Author's Note: This is my oneshot trade with Eruthiel. Because she likes Annabel Curry. I didn't actually mean for it to be this long... It's all Annabel's fault really. She makes me get carried away. It was almost a lot longer.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the clutter in my apartment which I bought with a credit card.

Vimes stood nervously at the front gate of the Spiteful Sisterhood of Seven-Handed Sek Charity School. He was always nervous whenever he was even within a hundred yards of the Sisters. They encompassed that authoritative aura of Dame Slightly from his old dame school and that mild misandry that all midwives had without the understanding that males were necessary for certain things. And there were a lot of them. Then as if that wasn't bad enough, most of them were his age and born either in or around Cockbill Street. He couldn't really tell any of them apart and they always looked at him like he'd personally driven them to a life of religious celibacy and a really drab wardrobe.

The snow was already falling. Vimes lit a cigar to warm himself up. About a third of the way through it, Annabel Curry ran ahead of the Mother Superior towards him. For a very brief second, Vimes considered kneeling down and holding his arms out ready for a hug but then thought better of it. He put his hands in his pockets and gave her a crooked smile when she was close enough to see it. She looked up at him and twirled some of her hair. "What did you bring me?" She asked in a painfully sweet tone and very briefly batted her eyes. Vimes rolled his eyes and ignored her. He gave the Mother Superior a respectful nod as he dug around his money pouch for the two dollars. He handed them over then when the Mother Superior had left, he said quietly as they started walking. "What have I told you about using your wiles for material gain?"

Annabel shuffled her feet and recited in a reproachful and slightly bored tone. "'You gotta pay the dues at the Seamstress Guild first and I don't have that kind of money'." She smiled mischievously and then said casually, "You know in a couple of years I'll be old enough to join—" Vimes stopped in mid step and glared at Annabel. She counted to seven quietly and then they started walking again. He's getting better, she thought, used to be that he needed to count to fourteen at least before he calmed down enough. "I'm not paying two dollars a week just for you to end up a Seamstress. You have grow up to be very successful so you can take care of me in my old age." He smirked at the end of that sentence. Annabel raised an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. "When exactly did we enter that arrangement? Besides, I could be rich if I became a Seamstress. Or do you just want me to be copper like you?"

Vimes disguised that little chuckle as a cough. "I said I want you to be successful." They walked in silence until they turned right onto Treacle Mine Road. Annabel looked up at Vimes. "You're not going to take me to get an iconograph taken with the Hogfather again this year, are you?" She asked in embarrassed dread. Vimes shuddered. "No." He said flatly. "They made me promise to never take you to that toy shop again." Actually he had to a sign a contract to that effect… in blood and for a few months after, Vimes seriously considered giving himself a vasectomy, with a wooden spoon if necessary. Annabel permitted herself a self-satisfied smirk then looked up as Vimes took another drag from his cigar. "Since when do you smoke cigars?"

Vimes looked away feeling a little self-conscious. "Since… er… well, they…" He coughed nervously and glanced down at Annabel when she wasn't looking. Where to start? He'd always been careful not drink around Annabel. She probably didn't know he was a drunk and even if she'd heard, he still felt really embarrassed about admitting that Sybil had insisted he quit drinking and got him on cigars when he turned into a huge pain in the arse. Well, maybe she was old enough to know some of the truth. "I had a problem with… er…" Annabel interrupted. "Oh, they're so that you don't drink anymore, right?" Vimes stared at her and tried not to be too shocked. She was clever, actually she was too clever by half and drinking kills brain cells. He'd been an idiot to think she wouldn't notice.

He nodded in concession. "Yes. Sorry by the way." Annabel's brow wrinkled a little and tilted her head. "What for?" Vimes took a deep breath. "For drinking. I used to be a drunk." He finally admitted to her. "But I'm better now." Annabel gave universe in general a nod of approval. As they crossed the Misbegot Bridge, Annabel asked in that special nonchalant tone that's supposed to mean, there's no special reason I'm asking. It's just mild curiosity. But everyone can spot that the asker is desperate to know the answer to the question. "Did Carrot go back to the mountains for Hogswatch?" Vimes wasn't sure if he should laugh or be annoyed. The girl was nine years old after all. She's still supposed to think boys are icky. "No and he's very excited about participating in an Ankh-Morpork Hogswatch."

Vimes sighed loudly. "Why he's looking forward to being trampled by absentminded and suddenly desperate parents in shops and tripping over dozens of snotty kids is beyond me." This did not get the laugh he'd been expecting. What happened? Annabel used to always laugh when Vimes got misanthropic. He looked down and saw Annabel staring up at him with her arms crossed and pursing her lips. "Why didn't you say anything? How's it going to look when we get to Pseudopolis Yard and I don't have a gift for Carrot?" To Vimes' shame, his first thoughts were 'what the hell? She never cared if she got me a Hogswatch gift or not.' Through gritting teeth, he replied, "Well you're in luck there, kiddo. 'Cause we're not spending Hogswatchnight at the Yard."

Annabel actually looked stunned. She and Vimes used to always spend Hogswatchnight at the Treacle Mine Road watch house. It was a rather sad tableau. A bitter middle aged man pining desperately for alcohol waiting for a little girl, who was playing idly with a noise maker to go to bed already. Both wearing those little paper crowns and feeling stupid for it. But it was tradition. When she found her voice again, she asked very slowly. "So where are we spending Hogswatchnight?" Vimes cringed. He'd really meant to work his way up to this but he just kept putting it off and putting it off so he was in the moment he'd been dreading for weeks. He looked pleadingly up at the sky. Mum, I'm really sorry about scaring off all your 'gentlemen friends' when I was a kid. But in my defense, I was pretty sure most of them were bastards.

He cleared his throat and then coughed once or twice hoping the words wouldn't be too scared to come out. "Well… I… that is, we've been invited to…" This really wasn't the time to talk about Sybil. It was Hogswatch after all. "To er… Hogswatch dinner at…" Annabel gave Vimes a look with the patience of Oblivion. He very briefly prayed he'd drop dead right here in the grubby, faintly yellow Ankh-Morpork slush, anything to avoid this conversation. "At… Lady Ramkin's house." Lady Ramkin, why did he say Lady Ramkin? He'd been calling her Sybil for months. True, it was only in private and he still said it in a very hushed and slightly embarrassed voice. He waited. Annabel just looked at him for a long time and then shrugged. "Oh, that's nice. Maybe we'll have decent meal then." Vimes stared with his mouth open. "You're not upset?"

Annabel shook her head. "No, why should I be?" Well, I would have thrown a wobbler of epic proportions if my mum had told me we were having Hogswatch dinner with some 'friend' of hers. Vimes thought with a lovely blend of bitterness and shame. "I just thought maybe… you wouldn't like to spend Hogswatch with someone you don't know." He answered weakly. Annabel shrugged again. "She seemed nice when I met her. I thought real life princesses were stuck up." They'd almost reached the end of Prouts. "She's not an actual princess, you know. I think she's like a baroness or something. You need kings before you get princesses." Annabel shrugged again. "She was gunna be et by a big dragon." This seemed like a quite acceptable substitute to the king rule for awarding princesshood.

There was more silence until they were walking up to the front door of Lady Sybil's house. "Are you going to marry her?" Vimes' hand had been a few inches from the door bell. He was grateful for the darkness. He felt his ears… well, most of his face go red. He did have his sword… maybe he should give himself that vasectomy now. "Huh?" He managed. Annabel didn't appear to notice Vimes' total embarrassment. "You saved her from being et by the dragon. I think you gotta marry her. The hero always marries the princess after saving her from being et by the dragon. It's like it's the law." Here Vimes was on slightly more solid ground. "No it isn't! There's no law that says that. And Sybil isn't a princess and I'm no bloody hero."

Annabel considered this, completely impervious to the dirty look Vimes was giving her. "Maybe." She conceded. "I mean, neither of you are good looking enough." Yes, there is no better contraceptive in the multiverse than a conversation with Annabel Curry. Vimes put his hand over his eyes, muttered another apology to his late mum and then stared at the front door. He heard Annabel chuckle after awhile. "Funny really. I kinda figured that I'd notice boys before you noticed girls." Vimes briefly considered saying 'I started noticing girls way before you were even a twinkle in your dad's eye. I noticed girls before he did, actually'. He just gave her a quizzical look. "Care to explain yourself, Miss Curry." For once, Annabel looked uneasy.

"I just… well, I don't mean to sound mean. But the only women I've ever known you to talk to are the other widows and you've known them for a long time… so I figured if you hadn't married one of them, you'd never get married." Even in the darkness, Vimes could see in Annabel's face some guilt and under that some sorrow. She'd always thought that Vimes would just be some crabby old bachelor who'd keep an eye on her until she grew up. Then one day, she'd meet some boy and she'd get married, or she'd just make her way in the world and Vimes would still be a crabby old bachelor that she'd feel grateful to and a little sorry for. Little girls were supposed to grow up and move on and old men were supposed to be set in their ways and be forgotten. Not the other way around.

He heard a very faint and brief sniffle. No, she couldn't really be crying, could she? She hadn't even cried when he told her that her father died, she didn't cry at his funeral. How dare she cry now? Just because she thought that he might marry Sybil. It's not just marriage though, is it? You know. You know she's scared you'll forget all about her and leave her like her dad did. That's what you were scared of whenever mum would talk about a nice man she'd met. But what happened? You grew up, you moved out, you moved on. You left her behind and all alone instead. He considered telling Annabel what his mum used to say when she wanted him to understand. She always tried to reassure him that no matter what he was first but that well, he'd understand when he was older. He'd always assumed that it was just about sex and he just couldn't see how anyone could need sex that badly.

He wished that she'd have actually tried to explain it better. Maybe part of it was about sex but if she'd just explained to him that he wasn't supposed to stay with her forever and she just wanted there to be someone that was supposed to stay forever… No, he would have still thought that she was trying to replace him. Of course, he hadn't been as clever as Annabel when he was her age. Just for gods' sake, don't say you're not even sure if you'll get married. He handed her a handkerchief. "You got some of it already. At least you understand that one of these days you're going to outgrow me. You're not going to need me forever. I suppose I could wait until I'm sure that you don't need me before… you know. But most grown ups get really funny about commitment. Most women will not wait around for a nine year old to grow up before starting a family."

He paused a moment. He gave Annabel a worried look. "I don't really mean… having kids I mean. Just… having someone to come home to." Annabel groaned. "Oh gods, you're not going to have kids with her? Yuk." Vimes gritted his teeth. "I'm not… look… that's not… we're getting off the subject here. I'm trying to have a godsdamn heart to heart with you!" There was a long silence. Then some snickering from both of them and then silence again. "The point is… if you wanted to be childish about it, you'd probably win. Between you and…" He waved a hand vaguely behind him. "Any woman, I'd pick you. You will win. But you're not going to like the prize you get." Vimes took the cigar stub out of his mouth, dropped it on the front step and ground it down with his boot. "You think I'm a mess now?" He grinned a little. "Picture me twenty, ten maybe even five years from now."

Annabel tried to picture it. Old Captain Vimes, sitting in his sad little office in the watch house, slumped over his desk asleep because he didn't like going home to a poky and empty room. Of course, if Lady Ramkin had never come along, Captain Vimes would still be the Captain Vimes Annabel always knew, only older. But Annabel would win a different Captain Vimes. One that might spend the rest of his days wondering what might have been. Would he start drinking again? Probably. Annabel could tell he only stopped just for Lady Ramkin. She smiled suddenly. Lady Ramkin got Captain Vimes to stop drinking. She made him better. Annabel really didn't dislike Lady Ramkin. She really did think she was nice and she always gave Annabel the impression that she was very ready to buy her something. But if even if she had disliked her or hated her so much that she couldn't even breath when she thought of her, Lady Ramkin made him better and that was enough.

Vimes watched Annabel anxiously. He already regretted most of what he'd said. He usually regretted any attempts to act like a parent to Annabel. Once before Corporal Curry had died, Vimes had agreed to babysit Annabel. When Corporal Curry picked her up, Vimes said, "I think I ruined your kid, sorry." Curry laughed for about ten minutes straight and said that there was nothing funnier than watching someone who doesn't have children try to take care of children. Then of course, Vimes got angry and yelled at him because he did outrank him after all and it made him feel a lot better. So now, he'd just told her that she held the key to his last chance at happiness and if she didn't do what he thought was the right thing, she'd very likely ruined his life. He was sure he could hear Curry laughing at him.

Annabel smirked at him suddenly. "I know what you're doing and you won't get away with it." Vimes blinked. "Er… what am I doing?" She nodded at the door. "You're scared of Lady Ramkin. You're scared to get married so you're hoping that I won't like her and throw a little fit about you two so you can use me as an excuse." She crossed her arms and shook her head warily. "But you know what the big flaw in your plan is, don't you?" Vimes narrowed his eyes. "What?" Annabel sighed. "I know you don't like hearing it but you're not my dad. You're just one of my dad's old friends from work who promised to look after me. So you can't use me as an excuse to mess up your life. You'll have to do that all by yourself."

Then Annabel strode forward and knocked firmly on the front door. As they followed Willikins, Sybil's butler, inside, Vimes thought about what Annabel had said. On the surface, he knew that she was a complete liar and just made that up to save face. But she had reminded him about some rather cruel but nonetheless true facts. Vimes was not Annabel's father. Annabel's father was dead and Vimes had promised… mostly to himself, that he'd look after her. And he really didn't like being reminded of that. Whenever someone would assume they were father and daughter, Vimes would smile a little and then very gently correct them sometimes.

Then of course, there was Vimes' wonderful talent of tripping himself up just as he was getting somewhere. Maybe there really was some of that in there too. They walked into the dining room. Sybil was still setting the long dining room table. There was hardly any free space on it. She looked up and her face lit up. She gasped and then smiled like this moment, this very moment was the happiest of her entire life and she'd been waiting for it a very long time. "Oh you finally made it! I'm so glad. Sit down, sit down. I'm almost done setting the table." She nudged Vimes and Annabel into some chairs then went back into the kitchen. Annabel leaned towards Vimes and out of the corner of her mouth said, "Now there is a woman who can piss brandy and crap plum pudding."

For very brief moment, Vimes thought 'Pfft, I wish'. Then he realized how wrong that really was and said, "You watch your language, young lady. I want you to be on your best…" He hesitated. "I want you to behave yourself tonight. Be polite, damn you." He growled but without much conviction. Annabel nodded. "Yessir." She sat quietly swinging her legs back and forth and then asked quietly, "Is she really Mental?" Vimes just looked at her. Annabel smiled. "Only, Mrs. Scurrick thinks she's mental 'cause she lives with lots of swamp dragons. She's like the crazy cat lady. Except with dragons" She whispered in that loud children's whisper. Vimes sank in his chair and tried to ignore her. Sybil came back to the dining room. They ate mostly in silence, then they opened some presents in the Ghastly Pink Drawing Room and then Vimes told Annabel it was time for bed.

"But it's not even nine." Annabel whined. "I don't care. Go to bed." Vimes replied. Annabel put her hands on her hips and smirked. "You're only making me go because you wanna canoodle with Lady Ramkin." Sybil tried not to laugh. She really did. For the first few minutes, she could have been coughing but eventually the laughter won out. Vimes was suddenly right in front of Annabel and glaring down at her. "Go to bed this minute or I'll send Nobby to pick you up from school until you graduate." Annabel glared back at him. "I ain't scared of Nobby." Vimes smiled evilly. "Straight from the Folk Dance Society, in his puffy pants and those little bells tied around his ankles." He paused for effect. "And he's not going to just wait outside for you. Oh no. He's going to want to go inside and meet all your little friends."

Annabel glared for a few more seconds and then walked upstairs in a sulk to the guest room Sybil had prepared for her. Vimes sat down next to Sybil on the couch. She was still laughing quietly. Eventually she said, "You certainly have a way with children." Vimes wondered if she was making fun of him. Sybil sat a little straighter and crossed her legs at the ankles. She suddenly looked so prim and proper. "I bet you'll make a wonderful father some day." Vimes' brain decided to skip town at this point. He pulled out a cigar and lit it. Vimes and Sybil sat in silence and eventually nodded off.