Author's Note: I'd like to know if any of you readers would object greatly to me changing the title of this story to 'Teatime With Jerry'.

The fact was that no one would blame her for Jon's death. She'd be considered the victim just as much as he. I mean, come on! An Assassin was threatening to slaughter her family! What choice did she have?

She remembered watching 'The Dark Knight' with Sean. There'd been that female detective who'd helped the Joker to save her grandmother, or something. Sean had insisted that that detective was just as guilty as the Joker himself.

I shifted in my seat. It was one of those sleek, fancy, spotless cars that are always the right temperature, and always smell good. I had a long, dark coat over my shoulders. It was freezing outside, so Jon had grabbed it for me before we took off. It was a considerate guy I was murdering, wasn't it?

My feet brushed against something. I looked down, and saw the familiar red and white book cover. I tried not to cry at the irony.

"You're a Terry Pratchett fan?" I asked, picking up the copy of 'The Hogfather'.

"Oh, yeah." said Jon, with a grin. "Forgot I'd left that there. Yeah, I'm a huge fan!"

"Favorite series?"

"Oh, the Watch, of course!"

I smiled at his teenage-like enthusiasm. "Is there any other?"

Sam Vimes. If only he'd come here too. The Beast might be an even match for Teatime.

It occured to me that engaging this fellow in conversation wasn't a smart move. I was going to feel bad enough already when Jonathan knifed him.

"Is this the place, Jerilyn?"

I looked around at the familiar abandoned street and alleyway.

"So soon?" I said, barely audible.

"Yeah. I'm good, aren't I?"

"As good as Carrot." And just as clueless. You can't imagine that someone would try to trick you, can you? So there really were people like that.

We got out of the car. I closed my door behind me, but Jon left his open. I'd left the book in the vehicle. It didn't seem a good idea, bringing it, thus letting Teatime know exactly how much I knew about him.

Jon put his hand in his pocket, and said, "I hate to say this, Jerry, but it looks like they aren't here."

Don't call me Jerry. Sean calls me Jerry- "I see them." I said, pointing. There was a flicker of movement in the alley ahead of us.

"So, your parents are hanging out in a creepy alley, on an abandoned street, waiting for you to make your way back to them on your own, instead of going to the police."

I stared at him.

"You're very lucky to have such radically minded guardians." he said, smiling. "At least your upbringing won't be boring!"

I tried not to gape. This man was Carrot.

He gestured for me to go first. "Lead on, MacDuff."

I did.

If this guy really had been the Captain, what would Vetinari've done to me? I'd read that Vet' would give a cop-killer just one chance to see if they could walk on air.

I walked on.

What would Vimes do? He wouldn't kill me, but he'd make me feel so bad I'd wish I was dead.

Kept walking.

I saw Sean in my mind's eye. He was staring at me in horror.

"You're just as bad as he is." he said, numbly.

I stopped.

"You idiot." I said.

"Pardon?" said Jon.

I spun around to face him.

"It's your sister, you moron!" I snapped. "What are you, retarded?! I said they didn't have cells, and you believed me?! Your sister wants you dead, and-"

He raised a hand to stop me, and sighed.

"And you were doing so well." he said, and took his hand out of his pocket. It held a gun. "No, I'm not an idiot."

There was a pause.

"Let me get this straight." I said. "You came down to face an Assassin and his accomplice, alone, and you think you're a genius?"

His eyes widened, and he reexamined every shadow.

"Assassin?" he said. "My informants told me my sis wanted to kill me personally!"

"So you think she'll lie about loving you, but not about-"

But he was already running back to his car as fast as his legs would carry him.

"HIRE A DAMN BODYGUARD!" I yelled after him.

"Lost your ride, sweetie?" said a voice behind me. It wasn't Teatime's.

I spun around. One, two, three bums! Each between the ages of twenty and forty. And there was the sound of Jon's car as he drove away.

"Oh, that's alright." said Bum #2. "We can give you one instead!"

"One?" said Bum #3. "What do you mean, one?"

They were surpisingly more well-spoken than you'd expect from bums in this situation. No slurred words, no excessive 'you know what I mean?'s, and none of them had said 'sweetheart', though Bum #1 had come close.

I felt my heart pounding in my chest. Teatime had a reason to keep me alive, but these fellows didn't. For them, I was use and discard.

"I feel it only fair to warn you that I've got a trained Assassin watching over me." I said, in a casual voice. Or that was the plan. What actually came out was a slightly squeaky, "I got Assassin." which made me blush. Where had the nonchalance with which I'd stared into the mismatched eyes of Jonathan Teatime fled to?

The Bums laughed.

"Hey, she's funny!" said Bum #1, as they walked, purposefully, towards me.

"A regular comedian." agreed Bum #2.

"Yeah, we all love a good laugh." said Bum #3.

"Then I've got someone you just have to meet." I said.

Bum #3 fell to his knees, clutching the back of his neck, which was spurting blood. No one was behind him.

"Kev'!" said Bum #2, running to him. Bum #1 grabbed me roughly by the arm.

"What did you do?!" he shouted in my face. He heard a gargling scream, and turned around. Bum #2 was bleeding copiously from the front of his throat.

Bum #3 spun in circles, trying to find the culprit. He screamed:"What the fu-"

He stopped, because the edge of a knife was pressed against his lips.

"Such language." said Teatime.

He delt the last man a savage kick that made him double-over, then stabbed the man through the neck so that the point of the knife poked out of the other side. He withdrew it, and the bum collapsed on the grimy street, gurgling the last moments of his life away. Teatime used the edge of the man's coat to wipe the muck off his blade, and then the weapon disappeared somewhere about his person. So it looked like he wasn't about to use it on me for letting his prey go. Or maybe he had a different punishment in mind altogether.

"So," I said, looking at the massacre. "thanks-"

The pavement disappeared from underneath me. I was traveling through the air at an alarming rate. My body was slammed against the side of a building, feet still not touching the ground, and my head bashed against the brickwork. The world spun.

"You were not running," a voice hissed in my ear. "you were not screaming, and you certainly were not fighting. You just stood there like a deer in traffic! Were you planning to let them do as they pleased?"

"I knew you were hanging around." I managed to say. He was holding me up by the collar of my jacket with one hand, and it was pressing into my windpipe.. I was pretty sure a bead of blood was running down my head from where it had connected with the building.

"So you were, in fact, counting on an Assassin to come to your rescue?"

"Well, when you put it like that-"

He let go, and I fell in a heap on the sidewalk at his feet. He rubbed his hand against his coat as if he'd touched something disgusting, and started to walk away.

"So does this mean no violent punishment for saving Jon?" I asked, putting a hand to the back of my throbbing head.

He turned back, and smiled at me, Teatime-ishly.

"And how much do you know about me, Ms. Hunter?"