TP Paraphrased-

Good job, Moist. This is the part where he kills you. No one gets to live after doing something like that. People say he doesn't have any vices but I know he does. Now that I've cleaned up my mess, he's going to silence me.

"I believe you think our relationship is a game," said Vetinari, "So let me give you this. I have been told Cosmo made it to replicate my cane. He has placed a blade inside. A copy of something that does not exist. One can only assume that it is authentic in every respect."

Vetinari stepped out into a disused part of the palace gardens. He turned back to Moist and drew the sword. There would be no witnesses. Moist knew what was going to happen and was thoroughly surprised when it didn't.

Vetinari handed him the sword. Moist stared at it.

Does he expect me to fight him or something? Give the old chap a sporting chance? Am I supposed to kill myself with it? What kind of assassin gives his target a goodbye present first?

"Sorry, why am I holding this sword?" asked Moist.

I was just interested to see that you were more fearful when you were holding it," said Vetinari, taking it from him. "You really are not a violent man, are you?"

"That wasn't necessary!"

Vetinari sheathed the sword.

"My predecessors did many worse things. They were certainly bloodier at least. Forgive me if my pleasures are a little more cerebral, will you?"

-TP Paraphrased

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Vetinari walked past him and disappeared around corner. Moist slumped down on the rim of an empty fountain. It looked like it hadn't been used in a long time.

What the hell am I doing? How am I still alive? This isn't how things are supposed to work! I could ruin him. I'm right in his way! Is he playing with me or is he seriously not going to attack me unless I tell someone?

I'm forced to bet on the good graces of a man who thinks war is a wicked waste of customers. A man who's a better con artist than I'll ever be, who thinks committees are a kind of wastepaper basket, who can turn sizzle into sausage, every day…

"Gods, I love that man."

"Still?" said Vetinari raising an eyebrow.

"How long have you been there?"

"I never left."

"But you did. I saw you."

Vetinari stood staring at Moist in a way that seemed even more unnerving than usual.

"Why am I still here?" asked Moist. "Why haven't you killed me yet?"

"You didn't tell."

"I—of course I didn't tell! You'd kill me if I tried anything!"

"Mr. Lipwig, I could have you disposed of at any time no matter what you do. If you are alive it is only because I haven't decided otherwise."

"But things aren't supposed to be like that! Why me?"

"If I wished to, I could have anyone killed, not just you."

"That makes me feel special. You could be tormenting other people but no it has to be me. "

"I torment everyone. Tyrants do that sort of thing."

"Then stop being a tyrant!"

Vetinari's face hardened. He slowly advanced on Lipwig. The tip of the forged cane dug into the grass with each step. Moist backed away instinctively and toppled into the disused fountain. There was a resonant crack that split through the air and Moist lay still.

Vetinari let the remains of the cane clatter to the floor of the fountain and carried Moist's limp body into the palace. No one stopped him.

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Moist blearily opened his eyes and groaned. He hurt, but at least the bed was nice and soft.

"You should remain still for now, Mr. Lipwig," said Vetinari. "You had a nasty fall. You even broke my genuine replica cane. At least it was useful for something."

"You hit me!"

"No, you ran into my stick on your way to a certainly fatal meeting with the concrete. The back of your scull is happy to be intact and sends its well wishes for your recovery," said Vetinari sitting down on a chair next to his bed.

"You bastard, why do you keep doing things like this?" Moist covered his eyes with his arm.

"I thought I was doing you a favor. Should I have let you die? I simply cannot see the appeal."

"Why can't I get away from you?"

"You of all people should know that you can't run away from me."

"I mean why does it always have to be you?"

"Yes, I see your point. There has to be a reasonable explanation for why I keep showing up in your life. It's almost like someone wants me to be with you. I wonder who it is."

"You're doing this on purpose."

"How did you guess?"

"Why?!"

"Because you do jaw-droppingly amazing things every day and I want a piece of that." Vetinari leaned over Lipwig and watched his expression change.

"Seriously?" said Moist incredulously, "How does anything I do compare to running the largest city on the Circle Sea? There is nothing I can do that you haven't done a million times backwards and in heels. You are in one day everything that I've ever wanted to be in my whole life. If I were to stab you in the heart with a stake right now, I would find fifty other stakes already there and they would all be bigger than mine!"

"Whereas if I stabbed you the stake would merely pass through," said Vetinari.

"What does—"

"You have taken on duties that would have nigh killed me yet you emerge without a scratch and with a new hat to boot."

"I haven't done-"

"I throw things at you left and right and nothing seems to hurt you at all. I have been driving stakes into water."

"Why can't you just-"

"I want you."

Lipwig felt Vetinari's hand on his cheek and bolted upright. He managed to push Vetinari away before vertigo claimed him and he passed out. He collapsed onto the edge of the bed. Momentum and gravity took him over the side and he landed unconscious in a heap on the floor with one leg still tangled in the sheets.

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Moist awoke to the sight of Vetinari watching him from the end of the bed. He was sketching him.

"You know that is the most exquisite pose. I have never seen anything quite like it, on a living person that is," he said.

Moist scrambled to his feet stumbling on the fallen sheet.

"You moved," grumbled Vetinari with exaggerated dismay. "No matter, the drawing was mediocre anyway."

"You could have done something!" said Lipwig.

"If I had touched you then you would have been angry at that too."

Moist felt the frustration building. Hot indignant fury ran through him.

"If I could just—"

"Just what, Mr. Lipwig?"

Moist didn't answer. He stared at Vetinari. Most people didn't look the Patrician in the eye for any extended period of time. In any other situation, Moist would have been one of them, but today he knew exactly where he stood. He turned and headed for the door.

Lord Vetinari would normally have let him leave like so many before him. Perhaps in a sounder mind he would have contemplated about the appropriate time to kill him. The purely sane voice of the tyrant told him to not bother and to get on with running the city. This time Havelock chose to be human.

"Please," he said, "I sincerely want to know what you would do."

Moist paused with his hand on the door. He didn't turn around.

"I would leave. I should have a long time ago. You can't give me what I want… and neither can she."

"Ah, I see, I do not excite you anymore. Adora is just as dangerous as I am. Perhaps a combined effort is needed?"

Moist turned around suddenly and pushed Vetinari backwards onto the bed with one hand. The other he clenched into a fist and held aloft. He didn't move. He couldn't. Moist lowered his fist and punched the mattress instead.

"You wouldn't let me do what I really want! That's the problem with this distorted relationship. It won't happen. Tyrants only act a certain way and there's nothing I can do to change that."

"What if I did?"

"Don't say that! This is what I mean, the lies all of it! I know exactly what I want to do to you but I can't ask you to do it for me. Even if I did you would just do whatever you damn well pleased anyway."

"No, I mean it. What do I need to do to keep you?" Havelock's expression was dead serious.

The anger disappeared from Moist's face. He sighed and gently brushed his lips over Havelock's eyelids. That small movement left a shimmering trail of energy that lingered long after the touch had ended. It was a frail and ephemeral feeling of absolute certainty. Havelock looked away.

"Do you see now?" said Moist. "Do you understand what it is that you won't let me give? She won't either. She pushes me away every time. She tells me I'm being quixotic and things don't work that way in real life. Ever since I stopped pretending to be Albert Spangler, I've wanted this so much, and it hurts because I can't have it from either of you."

Vetinari's face remained purposefully blank, but his eyes betrayed a miniscule hint of fear.

"I may not be able to reciprocate, but I will let you. If that is what you need from me."

"No, it won't work like that! You can't fake it with that blank face of yours. You have to actually receive it, all of it." Moist turned Havelock's head so he could look into his eyes.

"I cannot…" Vetinari said. The unease was growing in his voice. "If I were to do that, I would never be able to go back. I would steal you. The lie will shatter. I will not do that to either of us."

"You never had any intention of keeping me did you?" said Moist harshly. "You would have to give up too much of your life for me. You wanted to play with me and that's it, but this stopped being just about the sex the moment you chose not to rape me in that carriage. I want to love you, but I can't if you won't let me."

Havelock closed his eyes to hide his emotions behind his eyelids. "But, would you actually have me? I'm old enough to be your father."

"Are you?"

"No."

"Then that's good enough."

"No, it's not," said Havelock softly.

Moist let out a chuckle which soon turned into a laugh. He sat down on Vetinari's couch and smiled at him incredulously.

"Are you serious?" said Moist. "How could you possibly not be good enough? Do you not realize how insanely stunning you are? If I had half your skill I'd never have to take crap from anyone ever again. I can't even imagine what goes on in your head. You've been Patrician for how many years and you haven't gone crazy yet? No one can do that."

Havelock stayed silent.

"Come here," Lipwig sighed. "Perhaps you could do something completely selfish and reckless for once? Allow yourself to love me and let me love you back, even if it is only one time."

Havelock stood up and blinked slowly. He took a deep breath and sat down on Moist's lap facing him.

"It will be painful for me," he said candidly.

"I'll hurt too, but I know that this is what I want. When you told me to trust you, I felt free somehow. It was like stepping into a warm house on a cold day. My whole body melted. I want to feel like that every day. I want to watch you sleep peacefully knowing that I will keep you safe. I want to know what your face looks like when you have nothing to worry about. I know that you're bound to still keep things from me and try to manipulate me but I'd like to be able to safely assume you won't hurt me while you're doing it. I want to confidently face one of your little schemes knowing that you thought it up for a reason that I would agree to. I want to trust you."

"That is a long list of demands," said Vetinari.

"They aren't demands. They are requests, wishes, and promises."

"Then you are asking me to sleep peacefully? That's not exactly a choice on my part."

"It can be a choice. When you make love to me, you expose yourself completely, but that's based mainly on how your cock reacts to my naked body. That is not a real choice. I want you to deliberately show weakness when we are not having sex. It's an act that goes against human instinct, but you have the ability to choose to be weak around me. Please Havelock, will you sleep next to me knowing I'm there? Are you even capable of relaxing in the presence of another person?"

Havelock closed his eyes and put his head down on Lipwig's shoulder. Every muscle in his body was taught. When he finally spoke, the words came out in a horse whisper.

"I will…"

Moist held Havelock close to his body. Those frightened words filled his lungs with needles. He wanted it to stop yet the idea of losing the feeling scared him more.

"Will you wear pajamas? I don't think I can ignore the physical if you're naked."

"Even a parka wouldn't stop me from remembering what's underneath, but I see your point."

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Havelock slowly slid himself under the covers next to Moist. Mind over matter was second nature to him but he was completely unprepared for this kind of situation. Yes, he could easily get through using rational thought and doing things that Moist expected him to do, but that didn't seem right. This wasn't a game or a challenge. There were no illusions to maintain and no lies to work around. As he settled into bed, Havelock consciously made the choice to be weak. He turned to look at Moist and his conviction shattered. This self-imposed frailty thing was harder than it looked. Havelock tried again. He failed.

"This doesn't seem to be working," he said. "Is there some trick to being fragile? You did it before. Am I missing something?"

"For you, it could be anything. It could be that you doubt my ability to protect you. You might be afraid because you don't trust yourself to not hurt me. Maybe you're worried that it will hurt to trust me or that you will do something wrong. I know that while you're working, you can't let people know if you make a mistake because that's something Lord Vetinari just does not do. When you are weak, you're not supposed to cover up problems."

"So you want me to let you know about my mistakes even though I am perfectly capable of dealing with them myself?"

"I guess that's close enough. Come here. Let me hold you," said Moist reaching out to him.

Havelock stayed perfectly still. None of this seemed to make any sense.

"What is it you want me to do?"

"You relax and do nothing. You stop thinking about things and only focus on the here and now."

Havelock scooted into Moist's arms and tried to slow his thoughts down. That alone was a monumental task. He purposefully relaxed every muscle in his body one by one. He tried to only think about keeping his muscles lax but other thoughts kept on trying to invade his mind. It was an oddly twisted mental exercise and took a lot more effort than he expected to push them away.

Then Moist moved a fraction of an inch and Havelock's unsteady structure collapsed. He lay paralyzed. His body trembled, which was a novel experience. Memories, thoughts, and emotions flooded his mind. The pressure increased until he stopped breathing altogether.

"I didn't think you would react like this," said Moist.

"Do people do this often?" asked Havelock suddenly remembering he had lungs. "I can't imagine anyone voluntarily being weak! It hurts like hell!"

"Not everyone can do it. There are people who can't bear the pain and fear. You, however, are not one of them."

"You're not a prophet! How do you know what I'll do?"

"That's easy. You can do it because I'm here. It's much harder to choose to be weak when you're by yourself. I mean, you surely have the ability to do it without me. It just takes longer, but it would be silly to not use me. I'm a good match for you. We're kind of similar and I'm stronger than I look."

"That's just great. You're saying what I do doesn't matter?"

"No, I'm saying that it's more productive to have me here, saves time."

"But if I'm using you, then what are you supposed to do? You can't just sit there and do nothing. A man like you can get bored in a hurricane."

Moist grinned and moved to a more comfortable position where his arm was less likely to go numb.

"I don't think I could ever get tired of lying next to you. In this state, you're even more unpredictable than normal. Subtle suspense is exciting too but you don't have to worry about me getting bored anyway. I could just go to sleep if that happens."

"And you'll stay here then?"

"Where else am I going to go? I have to sleep somewhere and I quite like this bed. There's something about it that makes me not want to leave. I wonder what it is."

Havelock glared at him. Moist smiled sweetly. He pulled Havelock closer to him and gave him a gentle kiss.

"I'll be right here. You just have to focus on being weak. It takes a bit of practice."

"You don't have to be so condescending about it."

Vetinari tried again. He failed.

"I'm the bloody Patrician! Why is this so damn difficult?"

"It's because you're not supposed to be the Patrician right now."

"I can't just resign for a night and then reinstate myself in the morning."

"You could if you don't tell anyone you're doing it. They'll keep on thinking you're Patrician until you declare otherwise. You dying would work too, but I don't suggest that."

Havelock stayed quiet for a while. His breaths came slowly but Moist could feel his heart beating rapidly.

"It's still not working," said Havelock.

"When I did it, I had help."

"Who?"

"An angel."

Havelock smiled faintly and rolled on to his stomach.

"Tell me then, what did I do?"

"You killed Albert Spangler. I couldn't be him anymore. I was only Moist von Lipwig and to me it looked like I would have to be him for a long time. I felt cold and naked. I didn't know who I was supposed to be, so I decided to become whatever the hell I wanted. I built Moist von Lipwig out of all the things that made me happy and all the things I thought I couldn't have. I may have chosen a lie but I'm human. I've been lying to myself since childhood. I might as well pick ones that make me happy."

"Adora was right. You are quixotic. How have you managed to survive in a place like this with such delusional ideals?"

"I just don't tell anyone. I've been slowly worming my way to where I want to be. I'm still using my skills as a con man and I'm still a dishonest crook but my goal has changed. Money isn't good enough anymore."

"Fascinating, you have more than one persona at the same time. A weak ignorant fool protected by a marginally stronger ignorant fool who in turn hides behind a terminally flamboyant ignorant fool."

"Um… yes." It was an all too accurate description. "All right, then who stands behind the quasi-benevolent tyrant? Or, perhaps they're beside him or in his pocket. Maybe he's down the street and around the corner just minding his own business until you come knocking at his door demanding answers."

"You've taken your metaphor too far, but I understand what you're saying. You're under the illusion that I have a kind heart behind my hard exterior and you're going to be the one to bring it out of me."

"Good gods no. If that were the case then I wouldn't even bother. I'm not a complete moron. I said that just lying beside you is exciting tonight. I meant that if you do choose to be weak, then there's a good chance I'll die. I'm opening Pandora's Box here. This could be more dangerous than anything else we've done together and I'm loving every minute of it!"

Moist flashed a dazzling smile. Giddy anticipation filled his eyes. He kissed Havelock's cheek with the same light tingling intensity as before. Havelock buried his nose in the pillow. Moist shifted closer so that his body covered Havelock's side. He placed his lips ever so lightly on Havelock's ear.

"I love you," he whispered.

Havelock froze until he ran out of air. He turned towards Moist so he could breathe but tucked his head down so he couldn't see his face. Havelock's shoulders trembled for only a second. He held tightly onto the fabric of Moist's pajamas.

Moist's muscles tensed. His mind filled up with intoxicating terror. There were a million potential resolutions to his actions and all of them were so vastly different. The roulette wheel had been spun. Where would the ball land? Moist could almost hear it clicking as the seconds rolled by. Havelock screamed and the ball slid into place.

Havelock gasped for breath. With surprising strength, he rolled onto his back and pulled Moist on top of him. He locked his arms around Moist's chest so tightly that the hug threatened to break bones. Havelock screamed again but the sound was muffled by Moist's shoulder. His whole body shuddered as he drew breath. He wrapped his legs around Moist binding him in place. Havelock's painful shouts echoed in Moist's chest.

"You're hurting me," said Moist but he wasn't listening.

He tried to move but that only made Havelock clamp down harder. A different type of fear bubbled inside Moist. His mind raced to find something, anything, to ease Havelock's pain.

"Um, uh… William de Word is here to take your statement on your absence at the embassy," said Moist in a grey monotone. "The foreign dignitaries are most displeased and have sent an envoy who has been kept waiting for…" The screams stopped and Moist felt Havelock's grip on him loosen. "Um, also, Commander Vimes is here requesting information about the murder of a diplomat—"

"That lie is too obvious even for your standards," said Vetinari. "Vimes never 'requests' anything."

Moist breathed a sigh of relief and looked into the eyes of the Patrician.

"You're back. I probably shouldn't have let you scream for so long, but I wasn't sure when you wanted me to bring you out of it." Moist watched Havelock's face flicker between strength and weakness. "Um, are you going to let me go now?"

"No," said Vetinari firmly. It was strange how he made the word sound like a plea, a truth, and an order at the same time.

Moist smiled faintly. "Will you let me move my arms out of the way?"

Havelock let go of the embrace just long enough for Moist to remove his arms from his sides and get comfortable. Then he returned to clutching Moist to his chest. Moist put his elbows on either side of Havelock's head and propped himself up a bit. He could see the thinly veiled uncertainty in Havelock's eyes.

"Kiss me like you did before," said Havelock.

"Are you sure?"

"No."

Havelock's heart seemed to stop in the sudden eternity it took for Moist to lower his head. Their lips touched and in an instant the whole world vanished. Time and fear were blown away in a swift gust of velvet wind. Havelock could feel Moist's love washing over him. The water flowed through the cracks in the fortress Havelock had long ago constructed around his heart. It slowly but inexorably rose above the ramparts and fell into the courtyard flushing out the remnants of battles fought there.

Havelock felt the sudden rush. He parted his lips in search of more. He opened the windows that he had kept barred for so long. He let Moist's love gush through and flood the chambers inside. The water cleaned his heart of all the hate, pain, doubt, and regret stored inside.

Havelock sucked greedily at Moist's tongue in hopes that the feeling would never end. He found himself wishing he could drown in that love forever. He longed to leave his body behind and let Moist hold his soul in his hands. Havelock flung open the locked doors in his heart. The water flowed into the dark dusty corridors and into rooms carefully forgotten.

Suddenly, the flood disappeared. The water receded.

"—stopping traffic on the bridge and the guilds are in an uproar. Also, the Black Ribboners are petitioning for increased representation in the watch."

Lord Vetinari stopped screaming. Moist looked down at him worried.

"There's a lot going on in the city, sir. Maybe it would be best for you to return to work," he said.

"You're not going to convince me that any of that is actually happening." Vetinari noticed the blood on Moist's lip and the taste of metal on his own. "I bit you."

"I'm going to have to make it look like I was in a fight. With all the things I've done, it was bound to happen anyway."

"I'm sorry."

"You had better be. That really hurt."

Moist blotted his lip with the sleeve of his nightshirt.

"Can't you just fuck me and get this over with?" asked Havelock.

"No," said Moist in a tone that expressed an undeniable truth. "You are going to sleep here next to me out of choice."

"It's not much of a choice if you're ordering me to do it."

"I never thought I would have to remind you that you're a tyrant. You have the innate power to override me."

"Ah, yes, I had almost forgotten I could kill you." Vetinari grinned maliciously. "That would solve a lot of problems but most would have an undesirable outcome, one of them being the fact that you would be dead."

Havelock rolled Moist beside him and hugged him from behind. Moist curled up like a kitten and Havelock curved his body around him. He protectively shifted ever so slightly on top of him. This combination of emotions was completely new for Havelock. He wanted to go back to the comfort of his day to day life. He wanted to once again become the type of person who never shows what he is thinking and never has to deal with this sappy stuff. He wanted to make Moist suffer for hurting him so much. He wanted to hold him down and make him pay. He wanted to never let him leave. He wanted to keep him forever and be the only person in his life. He wanted to embrace him every day knowing he will be there tomorrow. He wanted to love him.

He wanted the pain.

Havelock clutched Moist's body to his own. He moved around him trying to maintain as much contact as possible and Moist complied. He let Havelock surround him, guard him. He succumbed to the feeling of warmth, safety, and devotion that came from his touch. This was what Moist had wanted. This was the one thing he never had and now could not live without. The fear of losing it hurt him more than he ever thought possible.

"Don't leave me," he said.

"I… I couldn't even if I tried," said Havelock. His voice was thin as if he didn't want to be heard.

"I love you"

Havelock didn't reply. He pressed his face against Moist's back.

"I love you," Moist repeated with more certainty.

"I can't… I can't fall in love. I won't love you. I can't do that.

"Do you love me, Havelock?"

"It's not enough! This isn't right! There's no balance!"

"But, do you love me?"

"I can't have this!"

"Do you want to love me?"

"More than anything."

"Then I'll let you. You can love me and I will be happy. You can hold me and I will fly. Stay by my side and I will be there with you."

"It's too much…"

"Will you love me? Will you protect me?"

"Yes!"

"Do you love me?"

"Yes…"

"Say it."

"I… I love you."

"I love you too."

"Now don't make me say it again."

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"How patient can you be, Moist? Will you be able to wait? A year might be sufficient."

"Can I stay with you during that time?"

"Yes, if that is what you want."

"Maybe you will let me be your vice."

"I believe you already are."

"I mean your second in command."

"You want to make our relationship political?"

"There is no way you're going to stop being a politician. It's a big part of your life. I might as well join in."

"I'm not sure my credibility can withstand that. I will need to seriously redesign my public image."