thrillingdetectivetales: Davie and Alan from the play, Kidnapped, kissing on the moors. Both men's faces are obscured. Davie has a hand on Alan's cheek. (Default)
Got about 1K into the Lost Boys AU and decided I ought to pop back over to what I've been calling the "deleted scene" fic but which dear Mucca has given the much cleverer moniker "the night at the inn," where Davie and Alan take a room at the Hawes Inn before going to find Mr. Rankeillor. Anyway, that one is sitting pretty at around 3.3K at the moment, and Alan and Davie have FINALLY made their way into their room, so I'm going to let it be for a bit to get some work done.

Enjoy a snippet featuring one of two OCs I've managed to squeeze in so far. (Also, please forgive any wildly incorrect application of Scots/dialogue patterns, I'm still learning!)

"Mam means well," Mary says as they go, "she really does. She's just a bit up to high doh about, well, everything really." She huffs a small, embarrassed chuckle.

"It's no trouble," Alan is quick to assure her. "It comes as a pleasant change, to tell it true. The journey has been none too kind, so far. We'll gladly suffer a bit of fuss well intended."

Mary turns just far enough to peer over her shoulder, faint pink rising in her cheeks as she smiles gratefully at Alan and says, "You're a man of great patience to say so."

Davie's fair tempted to roll his eyes. The last thing they need while they're trying to escape notice is a pretty young maid tripping over her skirts after Alan, but he can't say he blames her. Even looking like he's been dragged through every thicket of heather and gorse from here to Inverness, Alan Breck Stewart cuts a dashing figure.

Mary steps onto the landing and leads them most of the way down another hall, to a door two from the end.

"We've only the one room available, I'm afraid," she says, rifling through the keys on her ring until she finds the one she's looking for and sticks in the lock. "We were beset upon by tradesmen only last night. Some sort of gathering in Dalkeith, I take it." She gives the key a twist and swings the door open, stepping to the side so Alan and Davie can shuffle by.

The room is humble by civilized standards, just a pair of narrow straw mattresses on low frames and a mirrored cabinet for washing, but it's miles better than most of the places they've stayed these last weeks.

Mary stands in the doorway for a moment, tangling her fingers together as she explains, "It's 6 pence for the room, and then another shilling apiece if ye'll be wanting a hot meal. If ye've clothes in need of washing, we've a cart to the laundress every morning and afternoon. Just leave yer things in the basket behind the door and set it in the hall. There's a basin on the cabinet for washing, and I expect Mam'll send Jamie up with a fresh bucket for ye presently."

"Thank you most kindly, Mistress Mary," Alan says. He sweeps a shallow bow, because Alan has never met an opportunity to grandstand that he didn't embrace wholeheartedly, and offers her a smile. This time, Davie does roll his eyes. "We're in your debt."

"Oh," Mary flushes prettily, waving a hand, "not at all, Mister, uh…" She trails off, face flaring redder as she realizes she never asked their names.

"Thompson," Alan provides without hesitation. He steps over to Davie and clasps a hand to his shoulder, adding, "And this is my dear friend, Mr. Shaw."

Davie cuts Alan a sharp look out of the corner of his eye and Alan has the audacity to wink at him, the gallus bastard.

"Well, Mr. Thompson, Mr. Shaw," Mary says, curtsying at them each in turn, "if ye'll be needing anything in the meantime, ye only need pop down to the kitchen." She favors Alan with one more smile, eyes sparkling, and swings the door shut on a polite, "I'll give ye leave, then."

Davie waits another beat to ensure she's well out of earshot and then reaches over and shoves Alan, who stumbles away, laughing.
thrillingdetectivetales: Davie from Kidnapped NTS scowling in front of a black background. (Kidnapped - Davie disapproves)
It's Halloween and I have no self control, so I started noodling with a Kidnapped AU based on the movie Lost Boys. Translating a bunch of Jacobites into 1980s punk vampires is going to be a challenge, but the movie is cracky enough that I think I can probably get away with a certain amount of hand-waving.

Anyway, here's a little snippet for you. Oh! And also, Davie's mom is still alive, per the narrative of Lost Boys. I've called her Helen, like they do in the play, but may change it to Grace later, who knows. And yes, Davie's dog is named Campbell.

ETA: Swapped the snippet out for the updated version I redid last night because I like it far and away better.

It's a damp, dreary morning in the Scottish Borders when the Balfours set off for Edinburgh, a looming bank of thunderheads spitting the misty drizzle that so often precedes a proper storm.

The deluge breaks behind them as they go, like a curtain dropping on their old life. David Balfour isn't the superstitious type, but it's difficult not to see ill tidings in it.

Bad enough that he has to leave home at all, but to do so under such an inauspicious sign seems like the universe is adding insult to injury. A bolt of lightning splits the sky at their back and a faint rumble of thunder rolls out to bid them farewell. Davie's dog Campbell, a wiry-haired mutt of slightly larger than middling size, growls in reply, though he doesn't bother to so much as raise his head from where he's sprawled across the backseat, the great lazy beast.

It's only an hour or so to Edinburgh along the A68, but time seems to pass like treacle, stretching by them thick and slow.

It isn't until they're twenty minutes or so into the trip, tooling along under the cloud-streaked sky, that Davie's mother, Helen, finally interrupts the quiet that's blanketing them like a shroud. She leans forward and turns the radio on, flipping through station after station. She keeps flicking glances at Davie out of the corner of her eye as she goes, no doubt hoping that he'll express some little interest in one of them.

Not bloody likely.

Davie hasn't said a word more than the occasional affirmative or negative since they finished loading up the last of their boxes into the trailer before they left the Borders, and he doesn't intend to start now.

" - Conservative leadership re-elected for a third consecutive term - "

"No," Helen says, wrinkling her nose as she turns the dial.

Bzzzt.

" - over your shoulder, I'm walking - "

She hums in disapproval and twists again.

Bzzzt.

" - every time I look at you, falling stars come into view."

"Oh!" Helen perks up. "I love this one! It's from my time." She winks at Davie and starts swaying back and forth in her seat, crooning along with Michael Holliday and his sugar-voiced backup chorus. "Yes, that's just why you're so starry-eyed. That's just why you're so starry-eyed. When we touch I hear angels sing!"

She reaches over and squeezes Davie's arm. He shoots her a black look over his shoulder and shrugs her off, settling his chin into his hand and leaning so his temple touches the window.

Helen deflates with a sigh, straightening up and settling her hand back on the wheel. She stares out the windscreen while Michael Holliday continues warbling about how all his dreams are coming true. After a few seconds, she presses her mouth into a flat line and reaches out to stab at the button on the dash.

The car descends back into silence, only the rush of the wind through the cracked windows and Campbell snoring in the backseat serving to score the scene.
thrillingdetectivetales: Davie and Alan from Kidnapped NTS looking at each other while Mr. Rankeillor [offscreen] asks if Davie knows much about love (Kidnapped - a singular business)
I finished Kidnapped! Huzzah huzzah!

[Minor spoilers for the book below.]

There were some bits I knew would be coming and thus could properly prepare myself for (five days sleeping together under Alan's greatcoat!) and others that were hinted at but not detailed or else not warned for entirely (the fight after Cluny's! a month together[ish] in a house with Alan doting on Davie every night! Alan plays ravishing pipes! [yeah I'll bet he does Davie]). It was delightful from start to finish despite and also because of the phonetic Scots dialogue and vocabulary I'd never encountered before. I'll definitely be reading it again to pin all the details in place in my mind but what a joy!

Side note: I can't believe how many of the book beats they managed to hit in the play. Like I knew it was a lot but damn. Though now I know we were robbed of Torrance so I'm a bit miffed about that, but in all seriousness how cool to see two pieces of media that tell the same story in kindred ways while both feeling like the best and truest version of the tale.

Anyway I'm going to bed now, where I'm going to be lying awake for hours salivating over how many delicious fic opportunities have opened up now that I have both canons at my disposal. Will do a more proper review tomorrow or possibly later this week depending on what kind of free time I can finagle.

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thrillingdetectivetales: Davie and Alan from the play, Kidnapped, kissing on the moors. Both men's faces are obscured. Davie has a hand on Alan's cheek. (Default)
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