Only a few minutes later Vimes arrived at the monastery. Breathing heavily, he had to take a breather before knocking on the door. By the time the heavy wooden portal was opened, he had recovered enough to speak without panting. It was the monk Vimes had met in the alleyway not many minutes ago who had opened the door. Silently, the bald man led him through the corridors until Vimes couldn't be sure where he had come from anymore. In the end he found himself in the garden once again where Sweeper was already waiting for him. The old man was sitting on a bench staring very concentrated into the air.

Vimes waited for the monk to say something, not very patiently, though. So after the commander had waited for a few seconds he lost interest in being polite and spoke up.

"Where did you bring the boy to?" Vimes asked. Sweeper didn't react to the question, and not a single change in his behavior was to be seen. The commander thought that perhaps the monk hadn't heard him at all.

As the monk finally spoke he did so without turning his head or any other indication that he had noticed Vimes' presence. His gaze was still fixed on the garden.

"He is safe, and that should suffice." In Vimes opinion it did not, but the commander decided not to ask any further questions on that matter. This was a time where questions commonly stayed unanswered, or so it seemed. After they had stayed silent for several minutes Vimes couldn't resist anymore. He had to ask, "What is going to happen now?"

"We will wait for the right moment. It is a very complicated matter to send someone back forward to a certain point in time," Sweeper answered slowly. He still hadn't bothered to look at Vimes.

"So we just wait here?" the commander questioned, disbelieving. "What are we waiting for?"

A small but honest smile formed on the monk's face as he heard the question. Obviously his will to elucidate complicated aspects of the monastery's business to Vimes had been damaged during his attempt to explain the inner workings of the Procrastinators to the policeman.

"Oh, believe us Commander, we will know when the time is right. You just wait until we tell you that the time is right," was all he said.

So Vimes settled for waiting in silence. He paced up and down on the small path that led through the well-tended garden. Well, as well-tended as a garden that grew on a ground made of dirt and cat excrement could get.

Although the area one could walk on was very limited, Vimes hadn't even managed to complete his first round through the garden as Sweeper called him back. Surprised and admittedly a wee bit curious the commander hurried to return to the old monk on the bench.

"Is the time right now?" he asked trying to let no trace of his mixed emotions show. He hoped that the time was right so that he could return to a place where things made sense again – well where they at least made more sense than they did in this strange time. On the other hand he hadn't had the chance to tell Vetinari goodbye yet. In a way it was ridiculous to think in such ways since in the future he would return to there was a version of Vetinari. It would not be the same, though. The patrician Vetinari was or would be no replacement for the young assassin Vimes would leave behind in this time. He would never see that young man again.

To Vimes' disappointment or relief – he wasn't sure which was the stronger emotion – Sweeper shook his head.

"No, Commander. I'm afraid you still have to wait a bit longer. Although in the meantime you could tell your little assassin friend that it is commonly frowned upon to sneak into someone's secret hiding place?"

Vimes' mind – handicapped by spinning thoughts and a chronic lack of sleep - needed a certain amount of time to understand what the monk had just implied.

„He's here?" the Commander finally asked.

„Yes. He is currently hiding – quiet successfully as I must admit – behind the great tree of Fortitude-Despite-Unfavorable-Circumstances on top of the Building of Cosmic Variety." Sweeper answered mystically, but Vimes had learned to decipher phrasings like that. Being a copper in Ankh Morpork and possessing a great amount of sarcasm certainly helped to form such a talent.

„You mean that he is sitting on the roof of the old tool shed hidden behind that old apple tree?" he translated.

„Yes," Sweeper answered in a matter-of-fact like fashion but the commander sensed a trace of disapproval in his voice.

Vimes ignored the old monk and tried to make his way to said building, although he had to go around a novice raking the dirt, which wasn't easy since the paths were too small for two men to stand side by side.

As Vimes had finally managed to continue his way he heard Sweeper call out, „Oh and Commander? Don't step into the Element of Fickleness of Nature."

Once again the commander took a moment to translate the words. Vimes grunted and went around some dog waste. How did that even get here? He asked himself but soon realized that such a question was completely useless in a not-quiet-magical-but-certainly-not-ordinary garden.

Behind the shed Vimes stopped and made sure that the monks were unable to see him. The last thing he wanted was an audience for this last meeting. At the moment though he was alone. No trace of the assassin was to be seen.

"So you've come here after all." he said, not letting himself get fooled by the suspected solitude.

"This is not an easy place to enter if one isn't supposed to use the front door" the answer was. Vetinari wasn't to be seen just yet, but the sound of his voice suggested, that he still sat on the roof of the little hut.

"Tell me about it," Vimes mumbled sarcastically.

"I suspect your mind is set on leaving tonight," the assassin not so much asked but stated. "It's a pity, you know? You could have changed a lot of things in this city. Many people say so."

"And that's a good thing?" Vimes asked in return knowing fully well that some people liked the way the city was right now and would use quiet a lot of power and violence to let it stay like this.

"It depends on the people who say those things," Vetinari answered seeming to sense Vimes thoughts. "But the people I'm talking about would consider it a good thing."

"Changing things would mean to replace Lord Snapcase and that would be a bad thing."

"Lord Snapcase wasn't that much of a good choice, I've noticed that. But why would it be bad to replace him?"

Vimes hesitated. The words "because the one to replace him isn't ready to do the job just yet" lay on the tip of his tongue ready to be spoken but he swallowed them back down.

"It would cause to much commotion," he said instead.

"So you leave because you want to change things but can't," Vetinari summed up. Vimes was quite surprised by how true those words were although he had considered his only reason to leave to be that he wanted to return to his family.

„I have to leave. There are people who need me," the Commander stated, neither denying the assassin's assumption nor declaring it to be true. Those words had a deeper meaning to Vimes than the boy might have intended. Maybe he was leaving because he couldn't change the way things were. Maybe if he could... But no! Everything ought to be the way it was. It wasn't perfect but it was the a lot better than the best Vimes could ever have hoped for.

„You must be aware, sergeant, that I can find you wherever you go," Vetinari suddenly said, ripping the commander from his thoughts. For the first time since Vimes had met him he actually sounded like a boy his age.

„I'm aware of that, but I consider you wise enough to refrain from it," Vimes answered slowly. The thought of this Vetinari following him to where he was going was disturbing to say at least. One Vetinari at a time was challenging enough, two were like Pandora's Box for Vimes.

For a while the assassin stayed silent, as if considering the Commander's words.

„I guess this is goodbye, then," Vetinari said, equally as slowly. Suddenly the situation turned very serious, as if those words had pulled a lever to turn off all the slow and lighthearted conversation.

„Seems like it..." Vimes mumbled. Now that it was time for it he felt very reluctant to go. There was nothing sufficient he could say to Vetinari as a farewell. If it had been difficult to find words for his own younger self, then doing so for the assassin was like trying to find a way out of a maze blindfolded and with your hands and feet tied together.

The commander wanted to give the boy something, though. He wanted to thank him for all the help he had provided and he wanted to return to Vetinari at least a bit of the complex emotions the assassin had caused, but there seemed to be no possible way to do so. The only option was to do something impossible, something no sane person would do if said person wished to continue his or her existence.

Sending all precaution to hell the commander grabbed the boy and kissed him. It was not a very deep kiss, because Vetinari was after all an assassin and if he objected Vimes might have to run for cover in a second. Still, the contact send warm shivers up and down Vimes' spine and his heart was beating incredibly fast.

As he pulled away, the commander found that no physical harm had come to him. So he whispered, „I'll miss you, you know?"

Vetinari smiled, this time for real, and pulled Vimes in for another kiss. This one wasn't as much of an innocent peck on the lips. It was the kind of kiss that could make up for years of separation to come. Maybe not thirty years, but it certainly was a good start. Vimes was completely overwhelmed by it. This was the most wonderful, emotional kiss he had ever experienced and he shared it with someone he had always considered a heartless bastard!

As they finally pulled back, Vimes was panting. Even Vetinari was a bit flushed although the darkness and the paint on his face were hiding it quite well.

„I'll miss you too," the assassin said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Vimes hugged the boy and rested his forehead on the other's, not wanting to loose the closeness to him just yet. He even refrained from removing his hand which was ruffling the hair on the back of Vetinari's head. The hair was nearly as soft as a cat's fur Vimes had noticed, and it surprised him.

„Go now," Vetinari finally said.

Vimes gave him an uncertain look, but the assassin smiled. „Your family awaits you. Either you leave now and live with them or you stay and die. It's your decision but I'd rather see you with someone else than dead."

Vimes glanced over to where the monks were discussing something, but when he turned towards Vetinari again, the boy was already gone. Without having to check the commander knew that the assassin was already out of sight. He took a deep breath and let it out in a resigned sigh.

"Commander, the time is right! We should hurry now!" Sweeper called, pulling Vimes out of his own thoughts. Being the policeman he was, the commander reacted on instinct. Although his mind was still caught up in the events of the last few minutes, he turned towards Sweeper, focusing on the old monk.

"All right," Vimes answered and with a final look at his surroundings he left to join Sweeper and the monks. Vetinari had been right; the point was that he had to leave right now or never, because he would not be able to gather the power to make this decision if he waited any longer.

There was a flash of lightning.

In the distance thunder rumbled.

Those were the first things Vimes noticed as he slowly drifted back into consciousness. The next thing that came to his mind was that he lay on the ground. Beneath him there were paving stones and his trained policeman instinct immediately tried to figure out which part of the streets of Ankh Morpork they belonged to.

Those attempts were soon interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice, though.

„Commander, are you alright?" It was the voice of captain Carrot.

For a moment Vimes was caught between joy and despondency. He was back in his own time where he was the Commander of the City Watch.

„Yes, Carrot, I'm fine." he mumbled, forcing himself to stand up.

"Sir, what happened..." Carrot began, but Vimes interrupted him.

"Later," the commander said. All he wanted to do now was to lock up Carcer and then go to check on his wife. And after that he would go and grab a proper week of sleep.

„Sir, there is something on your face." Carrot said concerned, once again interrupting Vimes' thoughts that were forming an arrow at the moment. There was not a single part of his mind that was not concentrated on the next task, because he feared that his exhaustion would finally catch up with him should he let his thoughts stray.

„What is it?" Vimes asked nevertheless, not really paying much attention to the captain.

„Well, it's some kind of green color. That stuff is smeared around your mouth and on your forehead" the other watchman pointed out.

Vimes hesitated. For a moment he was confused by this. Then it hit him and he smiled and lifted a hand to touch his own lips. So he had after all been able to keep a souvenir. Maybe this could become a good day after all...