Welcome to week 4 of the St Mary’s fanfiction short stories. This weeks story is by Vicky Garlic and the first thing that came to my mind was: Seriously?
Only Sykes could manage to get herself propositioned by Fat Harry himself. And on his way to his own wedding, too! Has she no shame? Nicely written and the dialogue really pushes the story along.
The Flanders Mare Fiasco: 6th January 1540, Greenwich, London. A nice, simple observe and document jump, or at least it should have been. My name’s Max and I work for St. Mary’s Institute of Historical Research where we investigate major historical events in contemporary time, don’t call it time travel.
Our latest assignment was to jump to 1540 and witness the marriage between Henry VIII and Anne of Cleves. Why her? Simple really, to find out whether she was as unattractive as everyone said. It’s well known that Anne was said to look nothing like her portrait and Henry wanted out of the marriage as soon as he’d said ‘I do’. Well it was actually a bit sooner than that.
Peterson landed the pod with a bump (I really should stop him from driving) and he, Sykes, North, Markham and I headed towards Greenwich Palace where we hoped to see a glimpse of the fabled Anne. We managed to bustle our way to a good viewing position and I’m almost certain I would have had a perfect view of the new Queen had we not lost Markham and Sykes on the way.
“Markham? Sykes? Report”
“Oh, hi Max,” Sykes replied in her typically cheery voice, “Everything’s fine.”
“Where are you?”
“We took a wrong turn and…oh my god!”
“Oh it’s nothing,” Sykes replied making me tense up.
A long silence.
“We’re fine Max,” he finally replied in an equally cheery voice. I groaned internally. “What’s going on? Where are you?”
“It’s okay,” Markham replied a little too quickly, “We’re on our way back now; we just had a little misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding? With who?”
“No one important,” he said airily. I ground my teeth as I saw them enter into view and strode towards them trying to look menacing as the two of them just grinned at me.
“Umm,” Sykes said.
“Well…” Markham said.
“Someone better answer me,” I threatened.
“I might have been propositioned,” Sykes finally replied.
“Henry,” they responded in unison.
I started, “King Henry?” They nodded slowly. “How?”
“Like I said we took a wrong turn.”
I just stared.
“It’s okay, Markham explained I was already spoken for and he seemed to accept it.”
“Peterson, where are you?”
“We’re in the crowd,” Tim replied, “just seen Anne and seriously Max her description as the Flanders Mare is unnervingly accurate.”
“Never mind that now,” I said, “get yourselves back to the pod, we might have outstayed our welcome.”
“Come on you two,” I said glaring at them as they continued to smile.
We miraculously evaded capture/imprisonment/beheading so Henry must have decided to go through with his wedding to the unattractive Anne. Turns out Peterson wasn’t exaggerating about that bit and they had the footage to prove it; Dr. Bairstow would be happy with that at least. I heaved a sigh of relief, settled myself at the console, programmed the return coordinates and initiated the jump. The world went white.