Hi this is the first of my "Something . . . " series. I'll be posting them all individually, then most likely putting them all together, but as I wanted to get this up now I thought the chances of me being un-writers-blocked enough to finish them in the next few weeks are slim. Planning to do a lot of work over the holidays, then being too ill to be awake for more than five hours a day for most of it, doesn't help creativity! Anyway hope you like it.
Sergeant Angua was not amused. It was bad enough when she and Carrot had gone public, the comments and (the very, very few) wolf whistles this had raised had been incredibly annoying, at least until she had given in and let loose a growl which had reminded the unfortunate Watchman of the moment why it was that she wore a collar with her watchman's badge (and now her engagement ring) around her neck. But this was worse.
Inside her locker was a garter. A garter. A piece of ladies underwear used to a. keep her tights up and to b. catch males attentions.* And what was even more annoying was that the thing had been drenched in a sickly sweet perfume which drowned out any and all hints of the perpetrator . . . ah hem, previous owner. So it meant that Angua would have to use "old fashioned police work" to find out who had done it. As it was in her locker it would have to be a fellow watchman . . . or watchwoman. However while she wouldn't put it passed a few of the braver watchmen to put a piece of underwear in her locker, it was unlikely that they would own perfume that feminine. That meant that there were only a few other possible suspects.
Sally Von Humperdink
Cheery Littlebottom
Precious Jolson
She could pretty much strike off Cheery and Precious out of hand. Cheery wouldn't know a piece of underwear unless it was riveted and bolted, while Precious was too shy to do anything like that. So she had assumed it was Sally however when confronted the Constable had been upset to realise that someone had beaten her to the punch and ended up going off muttering** about "queue jumpers" and "not even decent lingerie".
This meant that Angua was now sitting trying to figure it out during her lunch-break. As she glared down at her cup of tea and cheese roll she ran the possibilities through her head again, who could it be?
"So did you like it? I hope it fits, I know you'll need something for the something borrowed."
Looking up Angua prayed that it wasn't who she thought it was. But it was. Nobby Nobbs, certified human and occasional cross dresser***. "Nobby?"
"For the "something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue" only mind you give it back it's one of my favourites that." Then with what on another face could be described as a grin, he walked off leaving a stunned Angua behind him. She was not sure which she was more horrified about. Was it the image in her mind of Nobby in garters, or worse, that from the glimpse she'd caught of it before she had slammed the locker door shut, she thought it very possible that she and Nobby were the same size.
( * And in the cases of some lady assassins to store weaponry that they did not want to be found.)
( ** In a very chic, and sophisticated way of course, she was after all a vampire.)
( *** See the book Jingo)