A/N : Obligatory stuff...The Discworld and its characters are sole property of Terry Pratchett; I do not own nor do I assume ownership of said property. In other words, it ain't mine and I never said t'was!
***
Miss Susan looked around with a little smile. There is nothing more peaceful, in her opinion, than the few moments in a classroom where every student concentrates on their work. She took in the neat little rows of bent heads and slowly pushed her chair out. The typical two or three children looked up at her, but her determined gaze at the Stationery Closet answered their questioning glances. Miss Susan Is Going to Check on the Pencil Supply.
Miss Susan locked the door behind her, feeling around for the box of chocolates. Of course she'd seen them, and would have seen them if the darkness had been full. But that wouldn't have been normal. Forcing herself not to rush, she broke the fresh seal with a fingernail and selected a chocolate, sighing gently as it melted in her mouth.
Headmistress, she thought. Madam Susan. She frowned. She had no doubt of her capability. Being Death's granddaughter ensured expertise in many skills required of a headmistress. However, they were exercised more fully by being a schoolteacher. Besides, she secretly relished the looks on the faces of her superiors whenever they told her, for example, that she taught her students too much too well.
There was a tug at the hem of her strict, black dress. She guiltily shoved the chocolate box back into its hiding place and looked down.
SQUEAK.
Miss Susan angrily snapped her fingers and reached down, picking the Death of Rats up by the point in its hood as the world around her went blue in timelessness.
"What do you want?"
SQUEAK.
"What's happening now? Don't tell me. Grandfather is going to twist his words just enough so I'm forced to help him save the universe."
The Death of Rats shook its head and motioned with its tiny scythe to the closet door.
SQUEAK.
Miss Susan frowned, walked through the closet door, and looked out the window. Frozen in time, some of the children were already pressed against the glass. A pure white horse stood grazing lazily in a patch of grass. Miss Susan looked back down to the Death of Rats, hanging from her hand.
SQUEAK.
"Fine. Just...fine." She looked back to Binky. As long as she could ride Binky, she'd go through with anything.
***
Miss Susan looked around with a little smile. There is nothing more peaceful, in her opinion, than the few moments in a classroom where every student concentrates on their work. She took in the neat little rows of bent heads and slowly pushed her chair out. The typical two or three children looked up at her, but her determined gaze at the Stationery Closet answered their questioning glances. Miss Susan Is Going to Check on the Pencil Supply.
Miss Susan locked the door behind her, feeling around for the box of chocolates. Of course she'd seen them, and would have seen them if the darkness had been full. But that wouldn't have been normal. Forcing herself not to rush, she broke the fresh seal with a fingernail and selected a chocolate, sighing gently as it melted in her mouth.
Headmistress, she thought. Madam Susan. She frowned. She had no doubt of her capability. Being Death's granddaughter ensured expertise in many skills required of a headmistress. However, they were exercised more fully by being a schoolteacher. Besides, she secretly relished the looks on the faces of her superiors whenever they told her, for example, that she taught her students too much too well.
There was a tug at the hem of her strict, black dress. She guiltily shoved the chocolate box back into its hiding place and looked down.
SQUEAK.
Miss Susan angrily snapped her fingers and reached down, picking the Death of Rats up by the point in its hood as the world around her went blue in timelessness.
"What do you want?"
SQUEAK.
"What's happening now? Don't tell me. Grandfather is going to twist his words just enough so I'm forced to help him save the universe."
The Death of Rats shook its head and motioned with its tiny scythe to the closet door.
SQUEAK.
Miss Susan frowned, walked through the closet door, and looked out the window. Frozen in time, some of the children were already pressed against the glass. A pure white horse stood grazing lazily in a patch of grass. Miss Susan looked back down to the Death of Rats, hanging from her hand.
SQUEAK.
"Fine. Just...fine." She looked back to Binky. As long as she could ride Binky, she'd go through with anything.