AN: Written only because there is nothing on Jeremy and Myria, really. I don't know, I personally thought they were cute together.

Characters and opening dialog Terry Pratchett

There were orders being shouted into his ears –millions of them. To finish what he'd started or to wait another week or to break all of his work to pieces in a shower of glass and crystals. Every single one of them was trying to force his hand, as they had tried to force his hand since he was a child.

And here he was a grown man no better off than a boy. This was what his life had come to –being ordered around for doing something right and being drugged until he couldn't think straight.

It wasn't his fault that he'd made a wild grab for Williamson's watch, and that he'd fought his elders so hard to keep it; it was knowingly wrong and it needed to be fixed! Wrong things needed to be righted or the world didn't make sense. He should have been celebrated, not sedated.

And now that he had done exactly as he was told, all this yelling could mean that they would give him a higher dose and further tamper with his work and concentration and life.

He couldn't let that happen, he just couldn't.

"I don't need medicine!" Jeremy roared, pushed the doctor out of the way. "And I don't need people telling me what to do. Shut up!" He stood and panted angrily as they stared at him; the only sound being thunder above their heads.

It took him a while to regain his composure, and he did so by smoothing his now disheveled hair.

"Thank you," he said, slowly. "Now, I hope I am a rational man, and I will approach this rationally. A clock is a measuring device. I have built the perfect clock, my lady. I mean, ladies. And gentlemen. It will revolutionize timekeeping."

Jeremy walked over to his creation and took a moment to take it in. It was a beautiful piece of work, and it was exactly what his life had been leading up to. He took a look at his pocket watch and adjusted the glass clock accordingly. He reached in and began the pendulum.

And, as he'd known it would, nothing happened.

"You see? The universe doesn't stop even for my clock." He sat down and folded his hands calmly in his lap. "Watch."

And, just as in his dream, the clock sizzled and glowed, but it ticked as gently as every other clock in his shop.

Jeremy smiled as the lightning rod was put into place. "This is just to make a path for the lightning," he told them with a smile. "We sent a little lightning up, and more comes back." He remained calm as the clock began to glow behind him. "Ah, the cascade has initialized," he said. "As a little exercise, the, ah, more traditional pendulum clock has been slaved to the Big Clock, you'll see, so that every second it will be readjusted to the correct time." His cheek twitched ever so slightly as he smiled. "Some day all clocks will be like this. And, while I normally hate such an imprecise term as 'any second now', nevertheless, I…"

There was a shock, and Jeremy's body jerked as if it had been struck with the lightning he had harnessed.

The first thing you had to notice was that it was now silent. There wasn't a single tick, there was no trickle from the clocks which ran on water, the Hershebian beetles were no longer scurrying about; there was only silence.

Jeremy, for all Myria knew, most likely never strayed too far from his home and shop; and if he did it was only for perhaps an hour. She wondered how long it had been since he'd had actual quiet like this.

If he wasn't already too busy hyperventilating, she'd have asked him.

"No, no, no…" He said, ran for his tools. "It couldn't have gone wrong…!" He grabbed a screwdriver to open the case, only to have it pulled out of his hand.

"That is enough," Mr. White said, "Your service is no longer necessary."

"But it's stopped," Jeremy insisted desperately. "I need to make the adjustments…! Igor, we…!" He turned his head and froze. "Why… why isn't he…?" He began to hyperventilate again, made a grab for the screwdriver. "It will only take me a minute."

Mr. White struck Jeremy in the head with the handle of the screwdriver, sent him sliding across the floor. Blood slowly trickled from under the hairline as Jeremy's eyes closed.

Mr. White tossed the screwdriver to the side. "Let's begin. We have a lot to do before we head off."

"I should… make sure he can't interfere with us," Myria said as she looked at the still body on the floor.

"Be quick about it," Mr. White said, and led the Auditors out of the building.

Myria waited until they were gone before she kneeled beside him and shook his shoulder. "Mr. Jeremy?"

The clockmaker groaned a bit, his hand moved to clutch his wound.

"I'm sorry, your ladyship," He said softly. "I should have listened… It did need more testing." He looked up; his half-lidded eyes begged for forgiveness, "I will have it fixed by the end of the week.

"No, it works perfectly," she said, smiled a bit despite herself.

He made the attempt to get up, "I need to make more adjustments, I just can't… I can't…" His jaw quivered as he gave up on standing and curled into himself. "I can't."

Myria's hand began to smooth his hair by its own accord; her mouth shushed his tears gently. He didn't seem to hear her, or at least didn't stop long enough to acknowledge it, but still she continued. "You did exactly as we asked you to. It was perfect."

He curled up even more.

"Perhaps you need rest," she said. "Come."

Jeremy, without being much help, allowed her to bring him to his feet and lead him to his bed. His unsteady legs let him collapse upon it.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I… I am sorry."

"There's no need to be," she told him.

Jeremy made a move, bringing his face closer to hers. In confusion, she pulled away from him. This must have been the wrong thing to do, as he shrunk back and sighed dejectedly.

"I am sorry… I shouldn't have."

Myria frowned as he laid his head upon the hard pillow.

"I just… need a little sleep, I'm not thinking clearly," he told her, his eyes barely open. "I hope to see you when I wake." Moments later, he was out.

Myria watched him sleep as she began to wrap the scarf around her face. There would need to be a lot done before he woke, but hopefully she would be back. She didn't want to disappoint him for the second time that day.

But he looked so innocent and calm as he slept –so unlike the screaming, crazed man she's seen only minutes ago. It made her want to stay and take in this temporary peace, but she knew there was no way.

"We're so close… any passage might do," he muttered in his sleep as he turned over.

Myria touched his cheek gently before she headed off to find the others.