. A moment ago, James had hardly been conscious, and now this.
“Wha-?”
“Who was she?” She. Of course. With James, it always had to be about women. Will considered the young man for a moment, then he said: “Couple of years ago, I had a shop. Apothecary stuff. Lost it. Ended up on the streets. And Mary got sick and died.”
As James quietly said sorry, Will made his own silent apologies to Martin. There was no way he could've saved him back then, and over the years, he had learned to live with it. But denying him like that... all of a sudden, Will felt an ugly mixture of shame and sadness was over him. He had to get out of here.
#5
“You all right?”
“Yeah.” He couldn't look at James now, the lie would show on his face.
“What is it?”
“Unfinished business.” He couldn't look at James now, he might know this was not the whole truth. They had no use for him now, did they? There was no future to hold onto anymore.
“Don't be silly. We're almost away!”
“I'll catch you up.” He couldn't look at James now, or he might break his promise to Rob.
“Go.”
...and one time he couldn't
So this was it.
He had done what had to be done, as always.
Chance was dead, James and Rebecca were safe and Rochester would land on his feet, Will was sure of it. That was all a man in his position could ask for, right?
Still, he was scared shitless. He'd once seen a man shot in the head who stayed alive for almost another day, gargling and twitching, in pure agony. He didn't want to die like that.
A sudden call, and a couple of shots disrupted his thoughts, and a moment later, he realized that not only his captors were dead, but James and Rebecca had come back for him. He had told them to go, he'd freed them of any obligations, but they had come back just for him.
And James had fired well.
For once, all his emotions were clearly to be seen on his face. And for once, he couldn't care less.
Fandom: Plunkett & MacLeane
Genre: pre-slash, maybe.
Author:
noctuabunda.Beta: none, sadly.
Rating: PG-13.
Word count: 849.
Spoilers: Through the whole movie.
Summary: Plunkett isn't always completely honest with Macleane.
Disclaimer: Neither the boys nor the original story are mine; I'm not making or intending to make any profit from this.
Notes: All the dialogue is directly from the movie.
#1
“While you were fucking, I was listening.”
“Yes, well, there you are, you see?”
“No, no. I mean I was listening to your friends.”
But this was only partly true. Of course he had meant listening to Macleane's friends, but he had listened to Macleane, too, waiting for him to finally lose his composure, to stop reciting bad metaphors and to let Will hear him moan for real.
He had closed his eyes and listened in some kind of trance while another part of his brain carefully sorted through the information Macleane's inmates were giving him. And if his hand had strayed from the food on the table downwards to his cock for a second, he was sure no one had taken notice of it.
So Will swallowed down the memory and went on: “See, a wise man might get rich by listening – in the right places.”
#2
“Do you think this waistcoat looks well with these breeches?”
Damn it! Will had been going through the list of potential victims, totally engrossed in plans and plots and dreams of America when James asked this question.
Will stared at him through the mirror: James was the perfect picture of a man; he had everything Will lacked: Beauty, stature and a certain... charisma was probably the best word for it. Together with his attitude, these traits made it hard to look away whenever he entered a room.
“Absolutely.” Dear God, he sounded breathless. Because of this? Because of a pretty boy in pretty clothes? Quickly, he went on: “Enough information to keep us going for months.”
But James was not so easily brought off his path. “And I was thinking the blue silk coat as well, yeah?”
Will pictured it in his mind for a second. “Exactly.” The blue coat, James' blue eyes, a clear blue sky above a dark blue see on the way to America... blue, blue, blue, it was all he could see, all he could feel, his hopes and dreams mixing with James' gaze in the mirror.
“And remember... this is work, not pleasure.”
This time, he wasn't talking to James.
#3
“You'll end up on the wrong end of a Tyburn knot if you can't control your lust!”
“My love, Plunkett, love!”
“We're supposed to be chasing money, not women.”
“Have you never been in love, Plunkett?”
He answered almost before James had even finished his question: “No. Never, alright?” And he wasn't thinking of Martin right then, or of James and the way he'd smiled when he'd shot the pheasant; so careless and happy and oh so painfully young. Instead, Will inspected his gun one more time.
#4
“So where did you learn to be a nurse?”
The question startled him. A moment ago, James had hardly been conscious, and now this.
“Wha-?”
“Who was she?” She. Of course. With James, it always had to be about women. Will considered the young man for a moment, then he said: “Couple of years ago, I had a shop. Apothecary stuff. Lost it. Ended up on the streets. And Mary got sick and died.”
As James quietly said sorry, Will made his own silent apologies to Martin. There was no way he could've saved him back then, and over the years, he had learned to live with it. But denying him like that... all of a sudden, Will felt an ugly mixture of shame and sadness was over him. He had to get out of here.
#5
“You all right?”
“Yeah.” He couldn't look at James now, the lie would show on his face.
“What is it?”
“Unfinished business.” He couldn't look at James now, he might know this was not the whole truth. They had no use for him now, did they? There was no future to hold onto anymore.
“Don't be silly. We're almost away!”
“I'll catch you up.” He couldn't look at James now, or he might break his promise to Rob.
“Go.”
...and one time he couldn't
So this was it.
He had done what had to be done, as always.
Chance was dead, James and Rebecca were safe and Rochester would land on his feet, Will was sure of it. That was all a man in his position could ask for, right?
Still, he was scared shitless. He'd once seen a man shot in the head who stayed alive for almost another day, gargling and twitching, in pure agony. He didn't want to die like that.
A sudden call, and a couple of shots disrupted his thoughts, and a moment later, he realized that not only his captors were dead, but James and Rebecca had come back for him. He had told them to go, he'd freed them of any obligations, but they had come back just for him.
And James had fired well.
For once, all his emotions were clearly to be seen on his face. And for once, he couldn't care less.
