Field Testing (![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
non_plot challenge #23, 'Murphy's Law'.)
It was cold. Cold and windy and damp; a shiver dragged Sarah toward consciousness, and a headache kept her there. She sat up and gingerly held her head between two hands, groping on the springy grass for a moment before finding her silver-rimmed glasses.
They didn't really help, but at least her face didn't feel as naked as the rest of her did. The world was just plain swirly, no matter how you looked at it. Masses of gold-green and grey slowly formed into an empty sky, a half-mown hayfield. A large ominous shape turned out to be a ramshackle barn.
Where the hell was she? She got up on her knees, wrapping her arms around her bare breasts in a futile attempt to warm herself.
Evan was lying about three feet away, naked as the day he was born and snoring like a DC-10. Sarah reached over and nudged him gently with her foot.
That didn't work, so she nudged him a little less gently. Well, kicked him really, to tell the truth of it.
Memories began to resurface, first dimly, and then more clearly.
The pub. Right. They had been in the pub. They had been in the pub, and they had been drinking. They had been drinking in the pub...
So why were they naked in a field? She kicked him again, a little harder this time.
Evan moaned, grumbling, and sat up. "Jesus effing Mary. Quit yer abuse, woman."
"Get up. Where are we?" Sarah insisted.
He looked around for a moment, squinting, and then nodded solemnly. "Looks te me like a field."
"Thank you." she glared at him, shaking her head. "What field?"
"How th' hell should I know? There's a billion fields in Ireland." Evan yawned. "Ye think I'm personally acquainted with 'em all?"
"We were drinking, and then we were going back to the hotel." Sarah replied slowly, casting around for her clothes and finding a sock.
"We didn't make it, I reckon."
"You're supposed to be helping me figure this out, not stating the obvious." Sarah sighed and winced as the sun broke through the clouds. "God damn, my head hurts. Looks like we had sex, anyway."
"Was it good?"
"I have no idea."
"That's good, I don't feel so bad then fer not rememberin'." Evan retrieved Sarah's bra and tossed it at her.
"And I guess we fell asleep." Sarah retrieved one of her half-laced boots, and then the other. "Jeez. What a night."
"Amen." Evan crossed himself and spat, getting to his feet and loping casually across the field to fetch his ragged blue jeans, which had gotten caught in a stray breeze and were fluttering merrily up against a fencepost.
Something - maybe it was a murmured word that a trick of the wind had brought to her attention, maybe it was another sound that she was only half-aware of hearing - made Sarah glance up from the half-seated crouch she was kneeling in, peering through the window of her t-shirt as she pulled it over her head. "Uh, Evan?"
"Yeah?" Evan turned to face her and froze halfway through the turn; the colour drained from his already pale skin.
A throng of old ladies was standing at the edge of the road, staring at them.
"Faith and begorrah." one of them shouted. "Look, Hannah, two naked people."
"Naked people." Another one replied, nodding. "Heavens te Murgatroyd."
"That one's a fine lookin' young man, he is." the first one commented.
"He is indeed."
"Looks like he's got a good six, seven inches on him."
"Once he's full grown."
They began to laugh, cackling and fluttering like chickens. Evan picked up his jeans and half-covered himself as discreetly as the situation would allow, backing toward the barn at the edge of the field. "Come on."
"My stuff..."
"Sarah," Evan replied between clenched teeth, "if ye ever want te see my stuff ever again, we ought te get goin', yeah?"
"Oooh, look at 'im go!" One of the women hooted as they dashed across the empty field toward the barn. Sarah began gasping with exertion and laughter as they dove behind the half-erected structure.
Evan glared at her, pulling on his pants. "An' I love you too, ye damn Judas."
"Must be that famous Donnelly luck." Sarah choked, tears running down her face.
They didn't really help, but at least her face didn't feel as naked as the rest of her did. The world was just plain swirly, no matter how you looked at it. Masses of gold-green and grey slowly formed into an empty sky, a half-mown hayfield. A large ominous shape turned out to be a ramshackle barn.
Where the hell was she? She got up on her knees, wrapping her arms around her bare breasts in a futile attempt to warm herself.
Evan was lying about three feet away, naked as the day he was born and snoring like a DC-10. Sarah reached over and nudged him gently with her foot.
That didn't work, so she nudged him a little less gently. Well, kicked him really, to tell the truth of it.
Memories began to resurface, first dimly, and then more clearly.
The pub. Right. They had been in the pub. They had been in the pub, and they had been drinking. They had been drinking in the pub...
So why were they naked in a field? She kicked him again, a little harder this time.
Evan moaned, grumbling, and sat up. "Jesus effing Mary. Quit yer abuse, woman."
"Get up. Where are we?" Sarah insisted.
He looked around for a moment, squinting, and then nodded solemnly. "Looks te me like a field."
"Thank you." she glared at him, shaking her head. "What field?"
"How th' hell should I know? There's a billion fields in Ireland." Evan yawned. "Ye think I'm personally acquainted with 'em all?"
"We were drinking, and then we were going back to the hotel." Sarah replied slowly, casting around for her clothes and finding a sock.
"We didn't make it, I reckon."
"You're supposed to be helping me figure this out, not stating the obvious." Sarah sighed and winced as the sun broke through the clouds. "God damn, my head hurts. Looks like we had sex, anyway."
"Was it good?"
"I have no idea."
"That's good, I don't feel so bad then fer not rememberin'." Evan retrieved Sarah's bra and tossed it at her.
"And I guess we fell asleep." Sarah retrieved one of her half-laced boots, and then the other. "Jeez. What a night."
"Amen." Evan crossed himself and spat, getting to his feet and loping casually across the field to fetch his ragged blue jeans, which had gotten caught in a stray breeze and were fluttering merrily up against a fencepost.
Something - maybe it was a murmured word that a trick of the wind had brought to her attention, maybe it was another sound that she was only half-aware of hearing - made Sarah glance up from the half-seated crouch she was kneeling in, peering through the window of her t-shirt as she pulled it over her head. "Uh, Evan?"
"Yeah?" Evan turned to face her and froze halfway through the turn; the colour drained from his already pale skin.
A throng of old ladies was standing at the edge of the road, staring at them.
"Faith and begorrah." one of them shouted. "Look, Hannah, two naked people."
"Naked people." Another one replied, nodding. "Heavens te Murgatroyd."
"That one's a fine lookin' young man, he is." the first one commented.
"He is indeed."
"Looks like he's got a good six, seven inches on him."
"Once he's full grown."
They began to laugh, cackling and fluttering like chickens. Evan picked up his jeans and half-covered himself as discreetly as the situation would allow, backing toward the barn at the edge of the field. "Come on."
"My stuff..."
"Sarah," Evan replied between clenched teeth, "if ye ever want te see my stuff ever again, we ought te get goin', yeah?"
"Oooh, look at 'im go!" One of the women hooted as they dashed across the empty field toward the barn. Sarah began gasping with exertion and laughter as they dove behind the half-erected structure.
Evan glared at her, pulling on his pants. "An' I love you too, ye damn Judas."
"Must be that famous Donnelly luck." Sarah choked, tears running down her face.