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St. Georgia and the Dragoon	By : Tigerrr Category: M through R > Patriot, The Views: 3193 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Patriot, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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****DISCLAIMER**** I don�t own The Patriot or any of its characters�though I wouldn�t mind having
my own Tavvie.

A/N: As this is my
first attempt at TavFic, please be as nice as you can manage � constructive
criticism is very much welcome. Poor
Tavvie�it seems as if he�s doomed to be beset by Mary Sues for eternity. The only other viable female character would
be whatsherface played by Joely Richardson, but I still haven�t forgiven her
for getting to do all those love scenes with Sean Bean in Lady Chatterley. It may be
petty, but I�ve never claimed to be reasonable.

************************************************************************

Georgia Lee Hampstead wanted out. A somewhat steady job as an art gallery
attendant was all fine and well, if one could stand the innate snobbery of the
clientele, but it was incredibly monotonous.
She was currently overseeing the placement of several paintings in a
small gallery in the heart of Charleston,
as a favor to her employer. Favor was
just putting a good face on �Do it and don�t argue, or you�re fired� � Arnold
Hollings had just wanted to go traipsing off to the Caribbean
with his latest mistress. Of course,
this meant that, not only did she have to hang about the gallery every day
until it closed, she had to field phone calls from Mrs. Hollings as well. She hoped Arnie got third degree burns on
his bald spot, the sleaze.

The workers finished hanging the paintings and left with a
�See ya, George!� She glanced around to look for any potential customers before
perching on the stool behind the counter and pulling her bag up from underneath
the display case. She selected her
sketchbook and started the shading on her latest portrait, which was Sean Bean
from the Sharpe series. She finished quickly and glanced at her watch
� one more hour. Sighing and pulling her
long hair back into a messy ponytail, George hopped off of the stool and began
wandering through the gallery to look at the paintings for the umpteenth time and
wishing she were able to lock the place up and go across the way to the large
indoor market. She supposed that only
one or two vendors would be left by the time she could lock up and turned her mind away from this when she stopped
in front of her favorite painting of a man in uniform. This was different from the other styles,
more lifelike somehow�and it didn�t hurt at all that the man in the painting
was extremely good looking. No one could have ever looked like that,
she thought with a smile. She ran her
fingers lightly over the brass plate with the engraving English Dragoon by Unknown Artist, 1780.

George walked on after a final admiring glance at the
blue-eyed officer. She always enjoyed
visiting Charleston
and walking the historic district, but she hadn�t been able to find time to do
so in this trip. Hollings strikes again, Georgia Lee. She paused at a large mirror to examine her
teeth disinterestedly. �Nope, it�s not
spinach,� she informed her reflection seriously, then laughed at the absurdity
of talking to herself. She quickly sobered
at the sight and she tugged her pink tank-top down over � Good Lord! Where those actually love handles? �Exercise
time, girl,� she muttered. All that made
her think of was how Eric had deserted her for that co-worker of his�what had
she been, a size -3? Of course, this was
just after he had �borrowed� nearly all the money in their joint checking
account � he had considerately left her fifty cents. She should have never let him con her into
that one, but her mother had always told her that trust was the key in any
relationship�ironically, her mother had been first to say �I told you so.�

So now she spent practically every waking moment working for
that slime Hollings, as well as taking odd jobs on the side � last week she had
been cleaning houses � just to make enough money for her rent. Art school was out of the question now. The bell on the door chimed as someone
entered the gallery and she broke off her disgusted perusal of her excess
cushioning and flipped her long black hair over one shoulder as she trotted to
the front. �Hey!� she yelled happily as
she recognized her sister Cassandra.

�Are you almost done? You did say there was some good stuff to be found in the market,� her
sister teased, embracing her fondly.

�Only one more hour�oh, it�s thirty minutes now�� They spent the remaining time discussing
their respective jobs � Cassandra Peyton worked as a traveling nurse, mostly
focusing on training others. She
entertained George with stories of her ex-husband Greg, who worked in the local
sheriff�s department. Then it was time to lock up and they ran across the
street�and were disappointed to find that the majority of vendors had gone home
for the day. They received disapproving looks from the remaining sellers who
were slowly closing down their stalls when the sisters stopped to look.

�You�d think that they�d be happy to have a customer,�
Cassandra quipped. George�s eyes were
drawn to a corner stall where a wizened old woman sat in a rocking chair and
was clearly in no hurry to leave. They
went over to admire the vintage jewelry and try some on, laughing at some of
the flashier pieces.

� I like this
one,� George breathed admiringly as she noticed, stuck in a corner of the
display case and half-covered by a draping of velvet, a somewhat tarnished
silver ring made up of smaller bands, like a puzzle ring. It looked as if each piece had a tiny jewel
embedded in it so that, when worn separately, it would match any outfit. �How much for this?� she asked, pointing to
the case.

�That ring, miss?
Wouldn�t advise buyin� that one � too much trouble, it is,� the old
woman said. �Got a nice pretty one over here,� and she tapped another case.

No, I want this one,� George maintained. How much did you say it was?�

The old woman frowned at her. �You�ll pay more than you�ve ever thought to
forfeit, missy.� When George insisted on
buying it, the old woman threw up her hands with a hint of a smile on her
wrinkled face. �Two hundred.�

Two hundred dollars?
Her face fell. She really
couldn�t afford to spare two hundred, and from the look on the woman�s face,
she knew it. This angered her for some
reason, and she pulled out her wallet from her pack before she had time to
think about what she was doing. �I�ll
take it.� Cassandra had a coughing fit.

�I can�t believe you did that,� Cass laughed as they walked
down the sidewalk outside.

�Neither can I,� George admitted ruefully. �For some reason, I just didn�t want her to
think she could walk all over me�hey, ice cream!� she tugged on her sister�s
arm, pointing to the H�agen Dazs store.

Cass looked at her loftily.
�Since I suppose I�m buying, can I at least take a look at your $200
ring? It looked like a piece of crap�� George dug out the carefully wrapped box �
apparently the old lady had been so offended at her presumption, she had
wrapped the ring�s box up as tightly as she could, with paper and then wound an
entire roll of tape around it. She tore
into it with a vengeance until she could actually see the lid, and lifted it
off just as a group of boys on skateboards went past, knocking against her
elbow and sending the box flying. The
ring hit the sidewalk and separated into segments. �Oh, shit!�
They knelt and reached to scoop up two rings apiece when George felt a
decidedly odd pull on the hand that was touching the rings.

�What was that?� She
asked just as it came again, stronger this time. Cass frowned at her just as the pull
intensified and suddenly they were falling�

Falling�.

Falling�

And landing�somewhere. They seemed to be in a forest. �What the hell
was that?� her sister demanded.

�I don�t know�but I think I�m gonna be sick,� George moaned,
clutching her stomach � she had never been good friends with vertigo. The sound of a gun shot nearby startled both
women, who jumped and huddled down against a fallen tree trunk as they glimpsed
movement in the trees.

�Sir! Over here, I see something!� came the yell from the
foliage � the underbrush shook as, from the sound of it, several men drew
close.

�Oh, shit � run!�
Cassandra yelled and leapt up to follow her own advice.

As they ran and tried to keep from tripping on vines and
branches, they got separated (Cass just had
to be wearing green today) when George�s pack got caught on a low hanging
branch and she went down into the mud swearing � wrenching herself back to her
feet, she called out to her sister unthinkingly, and heard her pursuers gain
ground as they followed the sound of her voice.
Slipping and falling yet again, she didn�t notice when her pack slid off
her shoulders and into the leaves. Hands
grabbed at her and she screamed, striking out at her attackers and receiving a
stunning blow to the face that sent her spinning to the ground. �Help,� she yelled as loudly as she
could, and got another back-handed slap.
Boots surrounded her in a tight circle and she held one hand to her
rapidly swelling cheek as she looked up at some very oddly-dressed men who
looked as if they hadn�t bathed in five years.

They demanded to know her name and her business, and some of
her courage came back. �W-who am I? Who are you, and why were you chasing me?� she demanded, trying to put up
as brave a front as she could � she remembered from an article that it was
never good to show too much fear when
you were attacked. But then, false
bravado could get you raped and killed faster�it all depended on the person
doing the attacking�Shit. Shit.
Shit.

�She�s a spy, kill her!�

�We can have some fun first, though��

She closed her eyes tight, willing away tears. Be
brave, Georgia Lee. George could smell the rankness of them as they drew
closer, and a grimy hand grasped her hair, when�

�Redcoats! Two scouts!� she heard, and opened her eyes to
see her chance and grasp it when the men looked the other way, reaching for
their guns. Lunging to her feet, she evaded the grasping arms of a tall man
with stringy hair and took off with her fear fueling her flight. She ran as hard as she could until she
finally saw what seemed to be a trail � George could see shapes on horseback
trotting parallel to her and sped up, her lungs ready to burst. She flew out of the trees and fetched up
before the leading horse and its surprised rider. �Help
me,� she gasped, clutching at the bridle in desperation. Shots rang out and the man reached down to
grasp her by the back of her top and lifting her so that she was tossed across
his lap. Not again, George thought wearily as she tried to keep from falling
back down onto the trail when her newest captor flicked the reins and the horse
began to trot.

When she had regained enough of her breath to expel it in a
scream, she did so as she struggled violently�and was surprised when a gloved
hand came cracking down on her upturned bottom censoriously. �Be still or I shall tie you,� Came the calm
command delivered in a crisp English accent.
She gasped in shock, twisting to look up at him and almost biting her
tongue as the horse jumped a fallen tree. Her newest assailant (she couldn�t
believe that he had actually spanked
her) was dressed in a red and green uniform jacket and some sort of ornate belt
that her cheek was currently mashed against as she was jounced along on his
lap. What was going on here???? �I want my sister,� she insisted loudly. He ignored her and when her insides had been
turned thoroughly inside out from all the bouncing, other riders came up around
them to report to Thighs of Steel, as she privately named him � she would have
rested better on a bed of spikes. Worry
for herself as well as Cassandra overwhelmed her so she didn�t notice at first
when they arrived in an encampment.

Thighs of Steel dismounted and pulled her off of the horse �
she had to cling to him to remain upright and finally got her first look at her
rescuer/abductor. He was tall, made even
taller by his odd helmet, black with what looked like feathers on it. Great, I�ve been kidnapped by a
good-looking ostrich. �Who are you?�
he demanded in a voice that made her knees instantly turn to goo. Fantastic � tall, gorgeous, and British�a lethal combination in Georgia�s
books. He reminded her of someone, but
how could she forget another man who looked like this one? Beautiful was the only word good enough for
him, and she suddenly realized that he now looked very annoyed at having had to
repeat his question � what was it, at least three times now? He definitely looked like the kind of man who
expected instant obedience from others�if they could stop from wallowing in
those blue eyes for half a second.

�Why does everyone keep asking me that? You people need to
just go back to playing �North and South� and leave me out of it � I certainly
never asked to be chased by the Renaissance Faire,� she griped, crossing her
arms across her breasts defensively as she saw his eyes drift down to her
chest. Can�t I just start today over again? I�d put a more sensible bra on, for starters.

Thighs of Steel looked at her as if she�d grown two heads �
at least now he had returned his gaze back to her face, but she strongly
suspected that she was regaining the �deer in headlights� look as his eyes met
hers. �North and�?� he sighed and shook his head, indicating that
he didn�t want to know anything else.
�You do realize that I can hang you as a spy,� he went on, studying her
face intently before resuming his inspection of her now-muddy pink tank top,
khaki shorts, and hiking boots.

George groaned and brought up a hand to her sore cheek to
touch it gingerly. �Hang me? I�m not anyone�s spy! Okay, this role-playing shit has
gone on long enough, and I-�

�If you�re not a spy, then why were you running straight
towards us?� he asked quickly.

�Um � acting out �Chariots of Fire�?�

�What?�

�Look, just let me go � I�m cold, tired, my feet hurt, my
face hurts, and I need a shower. I would
add that I need to pee, but I�m afraid that the other group of guys scared it
right out of me.�

His eyebrows arched at this pronouncement and she heard him
mutter something about �vulgar colonials� before raising his voice and calling
another man over to watch her just as another group of horsemen rode up with
some of her original assailants. �If she
tries to run, shoot her,� he said evenly.
George gaped at him as he turned to stride away, calling out orders that
the others sprang to obey.

�Who does he think he is, God?� she said angrily. �I want to go back to Charleston; I�ve had enough of this crap.�

�Charleston,
miss? You mean, Charles Town,� her
guard, a big heavily built man with dark hair and a strong jaw, corrected her.

George sighed. �You
know what? Just stop playing your little role.
When I get back, I�ll have every one of you morons thrown in jail so
fast your heads will spin � my sister�s ex-husband is a Deputy. Get a bunch of men together in their costumes
and they�ll play it to the hilt�I�m sure I�ll be able to get on the phone and
make sure your reenactment company is disbanded.� She was on a roll and continued her rant to
her hapless guardian, who looked completely bewildered. Glancing around as she maintained her tirade,
she saw that Thighs of Steel was now standing with another older man in an
absurd powdered wig and gesturing towards her then to her attackers, who were
arranged in a phony �firing line.� �Now
they�re going to pretend to shoot them,� she snorted in disgust. �Watch this.�

And she watched as the men in red and green lifted their
rifles - �loaded with blanks,� she said wisely � and fired. And stared as red blossomed on the trees
behind the men before they toppled over, clearly dead. �Oh.
My. GOD,� she gasped, her hands
coming up to cover her mouth in horror.
�They�re really dead � they just�they�oh my god�� Over by the largest tent, the two men looked
back over at her � Powdered Wig turned and walked back inside the tent and left
Thighs of Steel to remove his helmet as he sauntered over to nudge the fallen
bodies with a boot. �This isn�t a Civil
War reenactment troop, is it?� she asked shakily.

�Civil War? No ma�am��

Georgia Lee Hampstead strongly suspected that she wasn�t in Kansas anymore.
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St. Georgia and the Dragoon