The Things I do
Havelock/OFC pairing
Author's Notes: (I'm still reeling from the fact that I can't address you all individually! Arg! Expect e-mails from me soon, I'm working on my account!) One: I ENJOY CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. Thought I ought to make that stand out. I love it. I devour it. I'm a bloody constructive criticism vampire! (But if you flame me, I'll have to use you to roast my chicken – I eat chicken whenever possible). Two: Someone tells me more description, someone tells me more narration (thank you to both of you, by the way). I've landed in a happy medium. Maybe. I'm not sure. Tell me. Three: The reason behind her description of the window is in chapter four. Four: The formatting SUCKS. This one's going to be better. Five: The squares were hyphens. Six: No, no slash. (Future story will be slash). Seven: I hope she continues to be likeable. If there's something you're dubious about (you know who you are) tell me! Eight: (you who you are when I say this) My grandma thinks like that. :giggle: Just talk louder.
I'll shut up now.
Don't kill me, FF dot Net! Please::cowers:
ooo
Two:
I met my second challenge just two hours into the job. I had mostly been lurking in a shadowy corner, being unobtrusive and playing silently with a knife. I was practicing my sleight-of-hand – the Sto Helit guards have a lot of time on their hands. Drumknott had come in a few times and both times I had strived to ignore him, but always paying attention out of the corner of my eyes and ears. I don't trust people.
Not even my employers.
Then, Drumknott told Vetinari that a Commander Vimes was coming alone. I wrinkled my nose. Vimes? Old Stoneface? When I saw that my assumption had been correct, I shot up onto my feet and caressed the edge of my blade, watching him warily.
"Sir," Vimes said shortly. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, Sir Samuel, I did."
Sir Samuel? Oh that's right. The man had been made a duke.
The silence was strained as it continued, broken only by the scribbling of Vetinari's quill.
"Sir Samuel, there is someone I'd like you to meet. Sergeant Pulotti?"
Vimes swivelled his gaze over to me as I made my detached exit from the shadows, a bored look imprinted on my features. He swept me over with his eyes, giving me a cursory look, before returning his steel gaze back to a point over Vetinari's shoulder.
"Yes, sir?"
"This is Carla Pulotti. From the Sto Helit Watch. I trust you and the Watch will make her welcome."
The man's features and eyes didn't waver for an instant.
"Yes, sir."
"I daresay you received her file from her superior officer?" Vetinari still didn't look up.
"Yes, sir."
"And have you read it?"
"Yes, sir." There was an underlying meaning there that I didn't get, but obviously Vetinari did because I saw his lips twitch for a moment before he looked up at the Commander.
"It's very interesting, isn't it?"
I kept my gaze firmly planted on Old Stoneface's nose as he looked over at me again.
"It's... creative."
I couldn't help it. I smirked for a brief second before I schooled my face again.
"It sounded like she belonged in the Shades."
My eyes whipped to his at that. Now, wait just a blooming instant... I'm not that bad!
"That's a bit of an overstatement, Commander."
"Sorry, sir."
"It was all in self-defense."
"Of course, sir."
"She has one holiday a month, which she can be free to take wherever her fancy chooses – either here in the small room provided for her or at Pseudopolis Yard."
I realized that he was informing me of my job without talking to me directly. Wonderful. Someone else who thinks I'm scum and can't talk to me in the face without feeling the need to take a long, hot shower.
"She'll be given the needed eight hours of sleep, in which I hope you find a replacement guard."
"Captain Carrot has volunteered, sir," Vimes said in a strained voice.
"Mm. No, I think... I think Sergeant Angua will be suitable."
"Very good, sir." He sounded suspiciously relieved.
"I think, Sir Samuel, that is all the business we will conduct for today."
"Good day, sir."
Vimes walked stiffly out of the room and I leaned back against the wall, watching him leave and close the door. After a few seconds, I heard a thump, like someone hitting the wall.
"Do you have any silver on you, Sergeant Pulotti?"
"Yes, my lord. My mother's old silver pentagram."
It was currently hanging on a silver chain, pressed against my chest in a comfortable, warm way.
"When you come into close contact with the Watch, do endeavor to keep it out of... range."
I'm not stupid. There was a werewolf in the Watch.
"I'll do my best, sir," I said swiftly.
"What are your knives made out of?"
"No silver, sir. Gold, steel, iron, platinum..."
No answer. I took that as a way of saying 'good' without really saying it. The rest, in short, was silence.
I was relieved of my duties (frankly, practicing the same moves over and over again can get frightfully boring sometimes) and a Sergeant Angua led me to the Watch House – Pseudopolis Yard. I saw the way she looked – hunted. I think I just found the werewolf.
"Do you have a room in the Watch House?" I asked her. She looked over at me, eyes looking a bit glazed over.
"No."
I nodded and she opened the door. When I walked in, it was a wall of sound hitting me in the face and causing me to fall back in baffled surprise. Good gods, the noise level was... the word deafening doesn't do it justice!
"... look, I know that even the undead have to hold a job, but working for Silver Manufacturer's Incorporated?"
"It had good pay!"
"... the daft bugger was trying to drown himself in the Ankh!"
"Good luck with that one!"
"... recruit had a silver charm in his pocket. Vimes went spare!"
"Angua never does much about it."
There was my proof.
Angua seemed oblivious to the conversation going on about her as she led me up the stairs to an office that I presumed was Commander Vimes. The sight I saw was one I shall treasure forever.
Old Stoneface buried behind mountain ranges of paperwork.
My lips twitched madly and I contrived to keep a solemn expression.
"Sergeant Pulotti, please have a seat."
"Thank you, Commander St – Vimes."
I winced at the slipup as he looked up sharply and I stared over his shoulder.
I wouldn't be reading his paperwork upside-down until I was working here at least two weeks.
I sat down stiffly, hands clenched in my lap, and I swivelled my gaze to his nose.
"Sergeant Pulotti, it is a… pleasure to have you here."
I lifted an eyebrow.
"The Patrician was… pleased when he heard that Sto Helit had sent you. He liked the… reports on you."
He watched me for a moment, distrust evident on his features, and I settled for looking bored.
"He said it would be... useful."
"Indeed, Commander?"
"Angua will show you to the room we'll have for you." He watched me. I gave him a leveled look. "Good day, Sergeant Pulotti."
I stood up, clicked my heels together, and tipped my head in his direction. "Duke Vimes."
His face froze and, in a slightly better frame of mind, I exited the room to find a rather amused Angua waiting for me. The room was... well, a room. There was a bed, a box, a small dresser with four drawers that was falling apart, and a stained, cracked mirror balanced precariously on top.
It need some work.
No, let me rephrase that.
It needed to be torn down and replaced completely.
"It's... a room. I suppose," I said dubiously, eyeing the mirror.
Angua gave a short bark of laughter and I walked back out the Yard with my hands deep in the pockets of my trench coat and my blank expression planted firmly on my features. I entered the Palace and walked up the stairs, entering the anteroom and looking over at Drumknott. He didn't pay any attention to me as I walked by him and opened the door to the Office.
My ears heard a whizz and my hand snapped out, meeting a steel shaft. I turned my head to face the door to see the quivering tip of an arrow. My palm burned but I ignored it as I entered the Oblong Office and kicked the door closed. A man dressed in black stood frozen in the shadows and a rather entertained Vetinari sat behind his desk.
"Ah, Sergeant Pulotti. How wonderful for you to join us."
"My lord," I said, amusement tinging my voice. "Is something the matter?" I asked heavily, twirling the crossbow arrow around in my hands, fiddling with it.
"This is... James, isn't it?"
"Y-yes, milord."
"James is a novice from the Assassin's Guild sent to test your strengths."
"It was a well-thrown arrow." I tossed him the arrow and went up to lean against the side of Vetinari's desk. He looked up at me serenely and I hurriedly straightened. "Next time, count on the person that's walking through the door to have a heightened sense of awareness."
"Y-yes, milady."
"It's Pulotti, James."
He nodded mutely and I gestured for him to go. He scrambled away, out the window. I watched him in amusement and then faded into the shadows once more, dragging out my knife and playing with it.
"Do you play chess, Sergeant Pulotti?" Vetinari asked suddenly.
I looked up in surprise. "Not very well, my lord."
"Would you like to learn?" I twitched.
"Of course, my lord."
Just agree with everything your employer says and life will be just grand.
It took all my will to hold my tongue.