((This is the last chapter!. I warn you that I feel wordy this evening... Yay! This will be my first completed fanfic! –sigh- I'm so proud! lol...ok: Review! –All my love,-Lizney Wolf!! Btw: If you don't get the first thing Angua says, go back and read the end of ch3))

You Don't Have to Order Rat
Chapter Four: Rendezvous and Realization Part 1

"-t!" Angua's voice broke the utter silence. She hadn't opened her eyes yet, but was making the usual assessment, assuring herself that she still had all the same parts that she had fallen asleep with. The only problem was that she didn't really remember falling asleep...exactly. The last she remembered was the darkness that came after a projectile tankard struck her between the eyes. Her surroundings hadn't really improved much as far as she could tell in the darkness behind her eyelids. It was at this time that she decided to ask the question that was expected of her.

"Where am I?" And then she opened her eyes, and let out a slow breath of air.

The room around her was indeed dark, but a waning moon shining through the window let in a silver thread of light by which she could see the outline of her surroundings. Really...there wasn't much to see. The bed in which she lay was directly under the window, which was open and furnished with torn, faded curtains that looked like they had been there for years. Directly across the room was a small writing desk with a short candle burning on its crowded top. And seated in front of it was a uniform-less Carrot with his head in his hands.

The muscles in his arms were accentuated by the flickering candlelight. He was clad only in his undershirt and a pair of shorts that Angua had never seen before. Her eyes followed the line of his forearm up to his face, realizing it was much paler than usual behind his hands.

She tried to sit up, failed horribly, and decided that her head would probably stay intact if she laid still. "Carrot? Where am I?"

There was a scraping that let Angua know that Carrot had shot up from his desk with a ferocity that sent his chair a few feet back. The next thing she knew, there was a seven-foot, ashen faced dwarf standing over her. Her mouth twitched, but she didn't dare smile in the face of Carrot's-- undoubtedly adorable--distress.

"You've been out for hours..." Carrot's voice was thick and sleepy; there were circles under his eyes. Angua's smile vanished, and she shifted guiltily as she slowly realized exactly where she was. "We're in the Watch House." He blushed faintly, "This is my room."

There was the faint, albeit unpleasant, smell of the Watch House drifting from under the door...but in the room it was strictly the musty, pleasant smell of Carrot, she was surprised that she hadn't noticed it the moment she awoke.

She was about to say that she was sorry that she had taken up his bed for so long, when she moved her legs under the sheets...and realized that her pants, wrinkled as they may be, were no longer anywhere on her person. Her eyes widened threateningly and she looked under the covers. She was wearing nothing but an oversized shirt that reached all the way to her knees.

"Wha-..." She glanced up and noticed that Carrot was no longer pale, but had gone a dangerous shade of burgundy.

"Cheery!" He blurted, pulling the chair from his desk up to the side of the bed. "Cheery insisted on changing you...she didn't want you to be uncomfortable." He averted his eyes even though she was fully covered, and gave a kind of embarrassed smile.

"Oh!" Angua's smile had returned, especially at seeing the delightful awkwardness that made him fidget nervously. "Oh, Carrot that's fine! I just thought...well...." She blushed as well now, "Never mind..."

Carrot cleared his throat once...twice...three times until he was able to say, a few octaves higher than his usual voice "Are you comfortable?"

Angua crawled, wincing as her head swam with a new wave of pain, into a sitting position, leaning her back on the wallpapered wall behind her. "Yeah...yeah I'm fine." She gave a weak grin, "Sorry I took up your bed. You look exhausted."

Suddenly his back straightened and his eyes widened to the point of forced alertness. "No, not at all!" She could tell she was lying...and she was actually--for lack of a better term--...impressed. If there was one anomaly that struck Angua the most when she entered the Watch, it was the fact that Captain Carrot did not lie. He was too honest, too genuine, too...Carrot! He just wasn't built for it; even now there was the hint of a yawn trembling at the sides of his mouth that he was trying to hide with a look of severe determination.

"You can't lie to a werewolf, Carrot. I can smell the tire on you..." She liked the way he glanced up at her in astonishment while the yawn burst from his lungs.

He glanced at his hands, "Oh...right. Well—"

"Come here, Carrot." Angua patted a place on the bed beside her, her smile growing with a girlish glint in her eye that she really didn't intend.

Carrot swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing threateningly, and crawled onto the bed, toward the place that she patted. The worn springs in the bed groaned their protest as he made his way across and were only silenced when he was leaning on the wall beside Angua, his hands folded in his lap.

"You're vase is gone." Carrot said suddenly, not looking down at her, but instead becoming very interested in staring at his own knees. It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about, and when she did she was utterly confused.

"What? Why?"

"The bustle in the bar," Carrot glanced over at her forehead, and Angua realized that there must be quite a lump there. "Someone overheard you talking about the vase...apparently he was a collector of rare Klathian artifacts."

"I didn't know there were any 'rare Klathian artifacts'."

"He seemed to think so.... He was the one that threw the tankard...once you were knocked out he stole your pack and ran." Carrot glanced up again, "I couldn't catch him..."

Angua, her head level with Carrot's shoulder, leaned a few inches so her ear came into contact with his bare arm. He was warm and comfortable...she leaned further.

"You tried to catch him?" Her voice was rather faint, and she watched the trail of her breath ruffle the front of his shirt. He seemed to give a faint shiver before continuing his account.

"Of course! He was breaking a whole book of rules, for one thing. Assault on An Officer of The Law, Theft of A Personal Belonging, The Tankard Chucking Act of 1685..." Carrot's voice drifted into nothingness for a moment. "And...well...he hurt you..."

Angua felt him shift, and was pleasantly surprised to find one of his muscled arms coming around her shoulders. He hesitated for one tense moment...and then pulled her gently toward him. She settled into his bulk, her face pressed into his chest. She brought her knees up under her, snuggling into his warmth.

"You're sweet, Carrot," Angua said, the simplicity of the word not even summing up the thoughts that were currently racing through her mind. Her face tilted upward, and she grasped his chin in her long, thin fingers.

He seemed surprised, put didn't resist as she pulled his face toward her own. Just as their lips were about to meet...their foreheads met instead.

Angua fell back with a groan, clutching at the white-hot pain in her forehead. Her head hadn't felt this wretched since...well there really wasn't anything like being assaulted with a chucked tankard. Despite her utter discomfort she started to laugh faintly. Carrot began to apologize, but she placed a hand firmly over his mouth.

His eyes were wide and fearful when she looked up at him, one hand over his mouth, the other still clutching her forehead. She shook her head as a muffled apology escaped through her fingers.

"Don't, Carrot, it's fine." Her voice was laced with mirth, and she smiled once more before she slowly lowered both hands.

This time...much more carefully...when she pulled towards him, their lips did indeed meet. Her head clouded, thankfully, because a thought was lurking at the back of her mind that she just didn't want to deal with right now.

The springs groaned once again, with the weight of two bodies making there way into a position of the horizontal persuasion. All unnecessary clothing, which was most of it, really, was soon discarded onto the floor, and Carrot grew very surprised at just how close two people could become.

((since this is going to be the last chapter, I'm going to make it a two- parter! Enjoy...))

Chapter Four: Rendevous and Realization Part 2

The next day dawned bright and oddly crisp for a summer day in Ankh- Morpork. The people of the Discworld were feeling generally genial and the sun was pretty much bringing out the best in everyone...even Mr. Vimes.

He'd set out early that morning, after kissing his wife goodbye, safely hidden from prying eyes in the curtained hall beside their kitchen. With the prospect of a regal dinner that evening, Vimes felt that he should make the most out of his hours of freedom that he found in the Watch House.

When he stepped through the doors, there was an unusual hustle and bustle that came with people actually getting their work done. He was oddly impressed, slipping his helmet from his head and staring around the busy room with a feeling he usually didn't have for his crew: admiration.

"The world is renewed!" Came the unmistakably dutiful voice of Constable Visit. The man was leaning out a back window, apparently ignoring the odd smell that wafted from the river and into the back garden of Pseudopolis Yard. "The gods must have slept well last night."

"I'm glad someone did..." A voice drifted down the stairs, soon joined by the squat figure of one Cheery Littlebottom. Her usual relaxed morning demeanor was replaced by something that Vimes was surprised to see. She seemed rather...flustered actually.

"Did you check up on Constable Angua?" Vimes asked, uncertain concern lacing his voice. Unless Vimes had misread Cheery's surprised expression, he assumed that something must be wrong with the Houses' local patient.

"Oh, yes...yes I did." Cheery's voice twinkled with the hint of a giggle and the skin behind her beard turned a lovely shade of magenta.

Vimes was lost. "And...?"

Cheery actual tittered a bit, trying to compose herself behind her hand. The color in her face deepened the bright red blush that she had painted on that morning, and it helped the pink lipstick blend in a little better.

Vimes huffed nervously and made to go up the stairs. He felt something tug at the back of his shirt and he turned sharply.

"I wouldn't go up there if I were you sir." Cheery said as seriously as she could while still giggling incessantly. "You might want to give them a few moments to " And Cheery lost it, slapping both hands over her mouth and making a break for the women's change room.

Realization dawned across Vimes' face as he saw Cheery disappear through the thick oak door, and he felt his face grow hot as well. Nobby made his way around one of the desks to his Commander's side.

"Should I go get 'er, sir? Her shift starts in about five minutes, it does." Vimes was about to explain to Nobby just what Corporal Littlebottom had meant, and why exactly they should leave Miss Angua alone, when he looked down into the little man's face. The glint in Nobby's squinchy eyes told Vimes that he had understood exactly what was going on.

"Erm...no...well. They'll come down when they're...ready. Yes."

"But I could go wake 'em, sir!" Nobby's voice was a bit too excited for Vimes' liking.

"Nobby?"

"Yes sir!"

"Don't you have something to...go steal."

Nobby looked utterly disappointed, but saluted dutifully. "Right you are, sir."

((The end! Yay. Finally, after a few months of working on it, it's finished! Review please; tell me if it's all you hoped it would be! –grin-- ))