Author's Note: Um, hello. I'm a newbie to the Disc, but I've been devouring the Watch as soon as I discovered it. And being the horrid little fangirl that I am, I got attacked by a nasty little idea, and like the Luggage, it wouldn't leave me alone.

That having been said, I fully admit that I have not read every single Discworld novel, and I'm fully willing to admit that this story has not been Beta'd, so constructive criticism is adored. In fact, being a fangirl, I run off reviews/comments/heck, I could use the flames too, I'm snowed in.

Watch Dogs:

Chapter 1: Who Watches The Watchmen? (apologies to Alan Moore)

There was no light where they met- their eyes were not their primary sense anyway, and they saw just as well in the moonlit streets as they would around a flickering lantern. They didn't speak in soft whispers, as conspirators usual did, for no one but their own could understand. And the only other who could, well, they had made sure she was in a different part of the city.

"She's a shame to our race. Why don't we just kill her? Enough with this cowering in the shadows, we're not vampires." The youngest in the group was showing his impatience.

"Fool. Even if she has deserted, she is of noble blood. And they would know we were here- and they would declare war. No, we must get at her another way. Anyone with a little more between their ears have a way?"

Another one, older than the first, but younger than the leader, cleared their throat. "If we cannot touch her, can we go after one she cares for?"

"Hard. She knows the risks, like any of us. There is only a handful that would drive her out. The old one…"

"-Is untouchable. He knows how to fight against us. And he is too close to the leader. The dwarf?"

"It always keeps silver handy. We may survive, but we could be identified if we're touched. No."

"That leaves her current mate. He is vulnerable."

There was silence in the group as they recalled him. A shiver ran through the older ones, and a rare emotion was felt; fear.

"Strong. Too strong."

"But he fights," snicker "fair. Surely we would have the advantage."

"He's not one of us. Surely we could take a single man?"

"Too much a variable; he may not be alone. And if he survived?"

There was a clamor as they realized what he implied. "No! Do not even think it!"

A quieter one buried their head. "One like that… given our gifts? He would be a monster!"

"Unstoppable."

"A demon…"

The bells marked two hours before dawn. They needed to disperse.

The leader nodded at the group. "We will meet again, soon. But for now, I think we can all agree; Do not touch the traitor's mate. We will deal with her when then the time comes. But we cannot take the chance of letting something like him loose. Understood?" He stared at the younger members of the group.

There a universal nod, albeit reluctantly from some.

All slunk into the shadows, ready to plot anew when the moon rose again.

The Ankh-Morpork City Watch always had people coming and going from its main office, complaining about this and that, or reporting yet another crime being committed. This wasn't hard; as Commander Samuel Vimes had realized long ago, everyone was guilty of something. Except maybe Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson; the only thing Vimes could really pin on him was Being Naïve Without a Permit.

At the moment, said Captain was sitting quietly at his desk, trying to actually deal with the paperwork that had managed to accumulate in a single day, rather than do as his colleagues did and allow it to turn into compost, dutifully ignored. Last week a rare plant only found in the most nutrient rich soils was discovered growing out of last year budget report on Vimes' desk. It had been promptly killed when this year's report.

The reports were forgotten for a moment when Corporal Angua, who, unlike Carrot, knew how to actually enjoy a day off, shot up from his bed, making a sound not unlike that of a cat hacking up a fur ball. Patting on her back, he waited patiently for her to catch her breath. She leaned on one of his broad shoulders, trying to shake the feeling of terror she had just escaped from.

"It…felt….like someone was walking over my grave. Something bad is happening, I know it." Carrot said nothing, but knew better than to argue with the werewolf. She smiled weakly at him. "Sorry. I'm ok now. What do you want to do today?"

Carrot brightened, and Angua inwardly sighed. If he had been like most men within Ankh- Morpork, they would have probably both stayed right there, enjoying clean sheets and newly oiled mattress springs (Carrot lived in the Watch house, and after a year of Understanding each other, Angua had decided she would not let everyone know when they were acting like the rest of the human race). However, Carrot wasn't like everyone else. Carrot always had a disturbing love of useless knowledge, and managed to find museums and places with Ankh-Morpork that really should have stayed hidden, if she and the rest of Ankh-Morpork had anything to say about it.

Still…she tried ignore the nagging worry that danced up and down her spine. Maybe getting out of the Watch House would be a good thing.

For her, it was as if the Shades echoed with an angry Howl.