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01 August 2013 @ 01:03 pm
Silly Little Fic  
Warning: This has not been betaed.

Title: The Monk and The Maid

Inspired by a medieval Renaissance Faire that I attended. I have a thing for holy men...well, actually, I like the idea of defiling them so Artie in a monks robe made sense to me. Comment and it'll get dirtier. :P


The Monk and the Maid
by Zombiechick
Rating: PG

“I still don't see why the costumes were necessary,” Artie grumped as he fingered the brown monk robe.

“Because,” Claudia answered him as she exited the changing room at the garb shop, “that's part of the fun of gathering an artifact at a Renaissance Faire.”

Artie's eyes popped slightly at the sight of Claudia's cleavage; it looked as though her breasts were fighting to get out of the dark green leather bodice. “That's, uh...appropriate?” he asked.

Claudia looked down at herself, seemingly innocent as to the affect she had on Artie, “Well, yeah, I know you're not used to seeing me in a dress, but the chemise was typical for 14th century women.”

“Right,” Artie choked as he fished around in his leather pouch. “Uh, put this in your ear.”

“Is that a little goldfish?” Claudia asked while wrinkling her nose.

She stepped closer and Artie reminded himself to keep his gaze at eye level. He cleared his throat swallowing hard as Claudia's cleavage beckoned from his peripheral vision, “It's a Babel Fish; it'll allow you to understand German.”

“That could be helpful seeing as we're in Germany,” Claudia said as she reached for the small wriggling creature. “Wait a minute,” her eyes widened, “Babel Fish as in...”

“Douglas Adams was an agent,” Artie explained, “surprised the Regents didn't bronze him for all the Warehouse secrets that found their way into his writing. Luckily, Pan Books thought he was kidding when he tried to get them published as nonfiction.”

Claudia accepted the tool with a minimum of “ewwing” as it found it's way into her ear canal, “So, we're looking for a Hurdy Gurdy?” she asked.

“Belonging to Hildegard of Bingen,” Artie expounded, “died in 1179, Germany; considered a mystic. She was known to be able to bring people to God through the power of her music.”

“And that's evil because...” Claudia asked as she walked beside Artie over the cobblestones pointedly ignoring the “come hither” looks from the young men in garb who passed.

Artie scowled at a particularly enthusiastic admirer and stepped closer to Claudia, “The Hurdy Gurdy brings people under its thrall and has tremendous powers of suggestion.”

“So, it's fine if you're a people loving monk...”

“And not so good if you're someone looking to wield unknown powers over an audience at a Renaissance Faire. Or, we don't have to jump to the 'super villian conclusion', a simple musician who doesn't know what he's doing.” They rounded the stalls and passed by the fountain in the courtyard to see the main stage set up not far from the blacksmith. Artie nodded his head in the direction of the bare-chested, long haired band members, who were just taking the stage, leather kilts and vests making them look overheated already.

“What's the plan?” Claudia asked.

“Well you,” Artie nodded at Claudia's cleavage, “distract the Hurdy Gurdy player and I make the switch.” He patted his leather pouch that hung next to his drinking horn at his waist.

“I'm going to get one of those Mary Poppins bags for Christmas one year, right?” Claudia asked. “Something in the shape of a satchel and made with black leather; tarnished brass closure, please.”

“Maybe, if you're a good girl...,” Artie began and then realized how flirty he sounded. “Just,” he waved her away, “do your work.”

“Yes, m'lord,” Claudia curtsied and then sashayed off to the stage.

Artie watched her walk away, biting his lower lip at the lovely swing in her hips and then shook himself back to reality. The job only took a matter of minutes; luckily it was late enough in the day that everyone was far into their cups and didn't notice the monk tinkering with the band's instruments. Artie had to admit to himself that he was pretty annoyed at how good Claudia was at distracting the Hurdy Gurdy player; he could hear her giggling and cooing to the tattooed young man.

Claudia joined him back at the fountain and grinned when Artie gave her a subtle thumbs up, “They never suspect the holy man,” she laughed. Just then the music started up and Claudia cried out happily, “Whoa, sounds like The Clash except with bagpipes.”

Artie grimaced, “I'll take your word for it.”

“Oh, come on Artie, you can't totally hate this; it's kind of your era.” Claudia laughed and winked at him saucily before pulling him to the front of the stage. She leaned in, pressing her bosom against him and whispering in his ear, “Dance with me and I'll fill your horn for you.”

She stepped back and laughed as Artie's face blushed a bright red. He was very glad of the concealing monk's robe he wore and then he realized what she meant, “Oh, uh, oh, a beer.”

Claudia leaned in again and whispered, “Well, that's a start,” before pulling him into the throng of enthusiastic dancers.

 
 
 
abbysiuta: Claudia thumbs upabbysiuta on August 2nd, 2013 03:12 am (UTC)
This should be subtitled "The Salve For Fractured Elbows" fic. ;)

MORE PLEASE! I'll even beta you this time...
mavennicamavennica on September 13th, 2013 07:59 pm (UTC)
The Dry Spell is Over!
It's nice to see you writing again!

I've not been writing Artie/Claudia because I wandered over to Severus/Hermione and got lost in shipping heaven.