Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Notes: Written for intercomm at livejournal. A big thank-you to roh_wyn for being such an excellent beta!

Author's Note: There should have been way more Djaq and Marian moments on-screen! They were both strong, clever women. Both serious fighters. Both forced—in different ways and for different reasons—to hide their true identity.

Plus, I always found it interesting that the sheriff punished Marian by having her hair publicly cut in 1X04, then Djaq showed up in 1x05—complete with short-cropped boy's hair (presumably for protection). What conversations these two women could have had! So here's my idea for how they might get over any initial suspicion of one another once Marian was informed (in 1x08) that Djaq was a woman. Set sometime shortly after 1x08 ("Tattoo? What Tattoo?").

Djaq surveys the final shrub she has set in place in order to camouflage the makeshift camp—just as John has taught her—and nods, deciding it is sufficient. They have been camped in this particular spot for over a week and she's certain they will be moving to some new location very soon. But for now, it would not do to have anyone wander by and see a fire pit, bedding, or any other sign that someone is living there.

The men are out making their drops-offs and, ordinarily, Djaq would have accompanied them. But she's stayed behind this time under the pretense of replenishing some plants for her medical kit. Robin scrutinized her long and hard before nodding his agreement and she wondered—not for the first time—if he perhaps knows what she's really up to.

But of course he could not. He would have said something to her if he had. He would have admonished her in some way for disobeying his orders by retrieving Lambert's ledger from the fire.

No...Robin has no idea and that is just as well. She is still not yet certain whether she will be able to properly duplicate Lambert's results and her progress is proving rather slow indeed.

So there's no reason to trouble Robin—who has far too many burdens of his own—with something that may never even come to fruition.

As she grabs her basket and sets off to gather the necessary ingredients for her latest experiment, she takes a moment to simply enjoy the solitude.

As much as she's grown to admire and even like the men in the months since she's joined them, sometimes it's simply nice to have a bit of time to herself. They are men, after all, and frankly...well, sometimes it is just too much.

Too many men...with their habits... and their smells... and their carefully "coded" conversations about their exploits with women which—in their simple-minded absurdity—they believe her incapable of understanding.

And at times, it simply overwhelms her.

She cannot really blame them, of course, as they are only men and can hardly be expected to behave as anything else. But still, there are times when being the only woman amongst them is trying indeed and she relishes these far too infrequent moments of peace.

The afternoon is cool and bright and she takes deep cleansing breaths as she walks, in no hurry, as the others will be gone for hours yet. But just as she begins to relax into herself and let go of some of the harsh defenses she still cannot quite shed in front of her comrades, she hears the canter of familiar hoof beats and curses under her breath.

Dammit! Lady Marian.

Djaq quickly hides herself behind the nearest tree and waits. She feels foolish for hiding but hopes that Marian will see that Robin is not about and gallop off back to Knighton...or wherever she spends the bulk of her time.

But as the minutes tick by without the sound of her returning the way she came, Djaq once again curses her bad luck. This is certainly an inconvenience she can do without today—not only because she needs privacy in order to work on her experiments, but also because Marian, specifically, makes her rather uncomfortable.

It's not that Djaq doesn't like the woman. In fact, she hardly knows her at all. Still, her visits rarely bode well for Robin and his men—often leading to confrontations and mishaps of the sort they could very well do without—and Djaq cannot help but wonder why Robin does not see what a dangerous distraction she is.

A leader should be focused, after all.

There is also the fact that Djaq is quite certain Marian does not like her—or at least that she does not approve of Djaq's presence among the outlaws.

It's odd, really, because for the first several weeks that Djaq was amongst them, she saw Marian several times and never once did the woman offer even a glance in her direction. She ignored Djaq with just as much concentrated effort as she ignored the rest of Robin's men and Djaq didn't mind the lack of attention in the least.

But something has changed, because lately, whenever Marian trots into the forest or the gang runs into her in Nottingham, Djaq can't seem to avoid her gaze—no matter how hard she tries. Marian seems almost to be studying her—studying her face and her hair. Like she's trying to figure something out and it unnerves Djaq immensely, although she cannot say for certain just why.

She peers out from her hiding place just enough to ascertain what is taking the other woman so long to be on her way. Marian is standing next to her horse and trying her very best to appear unbothered, as if she is most definitely not waiting for Robin.

Typical.

It is all a part of this silly game Robin and Marian play with one another and Djaq cannot help rolling her eyes at such foolishness. Much has informed her the two were once meant to be wed, but to Djaq, they often resemble bickering siblings more than separated lovers.

She takes a deep breath and steps out from her hiding spot, clearing her throat to make herself known.

While she has no real wish to deal with this woman, Djaq cannot discount the possibility she has brought some vital bit of information for Robin that he will surely want to have as soon as he returns. So she approaches with feigned casualness and pretends not to notice the startled look on the other woman's face.

"Oh. Djaq...I...I was beginning to think no one was here." Again, there is that piercing stare and Djaq walks even straighter, determined to maintain her ground. This forest is her home after all, and she will not allow herself to be made to feel out of place by a guest.

"The men have gone to the village of Clun," Djaq replies flatly, offering no further details.

"I see. I was hoping to speak with Robin..." her voice trails as her eyes travel to the ground and Djaq is surprised to see her so unnerved. She is usually so poised and confident. Arrogant even.

"Well, as I say, he is not here. He has been gone but a short time now, however, so surely you can catch him in Clun and speak with him there." She says the last in honeyed tones, knowing full well that Marian cannot be seen in the villages with Robin.

Djaq wonders briefly why she is being unnecessarily antagonistic when doing so will no doubt only prolong the woman's stay. Would it not be far more sensible to simply offer to pass on a message and be done with it?

But those thoughts are filed away to be pondered at a later time as Marian, too, stands straighter and raises her eyes once again to meet Djaq's. She is sizing her up, Djaq can tell, and there is something there, just behind the eyes. A flash of something strong and dangerous and Djaq nearly falters from the unexpectedness of it.

"No," Marian responds after a moment's thought. "I think that I will wait. Robin will be disappointed if we miss one another yet again," she says with a sureness that was missing before and Djaq suddenly understands.

Robin or someone else has told her Djaq is a woman.

She must have been unaware of it until recently and it explains a lot. The new attention, the strange looks at Djaq's hair, the vague sense of disapproval.

Djaq feels vulnerable and exposed all of a sudden. She has to force herself not to reach up and run a hand over her shorn head and she silently scolds herself for such vanity. She is a soldier and she is proud and this type of feminine insecurity is most assuredly beneath her.

Abruptly and inexplicable, she wants Marian gone.

"Robin may not return for hours yet. I can pass on your message," she says quickly...helpfully.

But it is too late and the tables have turned.

"No. I'll wait." It is said simply but with a smugness that Djaq finds nearly unbearable and Marian sees this, she is sure, because she allows herself a tiny triumphant smile.

And the picture becomes clearer. Lady Marian is staking her claim on Robin of Locksley and Djaq resists the urge to laugh in her face and assure her that there is no need. Truly.

She can have him. This Robin of Locksley means nothing to Djaq. He is but a man—spoiled and silly and full of a boyish charm that may bring other women to their knees but has no affect on her.

It is the other whom Djaq serves. The legend, the cause, the hero.

Robin Hood.

He who freed her, shut down the mine, and humiliated the Sheriff, all in an afternoon. He who speaks her language, has read the Qur'an and understands peace as only a warrior can.

But she says none of this for she is certain that Lady Marian would not understand. She could not possibly see the distinction.

"I—" Any words Djaq may have been about to utter die quickly on her tongue as she draws her weapon to the sound of horses approaching.

But it is too late to run. They are upon her at once. She allowed herself to become distracted when she should have been watchful. She's a fool and she knows it and the Sheriff will waste no time in making her pay for it. He is no doubt still smarting over their last encounter.

"Stand back, my Lady!" one of the soldiers shouts, leaping from his horse to push Marian out of the way. Clearly, they believe they are saving their dear Lady from being robbed at Djaq's hands, and it is just as well. There is no sense in both of them being caught if it can be avoided.

"Hood's little Saracen!" the other spits at Djaq, his sword drawn and a sickening grin splitting his face.

As she raises her own sword and widens her stance, she pushes away all thoughts of how the men's view of her will alter once they discover she has been captured yet again or how irritated she is that Marian's presence has once again proved a dangerous distraction—this time to her.

Instead, she pours all of her focus into determining an escape route. She knows that she cannot risk leading them toward the camp even though no one is there at the moment. Their few belongings are hidden within and she will not risk the guards destroying what little the others have to call their own.

Still, it may be possible to dash for the trees.

She is small and fast and she has come to know the roots and trunks and winding paths well during her time in the forest. She will certainly have an advantage over these two clumsy oafs. If only she can edge apart from them just a little, she can make it, she is sure.

But both of her opponents are ready for such an attempt, it seems. Perhaps the Sheriff's men are not quite as useless and inept as they often appear, for they move to flank her, effectively blocking any opportunity for escape.

She is trapped and she quickly realizes that she has no choice but to fight.

The man to her left lunges at her, sword down, apparently not intent on striking her but showing off in front of Lady Marian. He is vaguely disappointed when Djaq does not leap back in fear, but it is short-lived and his eyes widen as she hooks her sword over his and forces it down with all her might. She has almost loosened it from his grip when she sees the other run at her out of the corner of her eye.

Clearly, they realize they have underestimated her and quickly abandon their plans to use her for a bit of practice. She releases her pressure on the first man's weapon and disentangles her own just in time to swing it toward her new attacker. It meets his with a heavy clang and she pushes off to swing back at the other who thrusts up at her sharply.

She parries, and sidesteps, and suddenly a movement catches her eye as Marian comes up behind the man to Djaq's right and immediately incapacitates him with an odd twirl and a kick that knocks him to the ground in a heap.

"Oi! What the...?" the guard before her exclaims as he takes in the sight.

Djaq, too, is momentarily stunned for she has never seen such a move before and it is the last thing she would have expected from Marian.

"Djaq, look out!"

She dodges just in time to avoid the impact of the blow from her remaining opponent and instead brings the flat of her sword down upon his helmet with as much force as she can muster. He, too, falls to the ground and the two women allow themselves the first real breath either has taken since Marian's arrival.

Djaq drops to her knees and rests upon her sword, letting her heart settle itself back to a normal rhythm, while Marian comes to stand at her side.

"What shall we do with them, do you think?" Marian asks although Djaq can tell by her tone it is clear to both of them what the safest course of action would be.

"Robin does not like for us to kill," Djaq shrugs apologetically, meeting Marian's eyes.

"Ah yes. His precious code," she says with the slightest hint of impatience and Djaq finds herself secretly amused by this. "But I cannot allow these men to expose me. Not merely for my own sake, but for my father's as well."

"You are right. They must not be allowed to tell what took place here," she answers absently, trying desperately to come up with a solution.

"Whatever we do, we must do it quickly. They won't be out for long."

"I have it!" Djaq declares, rising from her knees, sheathing her weapon and running toward the camp. She returns in a moment holding a vial in one hand and a flask in the other. Indicating the flask, she says, "Allan keeps this tucked into his bedroll. It is some sort of strong drink. Liquor. We can use it on them."

"There's not enough there to get even one of them very drunk, Djaq."

"No, but we will use this," and she holds out the vial for Marian to inspect. "It is something I have been working on and it is very potent. Only a small amount, forced down their throats, will be enough to not only keep them unconscious for hours but also to confuse their memory of recent events. We can then douse them in this liquor, put them on their horses and send them back wherever they came from."

"And they, and everyone else, will just assume they got really drunk," Marian says, picking up Djaq's line of thinking.

"Exactly. They will not remember finding you here or that you fought them. In fact, they will probably not even remember getting out of bed this morning."

"You're a genius, Djaq!" Marian declares, kneeling next to the guards, and Djaq finds herself irrationally pleased by the praise.

As they force the still-unconscious men to down the liquid and sprinkle enough liquor over their clothes and hair to give the impression of drunkenness, Djaq contemplates the woman before her.

The woman she misjudged so severely.

Marian is not at all the wilting English flower Djaq imagined. She is strong and brave, much like the women back home. And her life is not an easy one. Djaq can see that now.

It still seems to her that at least some of Marian's troubles are of her own making, but Djaq has no doubt any complications Marian has created for herself were born out of a desire to do what she believes to be right. She is a fighter, after all. That much is clear.

They heave the two men onto their feet and slump each over a horse's back—patting the horses on the rear and bidding the "riders" a relieved farewell as the horses gallop back toward Nottingham.

"I should be on my way as well," Marian says and Djaq is oddly sorry. She would have liked to study Marian a bit more without the distraction of the others to cloud her observations.

"Do you not wish to wait for Robin?"

"Just in case those two have any lingering memories of meeting me here, it would be better if I were to be seen elsewhere as soon as possible," she answers and Djaq thinks that she can detect a hint of regret in Marian's tone as well.

"That is very sensible," she concedes as Marian mounts her horse and turns to head out.

Just before she spurs her horse to a gallop, however, she turns back and says, "There is a story in the Bible about a man named Samson."

Djaq nods, "Yes, I know it." She is aware of the story, as it is Hebrew in origin and she studied quite a lot of Hebrew literature when she was younger. But she is puzzled as to why Marian would bring up such a thing.

"Then you know that Samson's hair was his source of strength. That once it was removed, he was weakened to the point of being ordinary. Less than ordinary." Marian pauses and studies Djaq intently for a moment. "I've thought a lot about Samson and his hair over the past few months and I've come to the conclusion that the opposite must be true of women."

"I do not understand," Djaq says, eyeing Marian and trying to carefully extract whatever hidden meaning is held in her words.

"Not only is our strength most certainly not found in our hair, but I think that once we are forced to do without it, we become even stronger. More determined. Unstoppable."

Djaq knits her brows thoughtfully as Marian rides away without waiting for a response.

She reaches up to run her hand over her own hair, shorn almost as low as Samson's, and for the first time she feels a secret thrill at the prickly coarseness under her palm. She allows herself a smile.

There is some truth to Marian's words—however strange—but Djaq still cannot help wondering at the significance of such an epiphany to a woman such as Marian...

A woman with long flowing locks that dance behind her in the breeze as she gallops out of sight.