The Great Escape

(caution: I probably fucked up matt's description, like char's blonde hair. yolo!!1!)

Leander took the treats from Matthew's palm and offered them to Man of Steel, only halfway listening to Hera Ramos as the woman chattered on in the background. "He is one of the eight Bryan bought some years ago. A foolish purchase turned into a wise investment." The horse had finished his snack, which gave Leander time to turn towards Hera. A smile pulled at her full lips as her dark eyes shifted from Clark to Matthew. "Clark is a gentle creature and Matt a fit jockey for him."

Matt was, indeed, quite fit - speaking in terms of horsemanship of course. Not unlike that of his mount, there was a refined power behind every movement and gesture. A sort of commanding grace with which the man moved. His button up shirt pulled just so at his sides as he lifted his arm to scratch the back of his neck. And there was his face, too. Full lips, tanned complexion, beauty marks like connect-the-dots tracing down his defined jaw and to his collarbone.

All of this certainly added up to a fine horseman. Yes, that's all, that's it, that was done. Leander drew his eyes away from Matthew and back to Hera, who would surely be saying something to distract Leander from these thoughts. She spoke of a different horse, Preach, and, as if on queue, a loud whinny cracked through the air, followed by a mess of kicking and banging, hooves against a trailer somewhere not too far off, by the sounds of it.

"Oh, I know a horse when it's about to bite." Leander grinned. "Father kept some of the nastiest stallions. He would only ride horses that put up a fight. He said he liked the challenge. I myself can't see the enjoyment in it. Though, I suppose he never did let me have a go at an untrained horse. Probably for the best, though. According to him, I'm too light on my feet, too soft. As far as I know, horses never mind their manners on the grounds of pity for their handler, and only rarely do they do so out of love." The man paused, wondering if his rambling had become a bit too sentimental. Small talk was something he was so much better at with a glass of wine in hand. "I suppose I was very lucky with Celandine."

"That," Matt grinned, "is Man of Steel, he's our best racer." he stuck a hand in his pocket and rummaged around, "Ah, here we go, give him this," the small man offered Leander a couple of shredded wheats.

"He is one of the eight Bryan bought some years ago. A foolish purchase turned into a wise investment," the black woman noted her plump lips gave Leander a small smile. "Clark is a gentle creature and Matt a fit jockey for him." Hera complimented as she leaned on the fence. "Careful if you should see Preach, he is a nasty devil and will bite if given the chance." she nodded toward the stables, a silver black stallion bucked and snapped at two men as they tried to halter him.

The African woman smiled, full lips curling up over impeccably white teeth. Leander suddenly remembered he'd forgotten to brush his teeth this morning. That must have been the cause of all this nonsense. There was nothing so dangerous as forgetting your regular routine. Just a few moments ago with the handshake proved that getting a tiny detail incorrect could completely ruin a day. He would just have to be more careful. By the time Leander switched his focus from Hera's mouth to the words that were coming out of it, he just barely caught the last of her sentence. "We have had many come to this place and know nothing." she purred. Her deep voice was less angry now, more soothing and motherly. "It would have been a much wiser choice to hire a driver until you learn yourself." The woman looked away from Leander and down towards his filly, who was still hovering close to her owner, too attached or just too afraid to investigate the rest of her surroundings. "It seems like only yesterday there were foals in the pastures." Hera sighed, scratching Celandine on the head.

"She's a cutiepie," Chimed in the man from before. Interesting choice of words. Corduroys might have been Leander's first hint, but cutiepie? Well, Leander wasn't one to judge. Anyways, people mistook him for being, you know, all the time. A person couldn't help it if they had a wide vocabulary and a good fashion sense.

"She looks like a hano-cross?" Leander suddenly remembered the question that handshake man had asked. "Ah, no, andalusian actually. Though, I used to ride a lovely old hano-cross in my younger days." while Leander answered, he noticed Hera beginning to lead the group towards the gate and out of the paddock. He glanced towards his filly nervously. "Celandine, that's what I call her, well, she's quite fragile. I really don't like leaving her alone.." The african woman didn't seem to hear, as she unlatched the gate before her. "Come, we will brign your truck and you may speak with Rita. Perhaps, if you are interested, you may watch Charlotte train in dressage this afternoon."

The thin, pale-haired man hesitantly slipped through the gate after Hera Ramos and Matthew, leaving Celandine to duck her head in-between the fence rails and make that darling worried face. Leander fought the urge to shout out something like 'Mummy won't be gone long my sweetie,' but he figured he'd already made enough of a fuss already. As the trio began the walk down the long, winding driveway back to the main part of the stables, a large, gray stallion trotted towards then, whinnying and throwing his head. His ears flickered cautiously as he took in Leander's scent. The man felt his face redden. Perhaps he should have taken the cologne with him instead of kept it in his truck. Oh, what was he thinking. It was entirely too self-conscious of him to worry that he might smell bad to a horse.

"And who is this?" Leander cooed, lifting his hand to the stallion's nose as it walked beside him. Of course, Leander knew which horse this was. Research was his middle name, and he had done quite a bit of it on this place. The gray stallion before him was Man of Steel, or Clark, one of the stable's best known horses. An answer to his question wasn't really necessary, not that it mattered. The man simply liked to talk.

Hera smiled, "No, we have had many come to this place and know nothing. It would have been a much wiser choice to hire a driver until you learn yourself." She patted the foal fondly, "It seems like only yesterday there were foals in the fields..." she gently scratched the foals forehead.

"She's a cutiepie," Matt pipped up, "She looks like a hano-cross?" he asked, opening the gate to let Leander slip out of the paddock.

"Come, let us go down to the gate and speak. We will bring your truck and you may speak with Rita." Hera nodded with a gesture to the dirt road. "Perhaps, if you are interested, you may watch Charlotte train in dressage this afternoon."

As they began the walk down the drive, a deep gray stallion trotted toward them. He whinnied, ears alert and curious as he sniffed at Leander.

"I'm Charlotte" the young woman cooed. Her voice was pleasant, a familiar British accent, which made it even more surprising when the woman didn't bother to put on a false smile as she shook Leander's hand. Unusual, the man thought to himself, how anyone could go through the experience of a handshake without their mouths curling into even the tiniest hint of a smile. It was not only unusual, but completely unheard of for Leander, who had shaken many a hand in his day, and never once been so utterly frowned at.

It may have been that the man had stood up too fast, or perhaps he was still in shock, or maybe that unpleasant handshake had been the very thing to drive the pale-haired man completely mad. Whatever happened, for the next minute and a half or so, Leander didn't much pay much attention to it. Mouths moved, words were exchanged, figures came and went, but a dull pain arose in his head, and any awareness of the world around him caused by adrenaline soon vanished.

It seemed that only a proper handshake could break him out of the trance brought on by the last one, and this was a proper handshake indeed. Leander heard something that sounded like "corduroys", "classy", "I'm Matthew," and, before he knew it, there it was. A smile and a handshake. His heart started to beat as normal, his ears were no longer plugged, his eyes began to see more than just fuzzy shapes, his brain continued to function properly, and, letting go of the handshake with a sigh of relief, Leander deducted that all was right in the world, so long as someone around here knew how to give a proper bloody handshake.

"An' I'm Hera." Leander heard from behind him. The man spun around on his heel, fully prepared to use his this new burst of sanity as much as he possibly could before another of these people decided to screw over a different set of manners. The man recognized Hera Ramos, the stable manager, from his aforementioned research. She was quite angry with him, that he could tell by her tone of voice. Leander was impressed by the woman's English, her ability to put together the nicer words of the language rather than the nastier ones. Honestly, he had expected worse, after he had just let loose what seemed to be every horse on the property.

"I am," Leander nodded his head up and down at a rate that one might not have thought humanly possible, "so, so grateful that no one was hurt. It was stupid of me to try and drive that bloody truck. I thought, well, if I hired a driver, you lot might get the wrong impression of me..."

Charlotte shot Matt a look which clearly stated 'Lord help us,' as she watched the man flailing around on the ground. Matt grinned as he lead the dappled mare toward the stables, "I'll get her groomed and tacked for you Charlotte."

"Oh no no no, don't you leave me here with-" She sighed and turned, the man had finally taken the time to shake himself down and stand up. His clothing was of an old, outdated british design and gave him an almost regal appearance, not to mention pretensious and snooty.

"Leander Edgin. New boarder here. I'm terribly sorry about the mishap. We don't have many dirt roads back in England." He extended a muddied hand as his foal pranced about.

"I'm Charlotte," she took a moment to dust her hands before she shook his, "and there's no need to worry about the fence, I'm sure Rita will find a fair way for you to compensate." she smiled devilishly.

Matt scampered back, his wavy brown hair matted to his head with sweat. "Mrs. Heart said to tell you 'the men have the stallions all rounded up,'" he paused to catch his breath as he tried to remember exactly what the red-headed woman had said, "Oh, and 'so when you get Sugar ready tell Char to get ready for her lessons.'" he finished with a smile, his gaze wandered to the mud coated man in fancy clothing.

"Great! You deal with him," Charlotte beamed. She gave Matt a quick pat on the back and headed for the stables.

Matt blushed, "Love the corduroys, very classy," he complimented as he offered his own hand, "I'm Matthew,"

"An' I'm Hera, good now everyone is aquainted. What did you think you were doing? Do you have any idea how lucky we are that none of the horses were hurt and that none of them got very far, or even how lucky you are to have your foal make it without a scratch?" Hera, the stables manager, bustled over, her rich african accent think, her dark skin glowed in the afternoon sun.

"Oh, just leave me in here to die!" Leander's shaky voice sounded extra melodramatic, echoing slightly from inside the plastic bucket that covered his head. All the young man could think was How could this have happened? The fates were certainly against him today. He should stay right here, in this spot, before he took another wrong step and exploded a hidden landmine, or something of that sort. Leander's head drooped down, the Bucket Of Shame still masking his identity, thank heavens. He felt completely awful, at this point, too awful to begin to think about his soaked clothing or how dreadful his hair must look. Leander thought of his poor filly Celandine, her long gangly legs all bent up and twisted beneath her, her big blue eyes all wide and staring straight into his soul. Oh, she was dead! This was it! She was dead! Or worse! How could this have happened?

Just as the man began to hyperventilate again, he felt a cautious nudge at the back of his neck, then a familiar nipping at the back of his hair from under the bucket, and finally, a thunk! and the bucket flew from his head.

"CELANDINE! Ohhhhhh!" Leander shouted, a big grin of complete relief spread wide across his face. The man twisted himself around and threw his arms over the little bay filly's neck. "I thought I had killed you!" he wailed, right into Celandine's ear. This sort of squealing and hugging must have been normal for the young horse, because, rather than being frightened by her owner's screeches and wails, the filly actually seemed comforted by them.

Once Leander was quite finished with his outburst, he twisted himself back around, slowly, to face the people who had brought him here. The man hadn't really thought of it before, but they must have drug both he and Celandine out of his truck and out to here. Where was here, anyway? The white-haired man glanced around. A pasture?! The man's eyes burned for a moment with a sudden aggravation. These hicks had brought him to a pasture and, yes! Wait, they had dumped a bucket of water on him?! He was passed out! What if he had choked? Drowned? What if Celandine had eaten a poisonus plant? What if she had stepped on a broken piece of fence? This was hardly the kind of service he expected of the great Taking Back Romance stables. Leander furrowed his brows, and glared down at his favorite pair of pants, completely muddy and grass-stained. This must not be the right place. He had done extensive research on all the stables throughout this part of the continent. Not once did TBR mention on their website that new arrivals recieve a complimentary bucket of water to the head.

Of course, Leander thought logically, sitting up a little straighter. He wasn't a new arrival. He was some stranger, an extremely fashionable stranger, who just happened to crash his truck and trailer through their fence. Leander supposed he could forgive them this unconventional welcome.

Attempting to look as regal as possible, Leander stood himself up. Drenched hair, muddy boots, grass-stained corduroys and all, he managed to pull the look off entirely well for just having used a baby horse as a towel. He extended a hand towards the closest person, a young woman with hair in dire need of a good deep conditioning. "Leander Edgin. New boarder here. I'm terribly sorry about the mishap. We don't have many dirt roads back in England."

"woah there," a slender blonde turned her dappled mare as Matt slid off to catch the falling man. From the trailer, the group could here loud whinnies and kicking, "There's a horse in that trailer, what did he think he was doing?" the blonde shook her head, sliding off the mare and tying the reigns to the fence.

"Anyone else coming?" Rita asked as her mare pranced in anticipation, "and be careful opening that trailer, it could be a crazy stallion in there!" she yelled, rounding the mare to keep Preach, their silver black stallion from galloping down her side of the lane.

"Yes ma'am, William and Joshua are tackin up Clyde to bring some supplied down and fix the fence. My sister's out shoppin ma'am." Matt answered, struggling to get the man on the dappled mares back.

"It's a foal and she's scared to death," Charlotte cooed as she let down the ramp to the trailer.

"Alright," Rita huffed as she stayed her mare and Mel circled the stallions, Bryan working to drive them up to the stable. "Be careful and get her into one of the mare paddocks, Matt..." she looked at the man and tutted, "I guess you can put him with his foal, I'm in a rather inhospitable mood."

The tall, dark haired man on the red dun chuckled, "You're always in an inhospitable mood Rita," he winked, nudging his mare after the stallions. Bryan chuckled and leaned over to kiss his wife before trotting after the Mel.

Rita gave a small smile as she trotted after them, "I still want him in the paddock!" she shouted

Charlotte laughed and lead the foal from the trailer, "Come one Matt, let's bring that sorry sap up the road shall we?"

"Sorry sap? I dunno, I think he's kinda cute." Matt replied as he untied the dappled mare and followed Charlotte.

"Hey, you can't just leave with a horse still in the paddock and the fence broke," A sandy haired man flicked the riegns as he passed Charlotte and Matt.

"No worries it's just Smallville, he won't go anywhere and you know it Will," Charlotte jested, as they made it up the drive and opened the gate to a small paddock.

"Oh, if that's all," Will smiled as they trotted down the drive way.

"Are we just goin to wait for him to wake up?" Mattew asked as he dropped the man next to the foal.

"Course not," Charlotte grinned. She grabbed a bucket and filled it from the faucet, "Sorry, but it's time to wake up cutiepie." She dumped the water on the pale haired man.

Buy a truck, they said. It's a real manly man's vehicle, they said.

He should have gone with the Prius.

Leander's heart was beating wildly in his chest. His legs were immovable, both feet slammed down hard on the brake pedal (which he could barely reach with his toes). The young man's delicate fingers gripped the steering wheel so tight they turned even paler than usual. But this wasn't usual, was it? Driving wasn't usual, let alone driving on the dirt. Since when were roads made of dirt? Leander's eyes were wide open, staring straight in front of him through the windshield as figures of both animals and people raced back and forth.

The man couldn't comprehend what was going on, of course. The scene from seconds ago just kept repeating in his head, like a vision. He had been driving down the road, completely fine. Checking the map, checking his hair in the mirror, checking out all of the little blinky dials in his brand-new truck, wondering what they might be for, when all of a sudden, bam!, there was the turn-in to the driveway, and then, whoosh!, the truck slid to the right. Then, bump! crack! whinny! Right into the fence he went.

A woman's voice broke the man out of his deer-in-the-headlights trance, as she came galloping forward, full speed. Leander's eyes widened even more, if that were possible, and as quickly as he could, he put the truck in park and jumped down to the ground. He winced and nearly fell backwards as the woman rode to a stop before him, suddenly realizing that, had the horse crashed into him, he probably would have been safer inside the truck. The man was still very much in shock, and, now that he remembered to breathe, was very much hyperventilating. "Who, are you?" the woman asked, but the voice he heard was far, far away. The young man mumbled some nonsense, stumbled forward a bit, and promptly passed out.

"You remember when we argued about those foals you bought?" The womans voice was soft, her hands tip toeing their way up a mans chest.

"Mmm, you are sexy when your mad," he leaned to kiss her, his lips grazing softly against hers.

"Er, I hate to interrupt ya Ms. Heart, Mr. Lockwood, but some idiot's just run inta the fence and a couple of the horses are gettin loose." The boy was just taller than Bryan, his mousey hair disshelved from the run up the drive. "Mel's already out there tryin to run em back in."

The man and woman turned, "What? How many?" the man said, heading for the stables.

"Matt, can you run to the farm house and grab whoever else is here? Have them bring boards to fix the fence." Ms. Heart nodded, shoeing the boy toward the farm house as Bryan came out with their horses.

"Sorry hun, no time for the saddles," Bryan said, giving her a leg up on to the buckskin mare, he himself leapt up onto the chestnut mare. Together they galloped down to the road where a young man stood awkwardly, flapping about as he tried to keep a few of the horses from escaping. "Look Rita, Mel's got the horses headed off, looks like 3 of them are out," Bryan grumbled.

"Go, help Mel with the horses, I'll talk to this bumbling baffoon," Rita snorted, turning her mare and leaving the men to bring in the stallions. "Knock if off!" she shouted, ridding to the fence and nearly knocking the pale haired man to the ground, "Shoo! Hya!" she shouted to the stallion still trying to escape as she blocked the gap with her mare. "Who, are you?" the red-head asked curiously, the stallion snorting as he turned away.