A/N: I love the Discworld series. And I particularly love the Night Watch. So how could I not write about them?

Ok. If anyone has read Jingo, the 21st of the series, one of the scenes that will stick in your mind is Nobby having to dress as a woman, and meeting a group of women. One of which would be a nice young woman, name of Bana, who is the first to approach him. A little while later, the Night Watch have to go back to Klatch with Lord Vetiniari. Trouble and almost-romance will ensue...

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Sergeant Frederick Colon, affectionately nicknamed 'Fred', 'sarge' or 'that fat idiot' by his friends, had known from the moment he had woken up that today was not going to be a good day. His wife had been particularly cool with him (the note she had written him practically dripped ice), he'd had to resort to eating one of Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler's new, experimental line of Lizard Rolls for breakfast, Nobby had managed to pilfer his watch, his cup of coffee and five dollars from him, and he was on Shade patrol for the next week. But the look on Vimes' face when he stormed in was enough to make those things look like the highlights of his day.

"Erm...Evening Commander..."

Vimes whirled round and glared at him.

Colon let out a squeak. That is, he didn't exactly squeak, no matter how many times Nobby confirmed that he had, in fact, squeaked, but an alarmed, pathetic sort of whine escaped from his mouth, and his face took on the expression worn by men when their wives have got home after a weekend away and seen the mess of the house.

"The High Guard!" Vimes snarled, "The Lord Vetinari's High Bloody Guard!"

Nobby, Cheery Littlebottom and Reg Shoe, the only other three in the room, all exchanged worried looks. These looks clearly said, "Commander Vimes is clearly mad right now, and either wants to drink something or kick something. Now, we all know how Lady Sybil will react if he starts up drinking again, so we should all assume that he will want to kick something, so why don't we all just get the hell out of here as fast as we can, okay?" The three of them slid off the desks where they were perched, and shuffled (or, in Nobby's case, sidled) towards the door.

They managed to get about a third of the way before Colon, in a bloody-minded desire to see that each of them suffered equally, reached both hands and a foot out, tripped up Reg, pushed Cheery towards a chair and grabbed Nobby by the scruff of the neck, leaving him dangling about a foot off the ground. Colon hadn't become a sergeant to let people get away from angry officers while he suffered.

Vimes was still ranting, "The bloody High Guard, I ask you! The High Guard!"

Colon nodded weakly, dropping Nobby on the floor, "That's….nice, sir," He said, not having a blind clue of what his commanding officer was talking about, "Why don't you just…"

"Nice? Nice! It's not bloody nice, Fred! It's a bloody nightmare, that's what it bloody well is!"

"Alright, it's a nightmare. Would you like to sit down, sir?" Behind him, Cheery hurriedly scuttled to fetch a chair.

"The High Guard," Vimes muttered, staring slightly into space, as he usually did when he had been given an unpleasant job to do, or had just had a meeting with Vetinari, "That's what we are. You, me, Carrot, Angua, Nobby, Detrius, Cheery, Reg, Visit, Dorfl and Diltrum and Kelphin. Whoever they are. I think Carrot's been enrolling men behind my back again, Fred. If they are actually men. Which I doubt. Who are Diltrum and Kelphin?"

Colon felt that he was being let down onto familiar territory again, "Kelphin is a gnome, sir…"

"What? Another one?"

"Yessir. Very adept, sir. Good at training sparrows. And Diltrum's a man, sir. Bit cocky in his own right, but I s'pect he'll settle down soon enough, once me an' Nobby show him the ropes."

Vimes cast a suspicious eye at him, "You mean once Nobby tries to push him under a cart at least six or seven times, don't you Fred?"

"Yessir."

"Hmm."

Nobby, who was now massaging his neck irritably, butted in, "What's the 'High Guard' sir?"

Damn, Colon thought, as Vimes' face blackened. Just as he'd started cheering up too….

"The Lord Vetinari's High Guard, Nobby," Vimes said, in a monotone, "is what we have joined. Non-voluntarily. As in, we-don't-have-any-choice-in-the-matter. As in, not-of-our-own-free-will. As in, do-this-or-the-Patrician-will-have-words-with-us."

"Ah," Colon said, nodding expertly, "He'll get sarcastic. He might even get ironic," The sergeant shook his head, "Might even raise his eyebrows, if we're really unlucky."

There was a pause as Colon considered this terrible possibility. Vimes, however, was fighting to keep the grin off his face.

"Yeah, well," He said finally, "sarcasm, irony, and eyebrow raising aside, Fred, the point is, we're it. The High Guard. Ordered to accompany Lord Vetinari to Klatch in no less that one week from today."

There was a brief silence.

"Erm…Klatch? We're going to Klatch? Home of those bloody towel…tow…. Very nice Klatchian people?" Colon managed to get out, off Vimes' look, "Salt of the earth. I love 'em. Brilliant people. But why are we going there?"

Vimes shrugged, "Officially, it's because the Palace Guard will remain here with whoever looks after Ankh-Morpork while the Patrician travels to Klatch. Privately, his Lordship says that he'd rather us accompany him to a foreign country than his Palace Guards, who mostly he doesn't trust but really can't be bothered to get rid of. Don't ask me why he wants us to come instead, I've always thought he was loony. And, personally, I think he's just doing this to annoy me. Starting to do that a lot, that man."

Reg Shoe nodded thoughtfully, "So….we're going to Klatch?"

"Apparently so, Reg. No imminent war or anything like that boys…and lady," Vimes nodded to Cherry, "Just old rivals dropping by to say hello, that sort of thing."

"But why's Vetinari goin'?" Nobby grumbled, "Can't he get one of those Ambassor…ambassa-wotsits to go?"

"Bastard probably fired 'em all just for this opportunity," Vimes snarled into his cup of coffee.

Colon stayed behind as Nobby, Cheery and Reg stomped off, "Sir, are you alright?"

Vimes sighed, still glowering into his cup of coffee. It was starting to get into a bit of a habit, Colon realised. Whenever a Watchman had a grievance, they glared at their coffee. The Ankh-Moporkian coffee probably felt more put-upon than any other coffee in the world.

"I'm fine, Fred," Vimes told his coffee, "It's just…going back. After being told my that bloody Organiser that I had an appointment to Die. That kind of thing sticks to you. Unsettles you," He sighed, as if a new thought had just occurred to him, "And I won't be able to read Where's My Cow? to Sam at night!"

He takes it seriously, Colon thought fiercely. Whatever you do, don't snigger.

"Yessir," He said, "Shall I tell the other Watchmen, sir?"

"You do that, Fred. And Fred?"

"Yessir?"

"This time, keep Nobby away from women's clothes, won't you?"

"Yessir."

"Thanks Fred."

A/N: Definetely going to be continued. Writing Colon is too much fun. And I can't wait to write in the character of Nobby. Kleptomaniac's are so funny...

In the next chapter, Bana has trouble with cooking, and Nobby makes a new enemy. As if he didn't have enough of those already...

Read and review! And eat chocolate.