Pairing: Sam Vimes/Nobby Nobbs
Rating: K
Cpl CW St. J Nobbs stared at the flight of stairs leading to Commander Vimes' office with not an inconsequential amount of trepidation. An old pal of Nobby's had had the good fortune to come across some discarded military uniforms down by the docks and some of them still had pers'nal items in. Like their bodies, f'r instance. Nobby intended to have the evening off to go and, er, investigate. The only trouble was that he couldn't think of an excuse that Mister Vimes hadn't heard before. Many times, in some cases.
Nobby scowled, the action causing his many boils and excrescences to rearrange quite colourfully on his face. Well, nuffin for it. Nobby puffed out his pigeon chest and squared what passed for his shoulders as he slowly climbed the stairs with the air of a man approaching the gallows. As he neared the top, Nobby slowed even further. He convulsively swallowed, replaying in his mind his most recent liberation of the petty cash and the recent acquisition of a pair of boots that, speffically, didn't belong to him, but in a wider, more general sense, did.
Cautiously Nobby knocked on Vimes door. After a minute or two he tried again.
Vimes was leaning back in his chair, boots crossed on his desk. He was clearly not expecting company. This was evidenced by the fact that he was fast asleep. Yup, head back, hands folded on his stomach, helmet pulled forward...definitely fast asleep. Nobby panicked. Waking Vimes up would put, him, Nobby, in the firing line of Vimes' wrath.
Nobby looked again at his superior, and found his gaze pulled back to Vimes jaw as if it was snagged by invisible hooks. In his relaxed slumber Vimes looked peaceful, a condition so alien to his waking state as to warrant extinction. Nobby found it fascinating. His roving gaze locked on to the faint flutter of Vimes pulse that he could see under the soft skin of his neck. Even in the cool air of Vimes office Nobby felt the heat of embarrassment crawl up his neck. His gaze was pulled back to the sleeping man in front of him. Seemingly without guidance, his eyes travelled down the planes of the supine form, as if he was taking a desperate inventory, for he knew this would never happen again. Is this what Lady Sybil sees every night? he wondered, and startled himself with the jealous constriction that he found surrounding his heart.
No. No. No.
Nobby stepped quickly backwards, panic and terror making the little man clumsy in his desperation to flee. As he turned, he tripped over the chair next to Vimes desk, blind and deaf he continued his rush for the door.
With a jump Vimes leapt to his feet, senses jangling and automatically reaching for his sword, as he saw the back of Nobby literally running down the stairs from his office.
He stared, mystified, as he rubbed his face.
"What the hell...?"
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