They were walking back from a crime scene by the Thaumoturgical Park when Cheery cleared her throat and asked "Do…does it bother you that I dress up. I mean, you never have and…" Cheery trailed off, ostensibly not to hurt Vimes' feelings, though that statement didnt bother her in the slightest.

Vimes took a drag on her cigar. Ever since she saw that Cheery had taken Angua into her confidence, she had been expecting this. She looked over at Cheery, and noticed that in addition to her worried face, she had on a leather skirt[1], studs in her ears, and light makeup.

"No" said Vimes. A moment or five of awkward silence and Cheery's expectant look told her more was required to be said.

Vimes sighed, tossed her butt, and reached for another cigar from her case[2] and put it in her mouth.

"Are you wearing your armor and badge? Do your clothes impede you from doing your duty? As long as the answers are yes then no, I don't care.[3]"

Cheery still didnt look convinced so she went on. "Don't take your cue from me, in this case. I dress the way I dress because I don't care."

Vimes pulled out a match and lit her cigar. "We may be doing a "man's" job but that doesn't stop you or I or Angua or any other Watchman from being a woman. And y'know, it's good for the lads to remember that we are women, and that we shouldn't have to act like one of them if we don't want to. We are women and we are Watchmen and we can be both just fine."

Vimes blew a smoke ring as they rounded the corner. "So whatever you do or wear, do it because you want to. Don't worry about bothering the men with your attire, and don't go off me because I frankly could care less."[4]

Cheery smiled, and with that they went into Pseudopolis Yard and back to work.

-
Vimes was not one for makeup or jewelry or hair, but she was pleased to see that Cheery had obviously been talking, and everywhere, the women of the Watch, while still keeping it practical, began to wear small pieces of jewelry, a hint of makeup, hair in a fancier braid than normal.

Some of the lads grumbled, but rather pointed glares from her and Angua put a stop to that. But on the whole, life in the Watch rumbled on, with no big interruption, which made Sam glad.

Hell, Saul had a ton of his mother and grandmother's jewelry lying about. Maybe she'd finally pierce her ears and wear those ruby studs she had found once.

Then she remembered that that would involve poking a needle through her ear and decided to leave the earrings to other Watchmen, thank you very much.
—-

[1] quite possibly one of the most unsexiest skirts in the history of skirts, but a skirt

[2] it had turned up on her nightstand, with no ceremony, about a month or two after she had stopped drinking. The engraving inside, "all my love-Saul" said all that needed to be said.

[3] this was as far as the Watch got for a dress code: trying to enforce otherwise would be akin to trying to light a fire by throwing water on it

[4] Cheery remembered Angua saying the week before that Vimes had grown her hair out since she married Saul, but prudently decided not to mention it.

—

A/N: This is a fic I've wanted to do for a while, but I've been a little worried about if I could pull it off or not. I've based the main idea of it behind this quote from Angua in Feet of Clay: "You can be any sex you like provided you act male. There's no men and women in the Watch, just a bunch of lads."

And then I thought that perhaps some of the women of the Watch would like to not have to subsume themselves in lad-dom, to be themselves.

Well, I hope that's what you all get from this any way.