What Polly Did Next

by Hugger-Of-Trees

If Monstrous Regiment could be filed under “What Polly Did” this would fall under the remit of “What Polly Did Next” telling as it does the joys, trials and tribulations of our eponymous heroine, picking up in the year following the final paragraph of MR.

2. Autumn

A/N: This is for fledge, in grateful appreciation for all those reviews, each one bringing joyous light to a hard day's graft before the keyboard. It was a very good question you ask about certain people returning to a non-beneficial employment and one I could never answer fully in fear of showing my hand too soon. Enjoy.

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Autumn

Keys that jingle in your pocket, words that jangle in your head;
Why did summer go so quickly? Was it something that I said?
Lovers walk along a shore and leave their footprints in the sand;
Is the sound of distant drumming just the fingers of your hand?
Pictures hanging in a hallway and the fragments of a song,
Half-remembered names and faces, but to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over, were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning to the colour of her hair?

The Windmills of your Mind

Words & Music by Alan & Marilyn Bergman & Michel Legrand. Recorded by Dusty Springfield, 1969

~X~

"Oh, Go Bite Someone Already!!!"

As the raised voice of his Sergeant came bouncing down the corridor Corporal Ganzfield sighed and shook his head before returning his attention to the signal forms. Tuesday seemed to come round quicker every week.

It had been two months since the arrival of Corporal Maladict. Life at the fort had quickly woven the new troops into its routine. Mal had been sent on her first Patrol and returned with the vampire equivalent of sunburn and an open invitation to the guardroom's Saturday night Cripple-Mr-Onion game. She'd sauntered off to take up the offer the very next weekend, Polly's warning not to fleece them out of all their wages on her first visit echoing in her ears, and henceforth Tuesdays had become the bane of everyone's existence.

The customary drinking that accompanied the Saturday night game meant the participants used the rest of the weekend to sleep off the associated hangover. This left Monday full of empty hours for Mal to develop the details of whatever crazy plan had been thought up in drink and Tuesdays had thus become the day of reckoning. Tuesdays, pre-Mal, had always been a quiet productive day when Sergeant Perks had rejoiced in processing and sending off the mess supplies for the week. Post-Mal they had become filled with the need to avoid an over excited vampire with a plan.

After a few of these plans produced near disasters Polly had started going along to the game night with the intention of nipping any ideas in the bud before they burgeoned into anything serious. So far her efforts were having minimal effect. If anything the plans were getting crazier and Corporal Ganzfield had developed a suspicion that the card players were spiking her drinks. So they had adjusted. As each Tuesday rolled round again the whole castle braved itself for the next outburst of inanity knowing they would at least have something to talk about over dinner and breakfast for the rest of the week. In general folks had come to accept it as a bearable side effect of having Maladict around.

But today's outburst was odd; especially as Corporal Ganzfield knew their workload wasn't even that heavy today. Though he hated to admit it, Sergeant Perks had some great ideas for increasing efficiency and since the Tuesday Madness had begun to penetrate even the upper levels of castle life Polly had shuffled her workload to allow for emergencies. With her gift of knowing when to delegate, revealed more and more since the vampire had been popping round with tempting invitations for mid morning breaks at a certain coffee shop that frequently ran into long lunches, there wasn't even anything she was supposed to be doing today.

"Definitely surprising" mused Ganzfield, glancing up as Corporal Maladict stumbled past his door in a daze. But as one of the reasons he made such a good administrative clerk was his general lack of nosiness he put the problem to one side, returning to his forms.

~X~

Polly sat white faced, staring at the empty space where the vampire had stood. How had it come to this? She had only meant to fob off the corporal for a while. Time enough to allow her to take stock, to work out where their friendship was going. She hadn't meant this. Dropping her head to the desk with a thud she swore under her breath. It was all the fault of that darn pothole in the road up from the town.

In truth Polly had been concerned for a while now, ever since she'd found herself missing Mal those two weeks she was out on patrol. She'd caught herself wondering how it was going up there on the mountain, whether Mal was making friends. The relief she'd felt when she saw the Corporal had come back somehow released, as though the expanse of sky above had lifted a weight from her shoulders was understandable. No, what worried her was her response to the smile Mal had thrown in her direction as the patrol came wandering through the outer gate dusty and tired, comrades all laughing together. That smile that had caused Polly's heart to bound in her chest and warmth to flood through her entire body.

That had started her wondering and once she'd started she couldn't stop. She knew they were friends, a friendship where Mal was still allowed to mock everyone and everything indiscriminately including Polly, invade Polly's office whenever she felt the need to drag her away for an extended coffee break and generally disrupt her ordered yet miserable life. So far Polly wasn't complaining. She knew there were boundaries. Mal's mocking eyes kept her at arms length, and that was fine. But recently, she had begun to think there was something else going on. Mal's attitude toward her had changed, become warmer. Was it really just an evolution of their friendship?

Thrall was a dirty word she wished she'd never heard of. Vampires were famed for it, even amongst Black Ribboners, revelling in the ability to get what they wanted without any effort. She'd avoided even considering the idea when it first came to mind, but the possibility was there. Mal was a vampire and vampires were coded to thrall. There was always the possibility that their friendship meant nothing at all, and that was a thought that brought something akin to pain and a frightening clutching at her insides.

Not wanting to accuse anyone unjustly she'd been suppressing her worries for a while but things had come to a head last weekend when she'd stumbled over that damn pothole coming back from the pub and Mal, who had been walking beside her, had dropped quickly to her knees to check she was ok. Grasping the strong arm outstretched to lift her up Polly had looked up and it was what she'd seen that rippled through her mind now. The usually shielded eyes had softened into gentleness their mocking light dissolved into anxious warmth. Crouching there, the damp from the pavement creeping into her breeches Polly had felt a familiar cold fear clutch at her heart.

"I'm fine thank you Corporal." She had withdrawn her arm abruptly and clambered to her feet alone.

Only someone who knew Mal as well as Polly did would have caught that flicker of confusion before the shield was raised once more. Slipping back into her comfortable mocking persona Mal had turned to the others, waiting somewhat impatiently for them to catch up and declaimed:

"Silly Sergeant slipped and stumbled,

Skulking home from sinful spot.

If silly Sergeant had been sober…"

Mal had waved her finger mockingly under Polly's nose and the group, ever obedient, had responded with a chorus of tutting.

"Spinning Disc would not have stopped!"

She had then bowed graciously in response to their mocking applause and throwing an unreadable look over her shoulder at Polly she had linked arms with two of the gang and continued up the road.

Polly trailed behind them all the way into the castle and once there, as there was no explainable reason why she shouldn't, she had joined the card game that had sprung up. Nothing untoward had happened for the rest of the night. Nothing at all. And yet now that she was paying attention every little nuance seemed to hold great significance. She had taken her usual position next to Mal. She never played but it was her custom to revel in mocking her neighbour's cards and whisper a distracting commentary during quiet moments. That night something was different. Mal's closeness had been awkward instead of comforting, Polly all too aware of a leg pressed up against hers under the table as they shifted around to squeeze in another player, the nudges coming from her left suddenly unwelcome. And when Mal had gone to refill their mugs and leant over the back of Polly's chair to place them on the table Polly had had to suppress the urge to cringe away.

Mal never emerged from the Saturday night recovery period until late morning on Tuesday and over the two days grace she'd been given Polly had had plenty of time to think carefully on what it all might mean. So it was that when Mal had knocked politely at her open door, smiled when Polly had looked up and invited her to lunch, she'd said no.

Mal had blinked but accepted the change in routine. For all the army was boring sometimes in its habits there were occasions when unexpected hiccups demanded the full attention of the Supply Office. Not recently admittedly, but the possibility was there. Always ready to help the army in whatever it might require, Mal merely enquired if Polly was busy.

"Er, yeah."

"No worries." At some point a visit to Ankh Morpork had introduced the vampire to the vocabulary of Four-Ecks and she'd absorbed it like a sponge. "Do you want to grab lunch later?"

"Maybe, I don't know."

Ok, so Polly had got into the habit of taking coffee with Mal at Fouquets. And yes, they often ended up grabbing lunch at the same time. But did thatt mean she had to do it everyday? Mal shouldn't expect her to be always free to help her polish her ridiculous plans. The army was paying her to work after all, not sit around in cafés discussing the meaning of life and the role of coffee in the universe!

Polly carefully didn't thought about the current lack of paper demands in her in tray. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as Mal sighed, stepped over the threshold and leant in her most nonchalant attitude against the door frame.

"What's up Pol?"

"Nothing." Without looking up Polly reached for another file and opened it. It was a requisition form for stirrup leathers but she gave it her full attention Mal would take the hint.

"You should know I've got nothing planned for the rest of the morning and it's been said I'm very good at settling in for the duration." As Polly turned a page Mal added: "how long d'you reckon you can hold out for?"

The recipient of her question continued to pointedly ignore her. In the silence they could hear the rough tones of someone addressing the finer points of swordmanship with some useless specimens of humanity. Kettering was having fun again. Polly eventually put down the file, placing her hands deliberately on the neatly labelled folder.

"I was thinking maybe we shouldn't spend so much time together."

"Oh." Mal broke a couple of laws of physics by appearing to relax even further. "Any specific reason as to why?"

Polly looked down, uselessly shuffling some paperwork. She muttered something into her forms.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

"I said" Polly tried to find a better way to phrase it. "I said: I guess it's a bit odd."

"What is?"

"This!" Polly jerked an explanatory hand, the gesture encompassing the two of them.

"You taking a coffee break?" Mal's brow quirked. "I don't think I understand Polly. Even Ganzfield takes a carefully timed fifteen minutes at 10:35 and 3:20."

"Not the Coffee!"

"What then?" Mal may have been trying to help but she was just increasing Polly's frustration.

"You're always around and stuff!"

That struck home, Mal blinked and took a step away from the doorframe.

"I'm always around?"

"You know. Coffee breaks, lunch, invites to drinks with the lads, all the card games. It just looks a bit odd Mal."

"Odd?"

Yes. Odd." Polly snuck a glance at the very very very calm vampire whose hands were slowly clenching and unclenching at her sides. There was a rather long and worrying silence before Mal finally spoke.

"I Was Trying To Be Friendly!"

"Well it came out weird!"

"Then I'm sorry!" They were both shouting now. "It was not my intention to freak you out by the judicial application of mere kindness!"

An echoing silence fell between them as they both processed what had been said. Then her gaze on the paperwork as if she knew if she met Mal's eyes she wouldn't be able to bring herself to the sticking point Polly asked simply "Did you Thrall me?"

"NO!" Her shout startled them both. Mal took a breath and started again.

"You don't realise what you're asking Polly." She struggled to explain. "I don't do that. Not on purpose. I just… Not that. Not for ages and never since I took the Ribbon. It's like a human, well… to make you do something against you will, to make you want to do it, it's… I just wouldn't."

"I'm sorry." And Polly was, seeing now in Mal's eyes an old hurt uncovered and scraped raw again by her unfeeling words.

"Sometimes yes, they do stuff. But it's because they think I'll like it – I don't ask. I don't ever want them to."

"I just thought…"

"I can't believe you would think that of me!" Mal came back at her then, anger kindling in place of her previous vulnerability. "Is that what you think I am, that I'm that kind of person?"

"I said I was sorry!"

"Yeah. You said."

Mal had withdrawn somewhere Polly couldn't reach. They had argued before, many many times, over Mal's stupid idiotic crazy plans, over whether she should allow someone else to win at cards for once and at times long and exhaustively over whether they should have gateaeu or cheese for desert at Fouquets. And why hadn't Polly remembered that before? Surely one didn't argue with someone if one were in thrall to them. That gave her pause. Had she treated Mal fairly over this? Or just jumped to conclusions over a warming of her manner? Now was perhaps not the time to go into that however, Mal was still standing before her ice-cold, drawn up and furious. Now would be the time to apologise extensively, to back down and to do her best to soothe over the hurt she had unwittingly caused. But unfortunately Polly was a normal human being, not a saint of the first order (Saints in the Army having been Banned after one Joanne of Arcadia lost them the battle of Wounded Kneck) and the nagging feeling that she might have gone about this the wrong way translated into sulky annoyance. Thus it was that she heard with shock the words coming out of her mouth.

"If you're going to be childish about it…"

"Childish?" Mal took breath. "So, it's childish to think that perhaps my friends might trust me to control my baser instincts in their company? To realise that I would never do anything that might harm them?"

And that was when Polly had said the words that couldn't be unsaid.

Left alone at her desk Polly dropped her head into her hands, cursing herself. She hadn't meant to say it. Hadn't meant it at all and would do anything to grab back the words that had flown out of her mouth. She couldn't wipe the image from her mind of Mal's white face, shock etched across those prominent cheekbones. The flash of pain screaming out to her across the room before Mal locked all emotion away and turned to step straight-backed out into the corridor, the door carefully closing behind her.

What had she done?

~X~

The sulks that followed were legendary. Over the next week a mountain of paperwork was processed through the Regimental Clerk's office (Private Mahler found himself dispatched home when his leave application – languishing at the bottom of the pile for so long he'd forgotten sending it in himself - was processed and approved) and Mal found interesting new ways to get from one end of the castle to the other without passing by the supply clerks office.

It surprised Polly to find she missed the regular interruptions, apparently one could even get used to inane comments and distracted company should one be exposed to it for long enough. No matter. If one could get used to a thing, one could just as quickly get used to its absence.

She was staring out of an upper window at Mal drinking coffee dejectedly in the courtyard below when a cough at her shoulder caused her to jump six feet into the air and give out a maidenly scream. Spinning around she took in the sight of a tall menacing man all in black and relaxed, placing a calming hand over her wildly beating heart. It was only Sergeant Goldhawk. He withdrew his hands from the pockets of his long black coat (a known alumni from the Assassins School he had never come to understand the concept of uniform and no-one seemed willing to explain it to him) and stepped forward to join her in the window. She wondered for a moment if Mal would hire him to do away with her, and if so would he agree?

"You and the stuck-up corporal have had a bit of a divergence of opinion I understand?"

"Mwuh?" The look of astonished denial she shot at him was wasted as he seemed engrossed in the small figure sipping delicately far below.

"You weren't at the game last night." Polly had to give him that. "Plus it's a small fort"

"We may have had a small disagreement over a personal matter. Nothing to disrupt the smooth passage of day to day life."

"Well it's bloody well disrupting mine." He turned to her at last. "Make up for Pete's sake; he won pretty much every game last night without you to distract him and Kettering for one wasn't best pleased. There'll be hell to pay if he carries on like this and you know it."

He nodded at her and left, his piece said, his mind at peace once again. But after he'd gone she remained, gazing down into the now empty courtyard as she mused on his words. Goldhawk had the air of sizing you up in a way that said you could keep on being amusing as so far no-one had paid him enough to kill you, but should anyone come up with a reasonable offer you should really watch out for the very sharp blades you just knew he had secreted somewhere about his person. She liked him.

Having decided to be the bigger man (or abomination) Polly then had the problem of finding Mal. The castle wasn't that big, but as she traipsed along one long empty corridor after another Polly found it was quite large enough to hide a reasonably sized vampire should said vampire not want to be found. She eventually caught up with the object of her search in the lower kitchens, empty at this hour, brewing up over the stove.

She may have been quiet in her entrance, but the figure lifted a head before she got halfway across the room.

"I'm not talking to you Polly. I thought even you'd have the brains to work that out by now."

How did she do that? She hadn't even turned round! But Polly wouldn't allow herself to be distracted from her task no matter how unpleasant. She kept walking.

"Mal, listen to me for a minute please. I'm sorry. I was out of line to say what I said. I didn't understand what I was asking and now that I get it I need you to know I would never have thought that about you. I know you're not like that." The stiff back was within reach now and she reached out a tentative hand. "I am sorry Mal. Really."

The vampire must have known she was there surely, what with the heartbeat that Polly could hear pounding in her hears. But when Mal turned round she seemed shocked beyond bearing that Polly was so close, within arms reach. Her startled flinch and hurried step away hurt more than the cold rejection of her short statement of denial and Polly was left to look after her as she hurried away, the door slamming loud behind her in the empty silence.

That was that then. She'd ruined whatever friendship she'd had with the contradictory vampire over a stupid fear that she hadn't even examined properly, preferring to put her intelligence to once side in order to listen to her emotions. Once again she'd acted on a whim and once again it had got her into trouble. There was nothing to do but stick her chin out and take it, she'd made her bed and now it seemed she had to lie on it alone. Damn and blast the vampire, it was enough to make a girl cry, even one who'd got a reputation as a hardboiled sergeant in the Borogravian Army. Polly sniffed quietly into her sleeve, wiped her eyes thoroughly and went back to work.

And so it went on. Polly got up, went to work, filled out a mountain of forms into the late evening and then went to bed. She didn't see Mal and though it was a struggle she consoled herself with the fact that after a while the ache would lessen somewhat. Goldhawk gave her a look, but once the truth got round (from Mal) that some little pipsqueak of a dumb sergeant had tried to fiddle her way around an upstanding corporal of the Border Blues (Mal again) he looked on her with more kindness and saved the killing glares for a certain Corporal Maladict.

But it couldn't last, and one night Polly was awoken by a disjointed frenzy of knocking at her door. When she managed to drag it open (ignoring the pain in her toe from an unfortunate collision with the desk) she found a wild eyed apparition quivering violently in the corridor.

"Do you think anything eats wasps?"

Polly stared.

"I was thinking, all the other insects are probably running around in constant fear of them but they're only little, we squash them without even thinking, in fact I saw you swat one with a file only the other day, and I was thinking that somewhere there must be something that eats them, everything gets eaten at some point (or squashed with files) and Bob said that there was a tribe out in Howondaland that ate all kinds of weird stuff so maybe they eat wasps, but you'd probably have to remove the sting and that could be nasty if your hands slipped, and how would you catch them anyway? You'd need a wasp catching net or something…"

Mal ran down, a thought struggling to be heard over the sparkling fireworks currently occupying her brain. She frowned. "Why are you here Polly?"

"This is my office Mal."

"I know and it's a very nice office, very nice indeed, though you do spend too much time here Polly, you should be out and about more, you're always buried in paperwork with that paperworky frown on your face, scowling at forms. You shouldn't frown so much Pol. You've got a lovely smile you know, and it does wonders for the aging of muscles in the face, smiling that is. Why all this frowning and you'll be a wrinkled hag by the time you're thirty. I guess that's why I kept trying to drag you out to lunch, trying to get that smile back. I thought maybe a bit of fresh air would do you a power of good and of course you need feeding up, not that I was fattening you up for the eating, I mean we don't do that anyway – fat in the blood ruins the flavour, nice bit of lean meat is what puts hairs on your chest, not that you need hairs on your chest."

She paused, her train of through de-railed by unexpected engineering works. Polly was still taking in her appearance and so missed the chance to butt in with the questions that had begun to bubble up slowly through layers of sleep. Switching tracks to avoid the bus replacement service Mal tried again.

"Anyway, my point was, my point was, was something about how it's late and you shouldn't be working, you work too hard, seeing you here buried under all these files - it's a damn waste Polly that's what it is, a damn waste and surely you can't begrudge me the idea that perhaps seeing as you're stuck out here for the next million years you might not take too unkindly to someone attempting to make those years pass a smidgeon quicker through humorous conversation and ingenious plans. But evidently that didn't quite work out the way I had planned and somewhere along the way some wires might have got a little crossed."

Mall sighed. Polly blinked slowly. The hour was too late to even be early and she had understood exactly none of that. However, the cold striking up from the stone flags indicated that this was really happening; the vibrating abomination in the doorway not merely a horrible remnant of some dream.

"So anyway," Mal continued, no indication of any possibility that she might run out of bright inconsequential chatter anytime soon. "I was talking it over with the boys and we decided that someone had been an unmitigated ass and that person was probably me and I should perhaps come and apologise and stop this silly infantile behaviour. But then there were little cups of this amazing coffee flavoured stuff (you should try it, it's a taste explosion) and so we tried that and Goldhawk discovered that if you mixed it with espresso it made the little pink elephants turn blue and we had to leave Finchley behind cos he was in in-depth conversation with the statue outside the town hall…"

Corporal Robert (Bob) Finchley never could hold his drink, Polly thought sourly. A good lad by all definitions of the word, he'd been posted for being transparently honest and thus unable to overlook the repeated indiscretions of a Major's son despite pressure from above. For some unknown reason Finchley had decided that Mal was just a gentlemanly rascal with a heart of gold beating somewhere beneath that smart blue jacket.

"…but Sergeant Goldhawk took me for a little walk and explained some things, (you know, he's very persuasive when he's got little blue elephants prompting him with the bigger words) and I got to thinking that what with all these crossed wires and everything I may have said some things I didn't mean and yes you did say that, but perhaps you didn't mean it either and I never meant it to be annoying and I can stop."

She paused to take a badly needed breath.

"I'm not totally dependant on having lunch everyday, (it's not even like vampires eat) and I need you to know I never meant to overstay my welcome. But you make it so hard and then there were the game nights and I thought maybe… but I didn't mean… I would never do anything like that, not on purpose, I wouldn't do that to you Pol, I think more of you than that, I would never…"

Her train of thought completely out of sight by now the vampire stared dazedly at the ceiling before dropping her gaze to the half dressed figure in front of her. "There were beans" she concluded and stood swaying, her face a mixture of confused incomprehension and hopeful appeal.

"Mal, how much coffee did you drink?"

"I don't know…"

Mal's eyes settled on her for a second before returning to the disjointed darting up and down the corridor. The cold was bringing on the shivers and the two forces working in opposition looked liable to tear her frame apart.

"There were beans" she reiterated as though this might explain everything. "Chocolate coated."

"Oh Mal." The girl was 200 years old. You'd think she'd be mature enough to look after herself by now. Polly toyed for a moment with the idea of shutting the door and crawling back into the warm nest she'd been so rudely dragged from. But then, the vampire did look chilled to the bone. She'd waited too long in her deliberations and in the midst of her shivering a question not yet answered to her satisfaction cropped up again in Mal's pin-wheeling thoughts.

"Why are you here Polly?"

"I told you, this is my office."

"But it's night time. At least I think it's night time." She frowned, puzzling out the conundrum of a rotating sun and spinning disc. "It was dark outside when they threw us out of Fouquet's. You shouldn't be working at night Polly, you should take time off. You need to get your beauty sleep; you won't be pretty for your files if you don't get your full eight hours."

Polly held up hand to stop the flow.

"You are absolutely correct; I shouldn't be up at this time of night. However, unfortunately I am occasionally woken from deep refreshing slumber by vampires who don't know when to say no to chocolate coated espresso beans."

Mal swayed gently, the look of confusion had pitched its tent on her countenance and was now getting out the swing-ball set. Apparently Polly's presence was still unexplained.

"I sleep here. I have a cot that folds up." She looked down, embarrassed. "I didn't want to make a fuss about accommodation ok?"

This was not when she wanted to have this conversation. Before her, Mal continued to twitch quietly, but in a listening manner, if it was possible to twitch so.

"Mal, much as I am enjoying this conversation," (and that was no lie, after weeks of chilly silence it was heaven itself to have her blathering nonsense again, for all the cold striking up through the flags) "it's the middle of the night and I - being human - need to sleep sometime."

The twitch reformed itself around pleading eyes and she gave in. She couldn't really leave the shivering vampire out in the cold could she? Sighing she stepped back to allow her entry.

"You can come in. But no chattering" she warned sternly. "Pacing I can ignore, but that chattering is almost certain to bring on a headache."

Sliding back into the warm mound of blankets she curled up, determinedly ignoring the fact that there was a vampire not completely under control in her office. Drowsily she conceded that the light footfalls passing up and down were actually restful but fell into a deep sleep before she could examine why this was.

When she awoke it was still dark and Mal was sat on the floor, her back resting against the cot. At some point the vampire had obviously come to the end of her caffeine high and crashed out where she stood. Her shivering was causing the cot to shake.

"Mal?" The whisper drifted out into the darkness and was answered by silence. Eventually against the gloom Polly saw those tense shoulders lift on a deep intake of breath.

"About the thralling thing."

It was a version of the vampire Polly hadn't seen before, her head drooping between slumped shoulders, tired gaze watching thin hands clasping and re-clasping over and over in her lap.

"I guess I wanted one thing to be true. Just one thing." The low voice went on, tinged with sadness. "Out of the all the lies, the religious madness, the masquerade and the stupid false patriotism, I just wanted one thing to be real."

"It was real." Poll slipped an arm out into the cold to place a hand reassuringly on the now trembling shoulders. "I promise you Mal, whatever this is, this stupid version of friendship whether built out of a desperate need for companionship at the butt end of the world or just because everyone needs a sarcastic vampire disrupting their life and you're mine, it's as real as the cracks in my boots that you appear to be unable to ignore."

Mal sighed but said nothing further, her pose still scoring highly in "dejected vampire of the year" competitions. But after a moment Polly could feel the added resistance against her fingers as the woman leant back just a little into the hand gently kneading tight knots out of her neck.

"Are you planning to sit there all night?" With a wee touch of pragmatism they might get out of this without too much embarrassment to either party. "Cold stone isn't going to do anything pleasant to that part of you our good friend Corporal Finchley persists in referring to as 'the buns of steel'."

There was no response. But after minute or two Mal shuffled up to perch on the edge of the bed. Polly rolled slightly to keep her in sight.

"Are you going back to yours?"

A shared yawn shook the fragile cot and when Polly blinked her eyes back into focus again she saw the vampire hovering at the end of the bed, awkward in the gloom. Shivers continued to wrack the narrow frame and Polly compared the outer chill striking at her nose to the warmth wrapped around the rest of her snuggled within the nest of blankets. She shifted over, implicitly giving permission but Mal still held back.

"As a friend Mal, I am offering you a warm place to sleep, unthralled and in full control of my faculties, albeit a little sleepy."

"We've done it before," she added, her mind jumping back to that confusing time when they were all pretending to be someone else and she had first learnt how much she detested coffee. "You need to decide if you trust me."

Mal lifted her eyes at last from their scrutiny of the rough blanket her fingers were cautiously picking at. Polly held her gaze without comment and it was Mal who eventually shrugged and broke the contact as she bent down to remove her treasured boots. Shifting around to enable both to fit on the narrow cot they ended up with Polly pressed against the back wall and Mal perched as gracefully as possible on the thin sliver of hard mattress remaining, unable to move without toppling over the edge. Settling down as best she could Polly wondered if perhaps this had been the best option of the evening, imagining Mal might lie awake, tense beside her. But obviously the beans had more than worn off and Mal's breathing quickly deepened and lengthened until without any appearance of effort she was asleep.

Polly found it more difficult to drop off. She wasn't used to sharing a bed, Nuggan law didn't permit brothers and sisters to occupy the same sleeping space after their 8th birthday and with no sisters to warm her cot she'd got used to sleeping somewhat spread-eagled. Now she kept bumping up against bony outcroppings as she attempted to find a comfortable spot whilst retaining at least a smidgeon of space between her front and the back of the woman now quietly snoring beside her. Eventually however she managed to drop into uneasy slumber waking now and then as body parts came into close alignment.

She must have dipped into a deeper state of unconsciousness sometime toward the morning as when she did wake to full alertness she found she had thrown an arm over the waist in front of her and her nose was somehow snuggled into a the hollow where a neck meets a shoulder, with soft dark hair drifting into her eyes as she blinked them in confusion. Last night's bony outcroppings didn't seem as prominent in this position and as she relaxed back against her new hot water bottle she decided this must be the reason she had adopted it. Mal sighed and shifted slightly in her sleep to fit them together more comfortably.

It was at this point that the more sensible parts of Polly's brain woke up, took a swift look around, had a short but succinct screaming fit and galvanised whatever limbs they could establish communication with. Never had any sergeant scrambled so quickly out of a cot. There may even have been flailing.

Standing shivering on the cold flags Polly watched as Mal rolled over, stretching out into the space she had just left. Muttering incomprehensibly the vampire felt around for a moment and then gathered the pillow into a warm embrace. Apparently satisfied by this replacement Mal sighed deeply and seemed to drop back into the depths of slumber.

Polly found that it was simply too early to process any of this and catching a glimpse of the clock over the mantelpiece thanked her lucky stars that the army was all about routine. Though she might chafe against the boring regularity of army life there were times it could be a beautiful rescue. Routine stated that now it was the time that she made her way across the castle to get breakfast before those louts from Company D (who were on night watch this week) came down and snaffled it all. Therefore to breakfast she would go. Pulling on chilled breeches and shrugging into a still rumpled shirt she tried not to notice that her gaze seemed unwilling to approach anywhere near the figure snoozing quietly on the cot that took up half the office. Buttoning up her jacket may have been made more difficult by fingers that still shook from an emotion as yet unrecognisable but the only thing on her mind was breakfast.

Definitely breakfast. Just because she took a last glimpse through the door before she silently drew it closed didn't mean she was in any way thinking of the strange conundrum she'd left in her bed. She wondered if there'd be eggs.

The canteen was almost empty at this hour, the main population of the castle still either struggling to leave the warmth of their cots or impatiently awaiting the end of their duty shifts so they could get back to them. The walk through long empty corridors had helped her clear her head somewhat. It was perfectly normal after all, all animals huddle together for warmth against unseasonal conditions. Why, when Mister[1] had had her litter[2] in the Inn's outhouses the kittens had slept all muddled up together in a heap, sometimes even on top of each other. Her thoughts skittered away from that image as not helpful at all and she was glad to see the distracting figure of one of those responsible for her current situation.

Unsurprisingly after his date with the town statue Corporal Bob Finchley was nowhere to be seen but allowed herself a private grin as she spotted Goldhawk slumped over his plate sipping delicately from a large steaming mug of tea. She dropped into the seat next to him and deposited her utensils onto the table with a loud clatter causing him to jump and swivel a baleful eye in her general direction. Ignoring him, she dug a spoon into the kitchen's attempt on porridge and shovelled it on in. Goldhawk was therefore left to open the conversation with a "good morning" which she also ignored. He persevered. "Did the Corporal get to sleep eventually?"

"No thanks to you." She pointed a porridge-y spoon in his general direction. "Next time you decide to get Mal to apologise could you please remove the blessed idiot from any chocolate coated espresso beans before the point of no return?"

"I'll do my best." Despite his fragile condition he manipulated an eyebrow to express the valid point that if certain Sergeants kept themselves from large-scale disruptive rows with specific Corporals this state of affairs would not have to occur again anyway. Unfortunately Polly was not at home to Mr Eyebrow today and merely gathered up the remains of her breakfast deciding that a quiet morning in her office was probably the best plan.

Entering the office she found Mal still asleep and skirting the cot carefully she set her tea down on the desk to set about that morning's paperwork. Time passed, marked only by the quiet scratching of her pen and the sporadic sighs and rustling movements from a vampire dormant. Occasionally, as she placed a finished form in her out tray and reached for another Polly (released from the demands of high finance for a brief second) found her lips twitching into a fond smile. It was at one of these moments that Ganzfield came in and catching the tail end of her expression he swiftly drew his own face into a state of total blankness. She looked up.

"We'll go over those accounts tomorrow Corporal, I'd like not to be disturbed today if that's possible."

"Yes Ma'am." As he closed the door behind him Ganzfield breathed a sigh of relief that a) she hadn't noticed his almost betrayal and b) his Tuesdays would once again be returned to him and he could finally get his colour coded wall chart rota of absolutely everything finished in peace.

Some time later, deep in the projected accounts for the next quarter Polly reached for one of the reference tomes dotted about the desk and in the process inadvertently knocked a ledger off the untidy surface onto the cot below. Drawing a startled breath she waited for an angry response from the occupant but there was nothing. However as she stood and reached over the huddled heap of blankets to retrieve her property she saw Mal had managed to drag one eye open. The drowsy gaze drifted over the shins that were all that was presented at vampiric eyelevel.

"Not those boots again Pol, they pain me. A sergeant should not be out classed in her footwear by a lowly corporal." The force of her complaint was reduced somewhat by the yawn that broke in the middle.

"Go back to sleep Mal." Ledger safely returned to the desk Polly bent over the cot again to pull the blanket more securely over its occupant. "I'll bring you up some coffee later, but now I want you to sleep, ok?"

"Mmm, ok" and she snuggled back into the pillow closing her eyes once more. Polly made a note for the future about the compliance of vampires when half awake and returned to her paperwork with a smile.

Mal didn't wake till the afternoon, just as Polly was brushing the last crumbs from her blue jacket. Goldhawk had sent Finchley with some lunch and an apology, Polly waving him away with a jerk of the head towards the mound of blankets. Seeing the vampire start to stir she'd grabbed a pen and when Mal sniffed, stretched luxuriously and opened her eyes it was to see Polly hard at work.

"Good Morning."

"I think you'll find it's good afternoon instead." Polly put down her pen, leaning back in her chair to get a better view. "How are we feeling today? Little bit less hyperactive?"

"I need a coffee."

"I'm sure you don't, but maybe you'd best have one anyway." She jerked her head towards the implements laid out on the hearthstone. "Your stuff is over there."

Climbing from the pit of blankets Mal sat for a moment on the edge of the cot, running fingers through her hair. It astounded Polly, though she refused to show it, that when the woman eventually stood up she was pristine again, no sign that she'd slept rough to be seen anywhere the creases of her clothes. Blasted vampires. As her pen moved across the ledger in front of her Polly watched the delicate process of making coffee as Mal crouched in before the small fire she'd had Ganzfield lay in her grate. The familiar hissing of the coffee machine filled the silence Polly felt no need to break. Sitting back on her heels as she sipped Mal didn't look up to meet her eyes, then remembering some prior engagement she made her polite excuses and rose to leave. She paused on the way to the door however, standing quiet before Polly's desk so that the sergeant was forced to look up.

"Are we good?"

"We're good." Polly flashed her a smile before bending her head once again to the ledger.

But once the door had closed quietly behind her visitor she put down her pen and the smile broke out again over her whole face as she sniffed with pleasure the scent of coffee once again lingering around her room.

~X~

[1] Don't ask.

[2] Didn't we just request you not to ask? Look, just take it from us and never allow a child under the age of 10 to name anything that could be one of two genders.[3]

[3] What is it with what we are swiftly coming to think is an unhealthy spirit of enquiry? Ok, OK. So maybe I should have checked the sex of the rabbit first. But I don't see why this all has to be my fault![4]

[4] I'm not being defensive! It wasn't my mother that suggested we get another one for company![5]

[5] Oh, and I suppose it's my fault that your daughter is crying in her room now? Tell me, how else do you plan to get rid of them?[6]

[6] Well personally I don't think it's that much of a tragedy that Mrs Simpson at No. 42 isn't speaking to us anymore [7] [8] [9]. I never liked that woman anyway.

[7] Or that rabble at No. 37.

[8] Or the Henderson's. Yes I know they supposedly do the BBQ of the summer, but last year the chicken wasn't cooked and I got a very black sausage so pardon me if I don't think it's then end of the world if they never invite us again.

[9] As to her over the back – it's about time her kids had some responsibility and I can't ask everyone who comes asking with a cardboard box if their parents are ok with a new pet can I?[10]

[10] FINE! I WILL!

---

~X~

"Polly?" Mal swung a lazy leg as she examined the board laid out between them on the wide windowsill with an assumed air of concern.

"Hmm?"

Despite her best efforts, Sergeant Polly Perks, victor over a multitude of enemies with at least two armies on record as ground beneath her heel, was losing. Again. As yet she couldn't quite see this situation had come about. How had Mal managed to avoid her cleverly constructed pincer attack and yet still contrived to wriggle a piece deep inside Polly's defences where it was currently laying waste to her much needed reserve troops? She sighed, racking her brain to come up with a way to retain at least a smidgeon of her honour. Mal always complained that Polly was too easy to beat, she played by the book and the only times she presented a challenge to the vampire were when she chanced everything on one last insane plan. Admittedly it had only ever succeeded once, but what a glorious day that had been.

Not that a win:loss ratio of 1:87 was anything to be proud of, she thought soberly reaching out to move one of the more easily lost pieces – her hand pausing at the last second as synapses began to fire. What if she went left instead of right…?

The sun through the windowpanes beside them drew hard lines across the back of her hand, the movement through light and shade distracting as she pondered her strategy. Summer was taking its sweet time turning into autumn. Chilly evenings not withstanding, the season had not yet provided any evidence of its desire to progress further. With the welcome rays insinuating their way through her jacket Polly wasn't going to be the lone voice of complaint about this late burst of sunny afternoons. As Finchley had commented only that morning, if it meant a good harvest and a winter of full bellies instead of scrimping and saving, there was no reason to take it up with the weather gods quite yet.

"Polly?"

The Supply Sergeant gave a distracted wave as one would at a fly buzzing around one's head.

"Polly!"

"What?" She gave up on any chance of rescuing her light cavalry before the imminent attack swept them away and settled back against the warm stone with a sigh.

"Have you still got your sword?"

Mal had woken that morning with the certainty that it was time to for Part II of the long and as yet not fully thrashed out "Cheer Up Perks" plan that had been occupying her thoughts since arriving at the border. Admittedly the process of planning was restricted to those parts of her mind that were not taken up with vital pursuit of thrashing the lower ranks at cards, generally causing mischief and the ever tantalising hunt for the perfectly brewed cup of coffee. Bearing all this in mind it is of course understandable that she had taken longer than anticipated to get to this point.

Surprisingly Part I had come about without any interference from the vampire. Before Mal could put into place any of her "distractionary tactics" Polly had seen the benefits of fully utilising the wonderful Ganzfield. Without too much prompting she was now spending only the mandatory amount of time at her paperwork. This in turn had freed her up to be dragged, often unwillingly, into the shenanigans of the motley crew Mal had gathered about her from the odd assortment available in the Border Fort. The blessed day that Polly had chased Mal down seven corridors and up four flights of stairs with an iron saucepan had inspired Mal to declare Part I an unmitigated success. But the vampire was not one to rest on her laurels. It was time to instigate Part II.

Luckily she'd remembered that Polly had always needed a good dose of violence in her day to be truly happy and now, swallowing a secret chuckle, Mal waited to see her plan unfold in all its delicious glory.

"My sword?" Polly, wary after a number of incautious reponses to Mal's simple questions ran the list of possible answers through her mind before settling on: "You can't have it."

"Oh I don't want it." Mal produced the most reassuring smile of her repertoire, taking out three of Polly's squads with a single move. "But, as I was wandering past the exercise yard this morning I heard the drill sergeant addressing the new set of lads. Apparently it is our bounden duty as conscripts of this 'ere army to keep ourselves battle-'ardened at all times."

Mal's impression of the rough accented drill instructor was uncanny. Polly however, remained unmoved.

"I understand your boredom Mal, really I do." She brought up the rearguard she'd been keeping in hand for a counter attack. "Since your co-conspirators went out on Patrol you've been kicking your heels around the castle and I sympathise, I really do. But why me Mal? Why do I always have to fill the gap?"

Mal opened her mouth, but her pre-prepared answer was denied mid vocalisation.

"You'll have to find some other way to cause chaos. I'm not letting you loose with my sword. And that's final." Sergeant Perks folded her arms firmly, slumping back against the wall behind her.

Admittedly part of her frustration may have been due to the loss of her beautiful swooping counterattack before it even got out of the blocks - but still. You couldn't have a bored vampire running around a populated castle with a lethal weapon. She frowned suddenly at the intrinsic wrongness of that sentence. Attention split between the board and the annoyance opposite, Polly made a fatal mistake. If she'd had only left the conversation there Mal might have forgotten all about it (unlikely – but always a possibility). Unfortunately she was ambushed by her unhealthy sense of curiosity and asked "where's yours anyway?"

"I left it somewhere." Looking down Mal saw that the lazily swinging leg had halted in its metronomic movement and covered up the stutter by bringing the boot up onto the window-ledge as though to examine a small blemish in the leather. She didn't want to remember that dusty day. Let the sword lie where it had fallen, it had good company on that battlefield.

Polly was confused. Mal didn't have nuances in her speech; anyone would tell you that. And yet… She didn't know whether it was just because she was spending more time in Mal's company but as the weeks passed she'd come to notice small things that didn't fit, the occasional nonchalant pose that wasn't all that nonchalant, the witty jest that turned the conversation on a sixpence, sending it in a new direction without anyone (except perhaps Goldhawk who appeared to see everything) any the wiser. Few and far between these moments may be, but they were not figments of her imagination. So far Polly's only response had been to fall back on pragmatism, a technique she reached for now.

"If you're serious about wanting to do some training I hear they keep spares and wooden practice blades down in the guard's store somewhere."

"Want to come exploring?"

Mal had lowered her boot to the stone flags, half turned away as she asked the question and Polly frowned at the blankness of her tone. Whatever Mal's intention had been when she broached the subject, Polly's questioning as to the whereabouts of her official army sword had obviously driven it from her mind. And that was unfair, Polly thought. She didn't mind the contortions she was put through to avoid Mal's wilder suggestions, the arguments, the whining and pleading, the constant need to have a brace of excuses ready and waiting. But this winning as it were by default left a nasty taste in her mouth. Glancing down at the board between them, she realised with utter finality that there was no chance she could win and shrugged.

"Why not?"

Mal, head swinging round at the change in Polly's tone caught the sparkles beginning to dance in those pale blue eyes. Unconsciously the hard line of her mouth relaxed into the hint of a grin as those insidious sparkles struck up an answering glint in her own darker gaze.

"Why not indeed."

~X~

It took Mal less than a minute to break into the store, Polly keeping a discrete eye out for interruptions, a post she'd found herself in more and more often recently. Once inside Mal embarrassingly displayed the distressing vampiric tendency to magpieism, flitting from shiny object to shiny object, her fingers dancing along this weapon before fluttering to that with increasing excitement. Leaving behind the half suppressed squeals of joy Polly drifted over to a rack of practice blades. Testing each in turn she found the one that when hefted rewarded her with perfect balance and brought delight to her swordswoman's heart.

When Mal was eventually able to haul her baser instincts back under control she found Polly in another world, moving gracefully through a series of attacking moves, the memory returning to muscles long unused. There was something of the dancer in her movements, dust motes swirling around head as she pivoted and thrust, lost in the concentration needed to keep the blade swinging freely from one stance to the next. The deadliness of purpose couldn't detract from the beauty and Mal felt the minutes slip past as she watched.

Eventually the increasing rate of a thudding heartbeat broke the spell and conscious that she'd been staring Mal checked her impassive eyebrow was in place before breaking into slow applause.

"Nicely done Polly. Has our Supply Sergeant been secretly practicing in the deepest depths of the file store?"

"Clogston made me learn in AM." Polly halted panting, running a finger down the blade as the sparkle of sunlight caught here and there along the burnished metal glinted in the gloom of the store. "Apparently relieving one's tension on the practice ground is a good technique for getting rid of frustrations." She picked up the buckler lying beside the rack of swords and adjusted her grip as she endeavoured to remember the technique for moving the two together.

"From the looks of it, one might conclude you were pretty damn frustrated down there." Mal sidestepped a swing that she decided Polly couldn't possibly have meant. It was probably just part of the routine the Sergeant was working through.

"Clogston eh? I always thought she took somewhat of a shine to you."

That had definitely not been part of the flowing practice. Ducking, Mal gave Polly her most wounded look. It was ignored as Polly strode away from her towards the door they'd left open behind them. Grabbing up a sword Mal hurried after, calling for her sergeant to stop showing off and share some of this wonderful knowledge.

"For the good of the Regiment if nothing else!"

It had seemed so simple when Polly did it, moving with little excessive movement from position to position. Moving about the bare practice ground Mal attempted to imitate the actions she had observed and was surprised to hear Polly's stifled laughter at her efforts. Apparently, much to her chagrin this was something vampires were not born intrinsically able to do. Polly stepped forward to demonstrate and Mal copied as closely as she was able. As with everything a vampire ever put its mind to it was a most stylish effort. It was however not quite correct.

Struggling to direct suddenly disobedient feet and hands she tripped over her sword (most stylishly) and only by a great windmilling effort (a most stylish windmill naturally) managed to avoid introducing her face to the rough grass of the exercise yard. The goat that the drill sergeant kept to nibble the grass short looked down its nose at her derisively.

By the time Polly had stopped laughing; leaning against a nearby wall for support as she regained her breath Mal had cursed all blacksmiths to the 4th generation and was beginning in on dwarves and their occult wiles. She had also decided that plan or not, there was no need for any vampire with access to teeth and claws to ever learn this outmoded skill. But that was before Polly pushed herself off the wall, slid up behind her with utter confidence and placing a hand over hers on the hilt began to guide her through the movements, using the pressure of their bodies together to get her weight to move in the right direction.

"Pay attention Corporal." The voice was a mere murmur in her ear and Mal wondered vaguely what exactly she was meant to be paying attention to? The light touch of Polly's hand over hers? The strong arm about her waist turning her this way and that as they moved across the square in step? Through her daze she heard the firmly counted paces, Polly's focus completely on the best way to guide her pupil, enjoying this opportunity to pass on knowledge, to open up new horizons for an old friend. She fought to get a grip on her reactions. Polly's behaviour sprouted from pure innocence and Mal would not sully that just because it had been years since anyone had dared to invade her personal space so thoroughly.

Polly finally released her at the other side of the square and indicated the vampire should display what she had learnt. Mal failed of course. But the second demonstration was easier, no longer did her nerve endings scream quite so loudly about the warm heartbeat pressing against her back, and she could, albeit with the smallest corner of her brain take in something of the muscle co-ordination needed to create the flowing linked movements Polly did so easily.

The afternoon whirled away around them. Mal, once she had got the idea, began to link the strokes together, Polly only needing to step in from time to time to adjust her stance or direct her blade in a more efficient sweep or parry. Disturbed at last by clamour of the evening training group coming down to go through their more prosaic discipline the pair straightened up, feeling the tug of effort in muscles long unused. Hurrying to put away the swords before being noticed they slipped away unseen, not yet willing to explain themselves.

Walking across the wide lower hall Mal stretched tired muscles unable to swallow the small groan as a knotted bicep clamoured for attention. A snigger drifted up from the figure trailing beside her, but was interrupted by a yawn. Let the girl laugh. Once Mal's famed vampiric healing powers got their act into gear they'd see who was laughing. Of course, having been confined to uneventful locales for the past months her skills were a little rusty. But soon, any minute now, they'd kick into glorious action and this residual ache across her shoulders would vanish into the air. Any minute now.

Polly halted wearily at the foot of the stairs, assessing the obstacle for potential miracles. Still struggling to find the switch in her physiology that would take all this galling human frailty away, Mal understood completely. Somewhere at the top of that flight was a comfortable chair and a bag of coffee beans. She wondered if it was worth it. The steps looked very comfortable. What would be the harm in them sitting down for a minute, just to gather their reserves?

"If we stop here, we'll never get going again." Polly winced as she lifted a foot to the first step and paused, preparing herself. "It's only a few stairs. A short uphill stroll. We're Border Boys remember, scrambling up mountains is a walk in the park to us."

"I've seen flatter mountains." Mal grimaced as she reached back for her sergeant and together they began to ascend.

It was some time later when the door to the office opened and two figures limped painfully over the threshold. Relaxing into her usual spot by the hearth Mal stretched out her legs on the rug as she watched Polly lower herself gingerly into the armchair that had somehow found its way into the Supply Clerk's domain. A bag of coffee beans lay out of sight in the top drawer of the desk. Mal could smell it. Delicious, aromatic, essential coffee. She should get up, make her way around the desk, find the beans, dig out the grinder, fetch some water and brew herself a cup. She would. In a minute.

The quiet stretched on. Mal finally felt the trickle of renewal spreading out through her heavy muscles and stretched luxuriously, rejoicing in the return of responsive power. Sensing her change in mood Polly shifted in her chair, drawing up her legs up to rub at tired calf muscles. Bending a sympathetic gaze upward the corporal found herself on the receiving end on a rather mischievous smile.

"Same time tomorrow?"

~X~

"How many times Mal?!" Polly stepped back from the onslaught, lowering the tip of her blade to the ground. "Do you listen to a single word I tell you? You were slashing again; you've simply got to slow down. A swordsman works with efficiency of movement, we use the drills to guide the blade from one blow to another, from a parry to a death strike."

Mal wasn't precisely sulking, but it could not be said that the vampire was currently displaying anything like a receptive pose.

"Battles go on for a long time." Polly caught a glint of something behind that polite mask as some remembered knowledge flashed into life and then was gone. "Even you might get tired, especially with the heavy shield to manoeuvre as well."

"I don't like the shield." Mal hadn't meant that to sound as petulant as it did. "It's clunky."

"It's meant to be unwieldy; it has to be large enough to protect you!"

"Immortal." Mal shrugged dismissively. "And equipped with those speedy reflexes that allow one to dodge."

"Oh I give up."

Polly fought down on the urge to fling the sword at her opponent's head and instead placed it with controlled calm onto a nearby block where their discarded jackets lay. Turning away she set to adjusting the strapping on her hands, a ruse she had had to revert to many times in the times she gave over to teaching Mal the intricacies of sword play.

"Now this, this is better."

Polly spun round. Unnoticed behind her Mal had picked up the second sword and with one in each hand was swishing at the air experimentally. The glimpse of canine in a face of intense concentration added rather than detracted from the impression of murderous efficiency. But somewhat disconcertingly, fear was not the first thing that came to Polly's mind as her eyes wandered over that slim boyish figure.

"You'll want different drills for a two handed attack."

They both spun to face the interruption, seeing a thin diffident officer emerging from the gateway that linked the exercise yard with the rest of the rough ground encircled by the castle's protecting walls.

"Excuse us, sir?" Polly had noticed the bar on his sleeve and jumped in before Mal could express the enquiry in more forceful terms.

"I apologise for my inadvertent observation of your private training session." He approached them steadily in the face of silent opposition and having reduced the distance to something approaching politeness bowed his head for a moment as he introduced himself.

"Sub-Lieutenant Latimer, at your service."

They saluted awkwardly, conscious of their shirt sleeves and general air of disarray.

"Sergeant Perks." Polly nudged Mal and reminded of her manners the vampire added her identity.

"I find myself loath to interrupt any instance of sword practice amongst the midden dwellers that inhabit this isolated rock, but if the Corporal intends not to use the shield in battle he may indeed find the use of two swords more efficient as a fighting style. You will of course need to work up the drills first. They are somewhat different to those you have been practicing"

They gazed at him open mouthed.

"Plus I believe it would aid you, Sergeant, to face competition of this complexity. You still show some amateur errors in your defensive stance and could use some extra work on your elbow stiffness when disengaging."

"You've been watching us?" Polly ignored the stifled snickering from her left.

"Not regularly." He quickly denied any such impolite behaviour. Apparently having just returned to the fort from leading the latest High Patrol he'd been simply wandering the grounds. The sounds of battle had drawn him to their little corner and having overheard the corporal's interest in a two handed fighting method he'd overcome his scruples to interrupt.

"If you should like, I could offer some advice in this area. I have some knowledge of the techniques." In the dimming light Polly couldn't make out if that was a faint blush staining the thin cheeks.

"We would hate to take up any of your time, sir." Polly jumped to get in before Mal could deliver one of her crushing snubs but the corporal's mind was on other things.

"Excuse me sir, but did you say the patrol was back in?"

"Yes?" He frowned in confusion as the vampire jiggled on the spot before him.

"Permission to leave, sir?"

"Granted Corporal. Don't let me detain you."

But as Mal sketched a half salute and turned to gather her belongings Polly caught a glimpse of disappointment behind the tightly held expression. She resisted the urge to bolt after Mal.

"You were right sir; I have no idea how to teach anyone to wield two swords. Did you mean what you said? About teaching us the drills for a double bladed attacking style?" It was cheek to be sure, but the man had offered. "If you can spare the time we would be more than grateful."

The sub-lieutenant employed a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Don't pay any attention to Mal, sir. I'll talk him into it. It's just that the patrol is back in you see, and the corporal is kind of eager to catch up with some old friends. We'd really appreciate it if you could give us some pointers."

For a second she thought he wouldn't believe her, thinking she was perhaps pulling his leg, but he shrugged and came to a decision.

"I'm busy tomorrow. But the day after, should anyone turn up, we could at least try."

Grateful as she was Polly's internal clock had been counting up the passing minutes since Mal had vanished and the total was becoming worryingly large. Fidgeting in her turn she threw the Sub-Lieutenant a textbook salute and he allowed a small smile to escape his dignified control.

"Dismissed Sergeant."

"Thank you sir. It was nice to meet you sir. Goodbye sir."

She hurried off in the direction that the vampire had vanished in.

~X~

"So he wanders over, bold as brass and starts taking the Sergeant here to task for poor swordsmanship."

Polly protested at the vampire's version of events but it was all in vain. Mal had sat politely through the polyphonic storytelling of the returned patrol members as to various exciting events that had come to pass up on the mountain. Now, having grabbed control of the conversation it was her turn to speak and no-one, of higher rank or not, was going to take it away from her. She'd rattled through the many daring exploits masterminded by her in the absence of her associates, scandalously exaggerated of course, and received the scoffing cries as her due. Now, gathering the cards that Barnett dealt skilfully around the crowded table Mal expanded further on the mystery that was Sub Lieutenant Latimer.

"How did a master swordsman end up out here anyway? You'd think the old buffers at central administration would hold on to someone with skills like that."

An agreeing mumble swept round the table followed by a thoughtful silence as each player examined his (or her) cards and decided whether they were worth the copper needed to stay in the game (Polly had been allowed to play, as it was a special occasion).

"There are all kinds of reasons as to why a man might find himself encouraged to bolster the ranks of the Border Blues." Goldhawk flicked his coin into the pot and as he was the last in the circle the game proper began.

"Musta been a pretty solid reason to get an Assassin out here." Kettering, his cards a total bust, did his best to instigate to a distraction as he began to bluff heavily.

"Naturally, those of us left over from the old guard were somewhat persona non grata when the new colonel was rebuilding his staff."

"Naturally." Mal hid the smile behind her cards, sorting her hand carefully.

"So what did you do?" Finchley, his open face alight with curiosity leant in over his small pile of chips.

"I volunteered." The assassin shrugged at their disbelief. "It was either that or spend every waking hour checking over my shoulder for the incompetent goons the new chief of security would keep sending my way. The man was simply unable to take a hint. In the end I got tired of kicking my heels around headquarters with nothing to do and managed to dig out a sensible Major who was willing to negotiate. In return for my generous offer to remove myself from political circles they agreed to stop sending people after me. It seemed fair enough, a man tires of checking his boots for scorpions every morning.

They laughed and drank a toast to scorpions and conversation dissipated as the game became more involved. However, after the hand was played out - falling to Finchley for once with Polly's bluff failing miserably, the topic cropped up once again.

"Bob we know. A good lad was he, and will ever be." As the rattling of mugs against the table in mocking applause faded away Barnett leant forward and asked directly across the table. "What about you, Mal? Why'd they send your scrawny arse out here to plague us?"

"Nothing much." Under the table Polly felt the muscles bunch in the thigh that had until that moment been resting in quiet relaxation against her own as they all sat squashed around the small table. Polly nudged back against that tension and under cover of the general protest Mal pulled her mug toward her, staring into the depths as though she could find the story swirling somewhere in the liquid. Eventually she raised her head, looked around the table with that familiar self deprecating eyebrow and began to speak.

"Once upon a time, a very long time ago…" The vampire ducked as the walnut shell winged its way past her, landing on the floor in the corner.

"Ok Ok." Mal shrugged, leaning back in her chair. "It was somewhat of a long list that the very ugly clerk read out at the last court-martial but from what I recall through the mists of time it began with Persistent Insubordination and continued on through Disobeying a Direct Order, Disobeying a Direct Order on a Battle Field, Mutiny, Incitement to Mutiny and Striking a Superior Officer… Twice."

A chain of respectful nods travelled round the table. Polly, still in the dark, glanced across at Goldhawk for clarification but didn't get any.

"How many did he get?" It was Barnett who broke the silence again. A good enough soldier, if prone to questioning any order he couldn't see the full reasoning behind. It had got him into trouble when he'd refused to re-direct his patrol along a different route and lost every man, a mistake he had had to learn to live with. The kick that almost shattered Polly's shin shut her mouth with a snap before she could ask "How many who?"

"Half the regiment." Mal spoke quietly, unable to lift her gaze as she drew in a deep breath and continued "I was too far away."

Polly felt the icy understanding blow chill across her brain, only to easily able to imagine the impotent fury that must have ignited in that moment.

"Apparently racing across a battlefield to countermand the orders of one's Lieutenant to his face and call him a bloody incompetent into the bargain is not the way to improve one's career path in the Army. Who knew?"

What guilt was running through the tense figure next to her? Mal wasn't trembling it was true, but Polly could be certain that was only because Mal's muscles were under the vampire's most tightly grasped control.

"You saved half though." It was Goldhawk who passed judgement. "Half is better than none."

Hidden under the table, Polly felt some of the tension bleed out of the thigh pressed so tightly against hers. Above the wooden barrier Mal continued to distractedly stack her chips in neat piles.

"Where did you hit him?" That was Finchley, rising as he spoke to refill his mug from the pot warming on the stove.

"Broke his nose and cheekbone." Mal drank the last of her mug, holding it out in wordless plea. "It was one hell of a punch."

As Finchley passed around the table making sure everyone had a full mug to nurse, she settled back into her chair ever willing to relate the tale of a dust up. "He cried like a baby, blood, tears and snot running down onto his lovely trim jacket with the shiny buttons. The second time was at the trial. I only spat on him then. Ruined his jacket again though, which I think upset him more." She grinned at them before burying her nose into the mulled wine.

"And they sent you out here?" Finchley settled back into his seat, gathering the cards together for the next deal.

"Eventually. There were a number of minor postings, but finally HQ must have written to my Commanding Officer letting him know that they'd found the perfect blend of characters for a Cripple Mr Onion tournament because they sent me out here pronto."

"Damn shame for us." Kettering muttered somewhat sourly into his drink, comparing the pile of coins heaped high on the table in front of Mal to the small collection scattered under his hand.

Lucky for me thought Polly in the silence that followed. Beside her Mal shuffled her cards and sorted them into order before looking up wickedly.

"So. What delights shall we endeavour to employ that we may assuage the boredom of our compatriots this week?"

---

~X~

The eagle screamed somewhere above them and Polly stopped for a moment to catch her breath, foot resting on a handy rock. Squinting up into the pale blue sky she picked out the tiny dot wheeling high overhead and unbidden her lips relaxed into a smile. Hitching her pack higher she stretched tired back muscles, feeling her shirt peel clammily away from the hollow of her back as she watched the speck drift away towards the high peaks.

"Regretting you came?"

Distracted by the view Polly hadn't noticed Mal slip quietly alongside her but now drew her gaze back from the lofty heights to take stock of her surroundings. Out over the valley opposite the tree filled slopes tumbled down to the town nestling small in a curve of the road far below. Here and there Polly could pick out the track they had spent the morning climbing, wending in and out of view as it crept along the lower slopes, weaving around small walled fields. Ahead they would soon be entering the wooded tangle that reached up out of sight to take up their post as guardian angels of the valley for the next 16 days. Sixteen days of cold nights and damp mornings. She pulled her blue jacket up around her neck, chilled now that she'd stopped moving. Was she regretting this?

Down there were the grey confining walls, the piles of paper demanding her immediate attention, thousands upon thousands of dull forms and the sheer boredom of fort life. Up here… well, up here there was the eagle. Taking a deep breath of exceedingly fresh if thin air she adjusted her shako to a jaunty angle and turned to her companion with a grin of pure joy.

"Not a chance." She swung a lazy fist bump which Mal easily avoided. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Corporal. Not after all the late nights I had to put in to get all the paperwork for the next two weeks filed appropriately."

"I helped!" They fell into step together, picking their way over the loose shale. By the looks of it the track became a stream whenever there was even a moderate rain storm up here and neither wanted to turn an ankle on a loose rock.

"You helped? That was helping? Pacing the office night after night until I threw you out for being too-jittery-to-live whereupon you invariably slipped off to play Cripple Mr Onion in the guardroom bringing back a veritable choir to serenade me from the corridor with what you termed inspirational music? That was meant to be helping?"

"I may have been a little too imaginative at times I admit." Mal rubbed a fading bruise on her temple where she'd moved a little too slowly to avoid a perfectly aimed file. "But I was bored Pol."

"Yes, you said. Many times. Generally whilst I was in the middle of a very complicated mathematical problem."

Luckily for their friendship at that moment a shout came down the line and, reluctant to be left behind they sped up, saving their breath for the scramble. Sub Lt Latimer might be the closest thing they had to friends in high places and they owed him big time for letting Polly come on this Patrol. It would be a shame to do anything that might be construed as letting him down.

~X~

By the time the sun collapsed exhausted behind the mountains after a successful day's work the patrol had arrived at their home for the foreseeable future. A clearing had been clawed out of the surrounding forest probably by whoever had inhabited the remains of some kind of dwelling that huddled along one side. At one point a woodcutters hut, it was now nothing more than a collection of large stones tumbled here and there like the discarded building blocks of some giant's offspring. Polly's aching muscles looked upon the rough grass and declared it heaven. She didn't consider herself unfit, sword training against a vampire who didn't experience physical exhaustion was a good way to stay in shape, but she was ready to admit to a little fatigue. As the rest of the lads lay sprawled around her, easing tiredly out of heavy packs she concluded there was no shame in that.

"Alright! You know what to do!" Sergeant Kettering jumped to his feet and began to order them about as Latimer returned from carrying out private deeds beyond the tree line. "Turner and Finchley first watch, Tinsley and van Hoeffler second watch, the rest of you divide up amongst yourselves. Perks, you're with me." He jerked his head at a quiet corner of the clearing and hauling herself to her feet she ambled over as quickly as her stiffening legs would allow.

"You and yer monkey get the night watch, relieved at first light, 'k?"

"When a person beats another person at cards this act does make the said person an automatic member of the simian races." Mal had sauntered over to poke a nose into the conversation.

"Shurrup, Corporal." He turned back to Polly. "You keeps 'em awake alright? Make yer rounds, keep 'em quiet and if anything crops up - you call me or the Lieutenant sharpish."

"Right, Sergeant."

"Yer monkey can show you the sentry points and the OP."

"Yes Sergeant." Her elbow caught Mal under the ribs and apart from her small grunt of pain the pair stood in silence as he stalked away.

"That wasn't nice."

"You shouldn't let him draw you. What happened to being the superior vampire race and all that?"

"He annoys me." Mal frowned as she rubbed at bruised ribs.

"Then smile sweetly and pass by on the other side. You can always thrash him at cards again when we get back. He'll love that." An introspective smile drifted over the vampire's face but Polly nudged her out of the reverie. "Come on Monkey, you've got sentry points and an observation post to show me." She scuttled away before Mal could wreak vengeance.

~X~

Telling the tale in later years even Polly would admit that her first night as a patrol sergeant wasn't a rousing success. It had begun well, the sergeant trailing around behind Mal as the corporal attempted to familiarise her with their immediate surroundings. Latimer knew what he was doing; the sentry points were well placed, tucked away at quadrant points around the camp with decent viewing arcs for the sighting of any approaching foe. Sauntering out beyond the sentries they'd quickly come across the OP. Someone had carved out a gap in the vegetation where two people could sit on slowly disintegrating logs and have a view both up and down the valley and across to the mountain opposite. Squashing in alongside the two lads already settled into their watch she had passed round cigarettes, Mal striking the matches to get everyone puffing away. A minimal exchange of sentences sufficed to get the measure of her subordinates and Polly had left them to their surveillance having discovered that any length of time in contact with the damp logs allowed the transfer of moisture to the trousers of the sittee. Wandering back toward camp even the clinging uncomfortable of moist breeches couldn't dampen her mood and she'd been struck again by the overwhelming realness of the woods. Tuning out Mal's chatter she'd drifted to a halt, dazedly tracing the strong trunks reaching up to an unseen sky, the scent of leaf mulch invading her nasal passages to romp around her brain in exultant glee. Mal, recognising that in her exhaustion the bombardment of sights and sounds was almost overwhelming, stepped back to slip a supporting arm around her waist, encouraging her onward.

It was later that things developed a less professional tone. Having sat silently through the scratch supper Polly had willingly accompanied Mal on a checking round of the sentries. On their return (after dropping in to the OP to introduce themselves to the most recent watchers) they found the remainder of their troops had turned in for the night. Reeling from the rising barrage of snores that resonated around the clearing they'd unanimously decided to find somewhere else to rest their weary legs.

"I think I saw an outcrop just off the path to the OP." Mal accompanied her whisper with a shudder as an elephantine trumpeting drifted over the campsite.

"Can you find it in the dark?" Polly's night vision had been destroyed the minute she laid eyes on the abandoned campfire, an amateur mistake she was kicking herself over.

"Vampire, remember?"

Stumbling in her wake Polly had tripped twice before Mal took pity on her and stretched back a helping hand. With her fingers entwined in that firm grasp, a tug to the left or right guiding her over the uneven ground Polly found the going much easier. As they made their way warily through the impenetrable forest the looming trees overhead sent chill tendrils down Polly's spine but wrapped Mal in a comfortable blanket of gothic familiarity. The cluster of uncovered bedrock was exactly where the corporal had remembered. Her night vision returning, Polly scrambled up to find a welcoming point where a tired soldier who wasn't too picky about cushioning could sit comfortably, leaning back against the rock. Mal leapt lightly up beside her, settling into the solid stone as though it were the softest armchair money could buy.

"How long before we need to check on the sentries again?"

Mal checked an internal clock and wobbled an inconclusive hand. Relaxing into the rock Polly let her head fall back, the prickle of muddled constellations far above somehow clearer up here in the thinner mountain air.

"…so many stars."

"Yeah." Mal craned her neck upward. "There's The Shovel, see? And the three stars that make up The Obvious Triangle, also known as The Goddess Feeding A Goat And Two Chickens, and if you stretch you can just make out Conan over the mountain."

The only response was a quiet snore. Mal shook her head on a sigh and wrapping an arm around Polly's shoulders she tenderly guided the head of the tired sergeant onto a welcoming shoulder. Polly, bless her, had stubbornness in spades, but despite her best efforts every now and then humanity won out. Shifting under that amused gaze, Polly murmured something incomprehensible and snuggled innocently into the warm body beside her, unconsciously seeking to get away from the chill rock.

It was still early, the brightening sky restricted to a small area above the horizon when Polly woke. For a long moment she lay there, her drowsy mind slowly piercing together the hard rock against her hip and shoulder in contrast to the rough material against her cheek. How had someone managed to steal the roof off the castle without anyone noticing? She blinked confusedly at the tree-framed sky with the remains of stars still twinkling down on her from overhead.

"Morning." Mal appeared in her view, a cheery grin plastered beneath charmingly dishevelled locks. "Finished with my jacket yet?"

Polly shot upright, able at last to identify her makeshift pillow. "How long was I asleep?" Ambushed by a massive yawn she rubbed childlike at bleary eyes prompting Mal to paste another "adorable" iconograph into the scrapbook of memory.

"About six hours maybe?" Mal removed the jacket and shrugging into it gracefully, buttoned the collar up against the early morning chill. Disconcertingly the rough material was still warm in odd places from Polly's cheek. "You didn't snore, much."

"Six hours?!" Polly scrambled down the rock. "What if something had happened? What if Latimer had decided to take a stroll? What if I'd decided to roll over and fallen to my death?"

"Relax Pol. You were exhausted, you fell asleep, nothing happened and like any good soldier you woke up in time for me to brief you to that effect long before your relief arrived."

"Nothing happened?" Polly paused in her frantic efforts to remove any evidence of her extended nap from badly rumpled clothing.

"A quiet night all round. We're due a sentry check; you can do that if you're feeling industrious."

Mal waited for said industrious activity but Polly didn't move, uncertainty in her loitering. "I don't remember where they are." She flushed and Mal couldn't help grinning at her discomfort.

"Come on Sergeant. Let the ever helpful corporal guide you back to the campsite. We'll brew up in the age old fashion and provide our vigilant lads with a welcome cup of saloop to greet the new morn. You never know, this could be the one. I've always wanted a great big fish."

~X~

Midmorning and Mal was smoking, lying back on her elbows, her boots stretched out toward the fire. They'd been relieved without incident, no-one questioning Polly's description of a quiet uninterrupted night. The bustle of a patrol rising to a new day with associated complaints about breakfast was over and Latimer had sent out the wider sweeping squad to the first of the trouble spots on the list. The morning sentries had come in and gone back out again. It seemed everyone had some task, some place they should be. Except them. The night watch were not expected to make an appearance until the evening, but refreshed by an uninterrupted night's sleep Polly hadn't immediately sought her blanket roll. Mal of course never seemed to need sleep and so it was just the two of them, sat round the restrained campfire turning over the various possibilities for entertainment in low voices.

"We could have an explore."

Mal threw her cigarette butt into the fire and dropped back to hide her face in her hands with an audible groan.

"I'm sure I saw something between the trees further up the hill."

Mal rolled over, peeking through her fingers to see if Polly were in fact serious. Realising that she most definitely was the vampire rolled back again, resting her arm over her eyes.

"You, Pol will be the death of me." She heaved a longsuffering sigh. "How far up the hill?"

"Not far, I'll grab some rations, we could have a picnic."

"A picnic. The woman wants to go on a picnic." The vampire hauled herself to her feet, coiled grace in every movement. "I knew we shouldn't have let females join the army. They only lead to trouble."

"More trouble than the undead and their very pointy teeth?" Polly swung a bundle across her shoulders and strode purposefully toward the trees. Mal pulled a face and hurried after.

~X~

"I thought you said it wasn't far?" Mal slashed at another branch, the scabbard wasn't as effective as the sword, but she didn't want to blunt her blades on mere vegetation.

They'd been walking for half an hour, fighting their way through years of undisturbed undergrowth. Polly was still hopeful, but Mal had been grumbling about being lost for the past ten minutes. Luckily, before the vampire could test her theory that no sergeant could survive being dangled from a tree by her ankles whilst an irate mountain lion cub took swipes at her head, they stumbled onto a trail cutting perpendicular to their path. It was wide, if overgrown, and seemed to cut straight across the shoulder of the hill as though designed to take more than mere occasional foot traffic. Polly kicking at the years of leaf mulch underfoot felt her boot connect with something solid, and digging down they found old flagstones, the eroded groves of passing carts still visible.

As Mal replaced the disturbed soil Polly stood bang in the middle of the road, shading her eyes as she squinted up and down the track attempting to uncover its deepest secrets.

"Which way?"

"There's no difference." Mal shrugged. "Toss a coin."

"I'm skint. You're the one with all the winnings, you toss." The coin came down on the Duchess's head and they swung left.

After ten minutes of easy walking the pair rounded a corner to see the glimpse of piled stone through the trees. Hurrying along they came up on the base of what looked like one of the old watchtowers that were strung out along the old line of the border. They shared a glance of astonishment and then, curious as the next man, separated to work their way around the base

"I found a door!" Polly ran her hands over the weathered wood, the iron door handle long ago rusted away leaving the shadow of it over the latch.

"Coming!" When Mal appeared at her shoulder, she was definitely not panting because vampires didn't get out of breath, but an observant watcher would have to record that her chest was rising and falling just a smidgeon quicker with all the excitement.

"We should go in."

"We should?" Displaying unusual caution Mal tilted her head, listening to the creak that might be a tree against the upper stories, but could have been the stones themselves moving.

Her Sergeant huffed scornfully at her fears. "It's stood here for at least 100 years, it's not going to fall down just because we're inside it."

"Onward then." She straightened her shako. "Never let it be said a vampire quivered in the face of creaky death."

Polly reached out and pushed gently at the door. Absolutely nothing happened. It was a wonderful anticlimax and like all mature people before them they fought the giggles rising inexorably from deep inside and failed miserably. In the end Mal had to put her shoulder to the wood, Polly exhorting her enthusiastically and they both fell into the lower room with a crash.

"Floor's still here then." Polly rubbed an elbow that had taken a good part of the fall. "Indeed." Mal applied the same basic first aid to a hip that performed admirably in cushioning her landing.

"Might I suggest a little investigation of this 'ere building, Corporal?"

"I say, what? I believe that might be a ripping good idea you just had, Sergeant."

Clambering to her feet Polly held out a hand and hauled Mal inelegantly to upright. Brushing down her jacket to remove the worst of the dirt the vampire declared herself ready to explore. They soon found that the lower levels were not that interesting, being mainly empty rooms. Passing swiftly through the second level, affected by collapse at the rear but generally structurally sound, they climbed the final steep set of steps to emerge out onto the roof.

"Wow."

Polly could only agree wholeheartedly with Mal's comprehensive response. The view stretched from the distant pass at the top of the valley all the way to the castle and town far below. Gazing out over the wooded slopes they could pick out the high farms and tiny woodcutter cottages on the mountain slopes opposite. Many years ago some genius had picked the perfect spot for a watchtower and then employed some people of less genius but more strength to build this sturdy stronghold to guard the people of Borogravia from whatever might come over the mountains. It was a gift.

Polly pulled out her telescope and focused it on the castle, astounded to see she how much detail she could pick out amongst the crenulations. She handed it over to Mal, pointing out the speck in the distance but the vampire seemed more taken with the instrument itself.

"Nice telescope." She tilted it to read the engraving. "To Polly Perks, For the Things That Never Happened. CC." Mal frowned. "Who's CC?"

"Christine Clogston." Polly waited for the explosion.

"Clogston? Major-where's-my-jam-sandwich-Clogston gave you a telescope? What were the things that never happened?"

"She meant the war."

"Which war? The war I was in as well? The war we all helped with? Tonker and Lofty and Wazzer and Igorina and Jade and Shufti and all the rest? How come we didn't all get telescopes? I could use a nice shiny telescope."

"No. Not that war. The one that didn't happen. The one I went off to Ankh Morpork to negotiate into non-existence. The one that ended up with me being shoved off up here, thrown away and forgotten at the arse end of the world!"

"Oh." Mal blinked at the object in her hands as though unsure how it had got there and handed it back carefully. "It's a nice telescope."

"Thank you."

Turning her back Polly put the brass to her eye and scanned the wooded slopes below, attempting to pick out the camp she knew was somewhere down there.

"Do you fancy lunch?"

"I'm not Clogston." Polly spotted the movement of a blue jacket above off-white breeches through the canopy and followed it to what could be a small clearing. She wasn't ignoring any tactless vampires that happened to be in the vicinity, she just wasn't paying them that much attention, that was all.

"I never said you were." Mal settled herself in the shade of the parapet, next to a tempting sunny spot. "Doesn't mean you have to skip lunch though."

A loud rumble from Polly's stomach betrayed her. She sat herself a dignified distance from the sprawling vampire and received the hunk of bread with tight smile of thanks. Politeness was important. Lunch was taken in silence, but as Polly threw her apple core over the parapet into infinity the assuaging of her hunger pangs meant she was well on her way to being reconciled. Stretching out in the sun she was unexpectedly overtaken by a yawn.

"We should head back, your blanket roll must be more comfortable than bare stone."

Mal climbed to her feet, offering a hand and Polly considered it carefully before placing her hand in that firm clasp. Mal drew her slowly to her feet, for once controlling her usual erratic tug and Polly left her hand in the vampires for a moment, accepting the apology unspoken.

The walk back to the camp took less time than the original struggle up to the road. They easily retraced their steps, the broken vegetation of Mal's earlier frustration leaving a clear trail. Polly was asleep the minute her head hit the pillow of her folded jacket and when she woke refreshed some two hours later Mal was nowhere to be seen. The vampire strolled back into camp just as the wide brushstrokes of colour were beginning to fade from the sky. Polly made some comment about falling out of trees and handed over a mug of coffee from the pot constantly located on the edge of the fire. While Mal sipped from the possibly poisonous gunk Polly explained how she'd managed to brief Latimer on what they had found, drawing a series of maps on the flat topped rock with charcoal as he'd spooned thin stew into his thin mouth. To her obvious frustration as she told the tale, the sub-lieutenant had declined to make any decision until he'd had time to think.

That night it was Finchley in the OP for the first watch and they sat with him until the twinkling lights far away in the valley began to wink out. Murmuring a quiet goodnight to the friends tucked up in warm beds somewhere out there in the darkness they sat on, discussing this and that until his relief came. After escorting Finchley back to the camp, they picked up fresh mugs of tea and made their way back to the rock that was already feeling like home. Mal attempted to point out a few constellations but the uncooperative clouds hid much of the sky. They'd been sitting in companionable silence for a while when Mal asked "How's your brother?"

"Fine. The Duchess is doing well. They've been upgrading the privies." Mal gave her a disbelieving look. "No really. Shufti writes me letters. Very regular. She says 'Hi'." Mal added an enquiring eyebrow, prompting Polly to continue "I may have mentioned you one or two times. When you were exceptionally annoying. She's knitting you some socks."

The vampire's face became carefully expressionless. However, when Polly choked on the snigger in her throat Mal could hold it no longer and her poker face cracked into a million pieces. They lay back on the cold stone and gave way to gusts of laughter. It was comfortable there and once the chuckles died away they didn't immediately sit up, talking a little longer about those far away places and the people they'd left behind, as all soldiers will in the small watches of the night. Quiet murmuring memories of home, wisps of reminiscence drifting up into the empty skies above. Eventually the conversation faded away naturally and they lay on, listening to the breeze rustling the remaining leaves on the trees.

"We should go round the sentries. They're due a brew." Polly stretched and sat up.

"Damn the army."

"Indeed. Damn them all to hell." She slid down the rock, jumping the last foot to land heavily in the ankle deep undergrowth. "Do you want a coffee?"

"Of course I want a coffee. Hang on though." Mal's head emerged over the top of the outcrop. "You never brew it right, you know that." She clambered gracefully down to link her arm with Polly's. "Duty calls. Let us away to bend our not insignificant minds to the glorious pursuit of caffeination."

~X~

The next morning, after considering the options carefully Sub-Lieutenant Latimer revealed that he intended to investigate this watchtower and ordered Polly and Mal to make a good copy of the map they'd sketched for him the previous evening. They protested that they should be the ones to lead the squad but it was to no avail, Latimer leaving them to their bedrolls with the rest of the night watch. When they awoke mid afternoon it was to a camp decimated, with the bustle of lads stuffing the equipment that remained into packs. Apparently the patrol was moving to the tower, the Sub-Lieutenant having declared it a more than suitable billet for their remaining time on the mountain.

Their briefing that night was short. The OP was now on the roof above and the sentries were posted around the base of the tower, at a reasonable distance that they would pick up any creeping approach that the lookouts might miss in the darkness. The fire would be kept burning on the second floor for comfort purposes, hidden from any watchers by blocked windows, with the off duty troops playing cards on the lower level. Dismissed, Polly and Mal wandered up to rest on the still warm parapet, gazing down the friendly vista of the valley as the OP lads kept a weather eye in the other direction to the less welcoming lands nearer the border. Pulling out her telescope Polly swept the deeper darkness of the valley until she picked out the lanterns of the guards on the castle far below. Though the sky still had some colour in it somewhere down there someone was looking up at the mountain, watching vigilantly for the flicker of light signalling out of the darkness. Latimer would have something special to tell them tonight and she felt a flash of pity for the poor lad tasked with operating the lantern.

Later, as the tower slept peacefully beneath her, Polly her rounds complete for the moment settled in beside Mal, elbows on the parapet. The quiet murmuring of the lookouts melded with the rustling tree tops, giving them at least the sense of privacy.

Mal, who had been gathering the threads of previous conversations into one niggling whole, pulled her vacillating thoughts together and opened the conversation.

"Polly?

"Hmm?" Deep in the mist of trying to remember whether Turner had one sugar or two in his coffee Polly wasn't really paying attention and so missed the warning tremor of nervousness interwoven through that use of her name.

"Why did you sign up again?"

Polly thought for a moment, staring out into the impenetrable darkness as she waited for her night sight to return. "I had the book, thought I could do something." She shifted her weight against the supporting wall. "It was too soon."

Behind them they heard a short gust of laughter at a dirty joke before the OP lads settled into quiet again.

"What about you?"

"Apart from the fact I was bored and I look good in a uniform?" Even in the darkness Mal felt the look.

"It's different for us, Polly. Vampires aren't a friendly species. Another vampire isn't company, it's competition. I knew Jackrum must have given you something you could use and when I heard they were drumming up again I thought…" she paused. "I thought: I might be new to this buddy thing, but friends don't let friends walk into the jaws of hell without at least tagging along to make use of any prime mocking opportunities."

"And if I didn't come?"

"Well, like I said, I look good in a uniform and I needed a vacation anyway." She brushed at the stone under her hand, sending moss spinning into the darkness. "You would have come, I know you. I knew you'd be planning something stupid."

"And then I didn't take you with me." Polly quiet admission lay between them.

"It's ok." Mal leant closer and nudged that tight shoulder with her own. "I was away, you got the chance to go and you took it. I hadn't said anything. You weren't to know."

"I would have taken you."

"I know."

Resting there, shoulder to shoulder with the vampire against the world, Polly sighed.

"What is it?" But Polly didn't respond and after waiting patiently for as long as she could Mal reiterated her enquiry.

"It's just… sometimes… I wonder if it was worth it." She drew in a deep breath, rubbing her face with her hands as she released it in a short gust. "Did I waste my opportunity, show my hand too soon? That book was power and I threw it away."

"I don't think you threw it away." Mal spoke with quiet emphasis. "You gave them peace even if it was only for a short while. You gave fathers the chance to hold their children, mothers the time to watch their sons grow into men. Young folk spent the spring courting instead of dying in far away fields, grandparents lived out their years surrounded by family, and crops were planted, harvested and put away into storage for a fat winter."

Polly turned in surprise. "You're a vampire, immortal I believe the saying goes, outside the power of death. However did you learn the value of a single day?"

"Oh, here and there." Mal thought of the scrapbook of memories, reverently returned to over and over in the quiet months after the attack on the keep. Of a too short period trekking through high forest, sleeping on uncomfortable ground, hiding from a malicious enemy and along the way learning everything possible about the mechanics of a single smile.

"Do you really think I didn't waste it?"

"Really." The statement stood firm against the night and feeling the guilt wash out of the figure held together so stiffly at her side Mal added more softly, "You do the best you can with whatever you can find. Luckily for the huddled masses, Borogravia found you." Polly sniffed and throwing caution to the wind Mal threw a comforting arm around the tired shoulders, squeezing gently. Behind them the one of OP lads stretched and took a turn about the roof in an attempt to keep awake. Passing by the pair now standing decorously side by side against the retaining wall he gave a murmured greeting, unconcerned that only the corporal replied. By the time they were given their privacy again Polly had found her composure once more and it was her turn to ask the question.

"Why did you stay? After I'd gone off to Ankh Morpork, by your own admission there was nothing left for you to stick around for, why didn't you leave?"

Mal silently cursed the darkness that encouraged confidences but non-the-less couldn't prevent the answer slipping from her grasp. The simple sentence somehow encapsulated the whole grubby entanglement.

"I gave my word"

Polly looked over in enquiry, unsure as to what she meant.

"I told you I learnt to play cards in Guena but that was a bit of a simplification." Mal reached into her jacket for the ever present packet of tobacco and began to roll a cigarette. "When I came up out of the horrors of that cell in Ankh Morpork they advised us that one should find something to do with all the new free time we now had. So I went on a trip."

Her labours completed she inserted the narrow object between thin lips and struck a match. Her whole attention seemed to be focussed at the tip of her roll-up where the flame was gently playing across the paper. Eventually it was lit to her satisfaction and she shook the match out, dropping it into the darkness and delicately picked a tendril of tobacco from one lip. Only then did she deign to return to her story.

"I ended up floating down the Vieux River on a paddle steamer, living the high life, playing a young gentleman on the Grand Sneer whilst paying my way from my winnings at the table. Good times." A reminiscent smile peeked out for a second before darker memories re-surfaced. "I lost my fortune, won someone else's. Met some people, learnt some things." She took a deep drag, the end of the cigarette burning up brightly in the darkness and in the following pause they both watched it fade away to a muted glow. "They tell you it's the giving up of the blood that's the hardest, but it's not. When we stop feeding, stop merely reacting to the world and start thinking… that's when we go mad."

Mal had forgotten Polly was there, the quiet murmur almost a conversation with herself.

"I saw myself for the first time. A vampire: no morals, no finer feelings, no empathy. If I don't have my honour, if my word counts for nothing, what good am I at all?" She gestured uselessly, the tobacco firefly drawing painful pictures across the sky.

"I'm sorry." Polly lifted the cigarette from between those nervous fingers and took a deep drag in turn before handing it back. She couldn't go on, even now unable to express aloud why she hadn't asked Mal back then. She was sorry. More sorry than she could say that she'd allowed her fears over why Mal had come back and her confusion about what the vampire wanted from her to let her to leave Mal behind with only an inborn stubbornness to keep her head above water.

"Hey, we ended up here anyway so Nullus Anxietus as I hear they say in barbarian lands." Mal flicked the butt into the abyss and turned to lean back against the wall and look up at the towering mountains dark against the night sky. "Would you have wanted to miss those stars?"

Polly agreed, allowing Mal's humour to lead them into shallower waters. But as they stared up to the ineffable beauty produced by mere pinpricks of light in an infinite tapestry she knew she would never forget those simple quiet words spoken so steadily into the darkness.

~X~

The Patrol came down the track in loose formation, Corporal Finchley out on point with the rest spread out behind him in small groups as they made their way across the fields. Above them the sky was torn into intensely orange and pink stripes by the setting sun, and the puff of their breath (Mal notwithstanding) lingered behind them in the chill air. Not needed for any defence purposes at this time Polly and Mal found themselves toward the rear, walking side by side in wide cart ruts, the muddy soil frozen underfoot.

It was going to be alright. Polly didn't know where the certainty came from, but somehow she knew a corner had been turned. She could have kept the book for another time. She could have done it a different way. Maybe something else would have cropped up to keep Borogravia from that possibility of one last totally destructive war. Maybe not. It didn't matter. Here and now they were alive, and walking down that rough cart track she knew with sudden certainty she would have it no other way. She slipped her gloved hand into that of the corporal strolling next to her, a smile dancing at the corners of her mouth as the sound of someone humming an old folk tune drifted back over the squad in time with their marching feet. Mal looked down in confusion but as clarity broke through she gave an understanding squeeze, releasing the hand before anyone noticed. Behind them one of the lads broke into the chorus and the rest joined in until Finchley fluffed a line and they had to stop for laughing.

Side by side, shoulders touching at every other step the Sergeant and her corporal tramped on toward the town spread out below them, smoke rising up into the chill evening air. Polly remembered Goldhawk had promised them chilli with named meat and her stomach rumbled in anticipation.

It was going to be alright. They were going to be alright. Both of them.

~X~