Disclaimer: C'mon, I'm just a fan, I respect TP. The Discworld and the watch are his…but I guess I betta keep hold of the DeLancey's.  Not that anyone'd want them. You'd be more twisted than me if you did…okay, stopping now.

Rating – PG-13 for mixture of violence/lingo.

Setting: Let's say a coupla months after Fifth Elephant

 "I should, er-" Angua gestured back up the stairs behind her in the universal language of anyone who's been caught at an inconvenient time and needs to go wash, get dressed, apply make-up and generally make themselves presentable to the world, and feels all this 'will only take a minute'. The scary thing is they're usually right.

Vimes nodded dumbly, his paleness turning a curious shade of red, as he likewise motioned that he'd just wait out here if that was alright .

  Damn, why do I always find myself in embarrassing situations with her?  He thought, recalling the 'holding of wounded, naked Angua' Incident in Uberwald. What worried him more than the fact that he kept on recalling the Incident, was why he'd felt the need to assign it a capital letter.

 Meanwhile the hurriedly-getting-dressed Angua should have been feeling annoyed that after all her efforts to be judged only on her work performance, she had just succeeded in degrading herself to a mere sex object in her commanding officer's eyes. She should have been feeling annoyed. Cheery would undoubtedly be in full defensive mode now, though Cheery as a sex object was as disturbing a thought as they come.  But Angua couldn't help a little smile…Even now Carrot was still a bit bashful about things of this nature, and wouldn't dream of thinking anything untoward – at least while on duty, anyway. But she knew exactly what had gone through Sam Vimes' mind when she'd opened that door.

 And she wondered if she should really be so happy about it.

~ ~ ~

A minute later*, she was downstairs again, in uniform, and was met by a more collected Vimes. In fact, she could even see that glint in his eye he got when he was on a case, everything had just come nicely into place, and somebody's life was about to become very miserable.

 "Why was he there?" he demanded excitedly.

 "Sir?" she asked cautiously, wondering if he was going to go back to his state of confused disbelief from the night before.

  "DeLancey…why'd he come back after all that time? And hanging around the edge of the shades for gods' sake?"

  They were already making their way through the morning streets at a steady pace, falling into step with each other as easily as they had the night before.

 Angua shrugged.

 "Who knows? Maybe he was hiding, maybe he was looking for some other poor girl."

 She watched him carefully, and true enough she saw a flash of uncertainty on his face; but he looked up and met her eyes with a frightening understanding. He knew what she was doing – she was going to take every opportunity to remind him of what a poor excuse of humanity DeLancey had been.

 She stared right back, guiltless, as if to say what else did you expect?

 He gave a grim smile.

 "This isn't a guilt thing Sergeant. Something's not right here. The DeLancey's are a damn wealthy family, and selfish bastards like him…" He was thinking aloud to himself now, more than anything, his feet carrying him automatically through the crowds. "He wasn't going to degrade himself in the Shades. He'd be living it up in Sto Lat or somewhere, priding himself on how he got away with it…He'd be mocking me…"

  Vimes noticed Angua's frown of concern out the corner of his eye.

 "Us. Mocking us." He muttered, before returning to his thoughts,

 " Why'd he attack Carrot? How'd he manage to attack Carrot? Then why trap himself in the warehouse…No, there's something else, something we're missing…"

  Angua sighed, and stopped him with a firm grip of his arm. He turned to her, surprised at the familiarity and forcefulness of such an action. Standing in the street with all the early risers around them, Angua leaned in and spoke in low tones.

 " Don't you think this is a case you should just move on from?"

 " If there's something else going on-"

"And how do you know that?" she demanded, the walls of rank having crumbled, unnoticed by either of them. "Some 'hunch'? Some 'gut instinct'? How can you be sure you're not seeing something here just because you want to? You want there to be some conspiracy, some larger crime, to try and justify it to yourself…If it was more than the girls, then somehow you'd feel less guilty about all that rage wouldn't you?"

 Vimes stared back at her, unnerved by this sudden insight into him she seemed to have. But then he shook his head, and held her gaze determinedly.

 "If anything else is going on, if there was someone else involved with Carrot's attack, I need to know."

 She started to look away in frustration but he pulled her round to face him.

 "We'll talk to Carrot again, look around the area he picked up DeLancey's trail…if we don't find something, I'll let it go."

 Why do I feel the need to justify myself to her?,  a voice in his head piped up, I am Commander of the Watch after all.

He told the voice to shut up.

 She seemed to consider for a second, before giving in and nodding. It was then that they realised they were standing in the middle of a busy street, standing close, each with a grip on the other's arm.

 Vimes was about to give the standard embarrassed glance and nervous cough, followed by hasty removal of any kind of physical contact, but then something very, very unsettling happened.

 Their eyes met and there was The Look.  Now that most certainly did deserve the capitals. Everyone knows The Look. It's the one where something in the eyes shift, and there's a faint, knowing smile from at least one of the parties, as they realise that the other just had the same unprofessional thought the other did. More often than not its followed either by a slow reducing of distances between lips, or – in accordance with the laws of forbidden flirting – somebody you know walking in talking loudly, and going about their business not noticing the leaping apart, and sudden preoccupation with the floor/ceiling/magazine.

 Angua gave him The Look. And just as she realised she was doing it, he found himself returning it.

 They didn't need an interruption to disrupt that moment. They both saw images of their other halves flash before their eyes, and there was a sudden clumsy 'unhandling' of arms, breaking of gazes, and the appearance of about two metres between them. And absolutely no trace of curious seductive smiles whatsoever.

 They hurriedly continued their journey to the Watch house in deafening silence.

TBC

 *see?