A/N: Alright, so trying to run two Discworld stories at the same time is a little enterprising. But after reading Thud!, I have just fallen in love with Young Sam.

So, they have faced furious dragons, gonnes, D'regs and golems. Now, let us see how Sergeant Fred Colon and Corporal Nbby Nobbs cope with the most dangerous task of all...babysitting Young Sam Vimes...

"Bugger, bugger, BLAST, bugger!"

Captain Carrot looked up from where he was sitting at his desk and pushed the cushion he was sitting on towards the bottom of the stairs a second before the blurred form of Commander Samuel Vimes, Duke, toppled gracefully down the stairs.

"Protocol? Protocol! I'll show them protocol! I'll give them protocol right up the –"

"Good morning, sir."

Vimes broke off awkwardly as he saw Carrot beaming at him, "Oh. Morning Captain. All ready and set for today's lovely meeting with the ever gracious Duke of Pseudopolis, may he take his 'diplomatic problems' with Ankh-Morpork and…and..." For some reason, Vimes always felt especially guilty swearing in front of Carrot, who had more innocence than his one-year old son, "And do something with them which I wouldn't repeat to my own mother."

The Duke of Pseudopolis (may he do something unmentionable with his 'diplomatic problems' with Ankh-Morpork) was visiting the Patrician on the grounds that relations between Ankh-Morpork and Pseudopolis had become rather strained. In the same way that relations between Winston Churchill and Adolf Hitler were strained. And, as per tradition and custom, and age-old protocol, all the nobility had to show up to this meeting. All the nobility. Including Dukes. Including one Duke, name of Vimes, Samuel, City Watch, Commander of.

"Yessir. All ready to go, sir."

Vimes nodded uncertainly. He had thought that Carrot's dress uniform couldn't have been shinier that when the Prince of Klatch had visited. He had been wrong. It hurt to look directly at Carrot.

"Sir, you're wearing the Watch Commander dress uniform."

"Yes."

"Instead of the Ducal dress uniform, sir," Carrot's voice held a hint of reproach.

"Yep."

"Alright then, sir."

Vimes sighed, burying his head in his hands, "Carrot, you don't need to call me sir."

"Yessir."

"I mean it, Captain. Don't."

"Yessir, of course sir."

Anyone else would be accused of being a smart-aleck. But you couldn't call Carrot that. He didn't know how.

"Carrot…."

"Sir?"

"Carrot, if you don't stop calling me 'sir', I shall personally find a new place for you to keep that shiny Watchman's badge, do you understand me?"

"Yessir!"

Vimes gave up.

"Come on, then, Carrot," He sighed, kicking the Captain's desk and donning his cloak (1), "If I don't meet Sybil and rescue her from the dire clutches of Lady Selachii, all hell will break loose."

"Erm, sir…."

"Honestly, I've had to face dragons, golems, and insane mad-knife murderers, not to mention Lord Vetinari when he's in one of those moods. You'd think Sybil would be able to handle Lady Selanchii…"

"Sir, I really think…."

"It's not even as though she's a particularly scary wom…..oh shit."

Vimes' nuptial radar was working over-time. It had been flaring quite madly for the past few seconds, and now it was quite pleased to have got his attention. It was now saying, in a voice which just oozed 'I-told-you-so', "Your wife. Right behind you. Now shut up.".

Vimes turned round, slightly manic grin plastered on his face, to see Sybil, a slightly cynical smile on her face and one eyebrow raised, looking at him. She was already dressed, ready for the occasion, in her light blue dress, holding something with one hand.

'Definitely, a fine looking woman,' Vimes' hindbrain told him, while the rest of his brain muttered, 'It's a pity I won't live long enough to tell her that.'

"Sybil! You look astounding," Vimes said, kissing her, "Are you ready?"

Sybil smirked slightly. Vimes saw his life passing before his eyes.

"Perfectly, Sam," She laughed, squeezing his hand, "but I think you ought to know something first….."

And then Vimes noticed what Sybil was holding.

Baby Sam Jr, sucking his fist and gazing up at his Dad with a look of gleeful awe in his big blue eyes.

"Um….Sybil? That's a baby. Our baby. Babies don't belong in the Watch house, remember? Baby. Watch house. Baby, Watch house, don't mix."

"Baby and the Watch house will have to mix, for the time being," Sybil said firmly, "Wilikins has had to go home. His mother died last night."

"His mother's still alive?" Vimes exclaimed, "Until last night, of course."

"Yes. And I told him to go home. Poor man is overridden with grief, we can't ask him to look after Sam."

Vimes looked down at his son. His son looked up at him and dribbled.

"Well, who's going to look after him? I can't just nip down to the cells and ask a handy thief to watch my son for the rest of the day, can I?"

"No, dear. Don't get in a fuss. I was thinking, seeing as how Captain Carrot will be with you today," Carrot touched his helmet respectfully, "he can't help, but Fred Colon and that nice Corporal Nobbs won't be…"

Vimes had a sudden vision of Fred and Nobby looking after Sam.

"No. No-no. No-no-no-no-NO."

"Oh, Sam, they do mean well….."

"Let them baby-sit my son? Not likely!"

"Little Sam does like Nobby….He simply fascinates him."

"So do monkeys!"

"Sam…"

"And you don't see me asking one of them to watch my son, do you? Although, I will admit, it would be safer than asking Nobby Nobbs to look after Sam…."

"Oh, sir!" Carrot stood next to Sybil, eyes widened, "They do try, sir. And Sergeant Colon is a man of the world, sir, not to mention the fact that he's had children before, and he'll know what do to."

"Yeah, he'll know which direction to run when the baby starts crying."

"Precisely, sir," Carrot never could take sarcasm, "So Sergeant Colon will know what to do, and Nobby…." The Captain trailed off anxiously, before brightening up, "Nobby will be able to get a bit of experience for when he has children, sir!"

Vimes visualised Nobby with children. He shook himself.

"Carrot…"

"I understand that he and Miss Pushpram have something of an agreement, sir. And Sergeant Colon did say that he was quite fond of a young woman he met in Klatch…"

Vimes closed his eyes. This was all too much for him.

"Look, the answer's no, and that's that! Now, come one," He protested, as both Sybil and Carrot began to speak, "it's not just me, is it? They probably wouldn't want to do it anyway. It would be like punishment for them."

As the three of them stopped talking, they could hear voices coming from the canteen.

"What're we gonna do, sarge?"

"Well, I don't reckon any one will notice the money from the tea kitty's gone, Nobby. Won't be bothered with it, will they? Not with that big nob from Pseudopolis coming down here and all."

There was the sound of a quiet snicker, "An' poor Mister Vimes bein' in the parade. I can't wait to see 'is face when he gets down here, sarge, in all his finery!"

"Now, then, Nobby, we know he doesn't like it…."

"Yeah, but it's funny as hell, sarge!"

Vimes froze. Alright, so it was unfair, but….

"Fred! Nobby! I have a job for you to do….."

-

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(1) Actually, he didn't quite don. To don the cloak would be to sweep it around in the air several times, in a rather dashing manner, before letting it settle perfectly on his shoulders. What he did was, swing it across to his shoulders, miss completely, knock over Carrot's ink stand, and let it land in a rather sad heap on the floor. Then he had to pick it up again.

A/N: I actually feel kinda sorry for them. Actually, no. I feel more sorry for Young Sam.

Anyway...review! And, of course, eat chocolate.

It's just one of those things you have to do.