A/N: Hey peeps I'm back! Again, sorry for such a long wait, but I had three pieces of coursework shoved on me almost simultaneously and I didn't have time to sleep let alone write. But, I'm on my hols now and even though I'm not meant to go on when I'm home I'm braving the wrath of David to post this for you guys:) . This is the chapter I hope you've been waiting for…hint - the clue is in the title…so I better get on with it.

SHAMELESS PLUG ALERT
If you like what I'm doing, check out the work of Not your average…I don't normally plug other's work (even friends) but she's getting really discouraged that no one is reviewing and so I thought I'd ask (if she returns the favour all to the good ;)).
SHAMELESS PLUG OVER
Once again thanks to all those who took the time to review, you are food and drink to my muse (who is rather temperamental). Replies follow the story, talking of which…

Warning: Once Upon a Time lived two men who were in love and kissed frequently. Most of the people in the land were content with this, but there was one little pixie who hated even the idea of men in love. The good fairy conjured up a magic spell which she called 'the back button'. The pixie jumped on it and was transported to a place where boys only kissed girls, and lived happily ever after.

Disclaimer: If I was PTerry then the Vimes books would be the biggest load of published Mary-Sues in the world…so maybe its best I just write fanfic.

Chapter 9
Vimes jerked his head round, but the flash was already gone. He resumed his pacing. The light through the one window had moved round and Vimes knew Angua would soon be returning, but minutes chafed at him as they slowly shuffled by.

There it was again!

Vimes screwed his eyes shut and ran his hands over his face. For most of the day, at the corner of his vision, he kept seeing coloured flashes, but when he turned to get a better look they would vanish. Using his peripheral vision, Vimes regarded the last area he had seen a flash. As long as he didn't focus on it directly he could clearly see the winding cloud of golden fog, massed next to another of dark blue. Well, whatever it was didn't seem to be about to help or harm him, so Vimes filed it as yet another question to ask Angua when she arrived.

Ever since the transfusion, Vimes had been discovering new changes caused by becoming a werewolf. Some things had been made apparent quicker than others. Vimes could still remember the brief encounter with the silver taint in the air. Hot needles of pain had woven round his brain, stabbing down limbs which were buckling beneath him. A red mist had covered his senses, and the confusion and dizziness had only passed when he had lurched into the nearby alley, putting distance between himself and the market. Judging by Angua's ability to enter the market-place, Vimes guessed the extreme sensitivity must fade with time.

Not all the changes were as bad however. Vimes could already tell his sense of smell had improved drastically. The fact that he could smell Ankh-Morpork from here was not astounding…on a clear day with the wind in the right direction, you could smell Ankh-Morpork in Genua (something the residents complained bitterly about). What was amazing, was that he could smell the cabbages in the field under the city's miasma. Vimes stretched languidly. That was another thing. Soon after arriving in this shack, he had peeled off the shirt he was wearing to check on his stab wound. All that was left of the laceration that had nearly killed him was a livid red scar. Vimes had the feeling that soon that too would fade.

He heard the sound of far away footsteps and, looking out of the window, could see Angua approaching. She was still some distance away, so Vimes added 'improved hearing' to his mental checklist.

Angua approached the hut and pushed open the door. She could tell immediately, from Vimes' more relaxed stance, that he had begun to come to terms with his new condition. After greeting each other and being quizzed by Vimes on the state of the city in his absence, Angua got down to business.

"You probably know most of what I'm going to tell you, but I should go over the basics of this first."

Vimes nodded, and she continued.

"You're stronger and faster than a normal man, with better hearing, smell and sight even when you're not in wolf form. You're senses will be heightened further directly after the change."

Listening to herself, Angua realised she sounded similar to the way her father had when she had been on the receiving end of the same type of lesson. Angua had always expected to give it to her children when they too would be entering a world where they were different, not to her commanding officer. Vimes' question distracted her from her reverie.

"What about seeing colours?" he asked hesitantly. Angua frowned, not understanding. Vimes tried rephrasing the question.

"Like…smoke almost?"

"Oh…" said Angua, understanding. "You're not seeing the colour, you're smelling it."

Vimes raised an eyebrow sceptically. Angua flashed him a pained smile.

"Ye Gods, you'll understand when you change…speaking of which."

Night had fallen while they talked, and Angua knew she had delayed long enough.

"Come outside and we'll start" she murmured softly, turning and opening the door.

"Ah door handles, knew there had to be some drawbacks to becoming a werewolf." Vimes muttered sarcastically, before following her out into the chill night.

Angua turned and looked at him in the starlight, looking as calm as Vimes wished he felt.

"What do I do?" Vimes said, placing himself in her hands.

"Search your mind, find the part of yourself that feels…different."

Vimes turned his thoughts inwards. He could feel what he regarded as himself; the part that made sarcastic remarks about the way the rest of him handled things, but lurking behind that he could feel something different. This part was darker, more feral, yet oddly familiar. Vimes was reminded of what had surfaced in the glacial river in Uberwald, or in that torture chamber…but this was stronger. He nodded to Angua to continue.

"Inside will be an area that feels dormant, waiting. Wake it."

Before he began to follow Angua's instructions, Vimes paused and looked at her.

"Thank you." he said simply, and both knew it was for more than the advice.

Searching his head once more, Vimes found the spot Angua had indicated. He mentally prodded it, then felt the changes begin.

"Thank you."

Angua grinned at Vimes' words, then turned to avoid the usual moment of morphic uncertainty. After some moments, Angua turned back to gaze at where her commander had been.

As dusk fell, Sybil Ramkin watched a close friend murder a woman in a fit of jealous passion, but she wasn't really concentrating. The music washed around her as she sat in her booth at the opera house, but her mind was far from the dying soprano who, despite frantic signals from the conductor, was still managing to punctuate every line with exclamation marks. Sybil was worried about Vimes.

Angua had come to see her early in the day, early enough that she'd not been unduly concerned, apart from the normal 'he's somewhere and people want him dead' that was background whenever Vimes was out of her sight. But Angua had been so cryptic…and the fact that it was Angua worried her too. Angua almost never came to the house, no matter what the emergency.

Sybil was very worried. Vimes was like a brother to her, though at one time she had hoped he could be something else. After that whole dragon business he had come to have dinner…the most nervous she could ever recall seeing him. She had smiled at him as he raised his glass, and for a moment Sybil's heart had fluttered like the maidens in all those romances that of course she never read, only…flicked through. Vimes' next words had ended that.

"To friendship?"

And the slight question in the toast had shown her that Vimes knew what she wanted but that this was all he could offer in return. Sybil had realised she had to decide whether she could be happy with just friendship with Vimes, knowing it could never be any more. Then suddenly Sybil realised yes, she could.

Lascia! Ch'io pianga! Mia cruda sorte!

The final tortured squeaks from the soprano brought her back from the past to her present worries.

Angua gazed at where her commander had been. In his place was a lean black wolf, with occasional scars showing through his glossy pelt. This was the first werewolf she had seen transformed that wasn't a relative, and she was intrigued by the differences. Angua knew she always looked deceptively refined in wolf form, and Wolf had just looked like the brute he was. Vimes was slender and rangy, but with air of controlled ferocity. Even as a human Angua could tell he exuded the same type of aura that Gavin had worn like a cloak. He was looking at her with one ear cocked, the wolf equivalent of raising eyebrows in amazement.

"Turn around and I'll be with you in a minute."

Vimes did so, and Angua completed her own change.

Vimes turned and surveyed the newly transformed Angua. He had seen her in wolf form before, but she looked different somehow. She started towards him and Vimes bristled involuntarily, but as Angua reached him she squatted and licked his muzzle. Vimes had no clue why, but that felt right somehow, just as it was right for him to carry his tail above the level of his back. He noticed Angua was keeping her tail lower, and for some reason that also was the way it should be.

Aware of Angua watching with an almost maternal air, Vimes took a look around the landscape. He was aware his sight was better in the dark than it had been, but everything seemed flat and colourless, until he took a smell. Instantly the night time vista was awash with colour, in twisting trails and pools of scent. Vimes could see the fraying golden ribbon that was Angua's trace, right up until it was swallowed by the hulking black mass that was Ankh-Morpork. Looking back towards the hut he could see…

The piles of clothing belonging to himself and Angua.

"Yes, we will need some careful diplomacy when changing back."

Vimes turned his gaze back to Angua.

"We can talk normally?"

"Not really…its just you're hearing in the same language your speaking. Always useful, especially as wolves aren't that good at sign language."

"So we could communicate with real wolves too?"

"If you can get close enough to hear what they're saying, you're too close. Real wolves…don't really like us."

Angua shook herself to drive away the memories, then looking at Vimes she crouched low as if to spring before whirling round and sprinting into the night, a teasing howl floating away behind her. Vimes ran out his tongue in a wolf laugh, then followed her into the blackness.

Tbc………………

Hope you enjoyed that…some parts were harder to write than others. In case anyone was wondering, the Italian I used means:

'Leave me to languish, leave me to die here.'

It's from an opera by Handel and I thank him for the lone of it. And now to my superlative reviewers:

Elliot: Glad you think so! Sorry for the long wait…how'd the English final go? Stupid teacher…being able to use colloquialisms shows what a good grasp u have of language…not a bad thing!

Rowana S: Ooh sweet praise! Thanks soo much this was a wonderful review. Sorry u've had to wait so long for the update, hope you're still interested!

Deathwisher: Your hinting has (finally) produced results. Interesting point about Vetinari ( damn damn damn!), I'll have to put something in next time.

Iceintheink: Yay, you picked up exactly the idea I was going for! Really sorry about the grammar, I try to proof-read but sometimes the brain reads what it wants to see not what's there…

Erin McClanahan: Believe me, the werewolf bit shocked me too! Glad u like my flashbacks too, though really it just gave me an excuse to read PTerry again! Remember, Vimes is a Duke cause Vetinari made him one…not due to marrying Sybil.

Estelendur: Yay you're back! Was worried I'd scared you off for good. Hope this chappie is as good as the last three.

Myrndraug: Wow, someone actually reads my fevered ramblings (not the story the other bit ;) )! Hope you liked it.

Not Your Average: Ha, knew we'd get you back. You didn't think I could update at home but LOOK! Muwahahahahah! (cough) sorry. And look, this chappie Angua doesn't us a single word beginning with v (yes I checked, sad or what!). Enjoy the break in the plot, it was for you…can you tell which disc character I'm taking the p/ss of… huh can ya?

Well, till next time!