A/N: Woo-hoo, my exams are finally over! Now I can finally get back to the important things in life, namely writing, until I have to panic about the results day. Don't panic you say? Well as anyone who knows me will tell you, that's like asking water to flow uphill, so all I can do is try to put it off as long as possible. Anyway, I hope people are still interested in this story, as I'm fairly sure there will only be a couple more chapters…until the sequel that is! I had a lot of fun writing parts of this chapter, and I hope the humour I was trying for comes across. The revelation about Constable Ping is in part inspired by and dedicated to 'Monstrous Regiment', which I just re-read. Astute PTerry fans will be able to guess from that what the revelation is. Another huge thank you to all those who have read and reviewed…it is truly appreciated. See to the end for replies…though I hope you read that little bit of story that comes in the middle:

Warning: In this story, men know each other. I mean that in the way the Bible uses the term 'knew'…so you have been warned!

Disclaimer: If I did own the Discworld series, I doubt I would be frantically trying to get a paying job so I can eat at university.

Chapter 11

Vimes paused with his hand on the watch house door. Even though he didn't want to admit it, Vimes was dreading going in. No matter what story Angua had concocted, his absence would still have been noted and remarked on. For that matter, Vimes had no idea what story Angua had come up with, which would leave him in an awkward situation if he was asked for specifics.

Vimes was also dreading the explanations he would have to give. He had already decided it would be a bad idea to tell the whole watch…in fact the fewer people that knew the better. If the change became common knowledge, Vimes knew his position would be compromised. The rich and powerful in Ankh-Morpork were happy (or at least not vocally unhappy) to have a werewolf represented in the Watch, it allowed them to hold up their head in society and explain how forward thinking the city was, yes indeed. But those same people would react very differently to a werewolf in their midst, and Vimes couldn't afford to have his job made even more difficult than it already was. Vimes also knew he didn't want to put Vetinari in the position of choosing between supporting him or bowing to the majority, a choice where no one really won.

Carrot, Colon and Nobby were the best and only choice.

As he entered the watch house, Vimes became aware of something strange. He could smell Carrot was upstairs, and could see the fresh orange trail that marked his earnest passage. There was only one other person in the Watch house, Vimes having timed his arrival deliberately earlier than most of the Watch. The scent of strangeness emanated from him. Constable Ping looked up from the desk as Vimes approached and smiled in greeting. Vimes nodded in acknowledgement, trying to appear outwardly normal whilst at the same time furiously analysing the odd overtone to the bluish-white cloud that was Ping. Vimes was halfway up the stairs to his office when it hit him. Ping smelt…female? Shaking his head, Vimes put it down as simply being unused to the new senses at his disposal, but made a mental note to question Angua later.

Vimes slipped into his office and sat behind his desk, groaning at the sight of the paper pile which seemed to have grown even larger in his absence. A moment later he heard the creak on the floor outside that signalled Carrot was about to knock.

"Come in" Vimes said, not waiting. He hoped Carrot had simply heard him on the stairs and not seen his lost in thought outside.

"Good to see you back sir," Carrot enthused. "Was the Patrician's assignment successful?"

"Err, yes…" Vimes said, trying to look as though he knew exactly what had happened on said mission and hoping Angua had been vague. "But I'll need to see you and Igor, as well as Angua, Colon and Nobby as soon as they arrive."

Thankfully, Carrot seemed to pick up on Vimes' desperate plea that no further questions be asked, and smoothly carried on.

"Now you're back, I need you to sign the wages chitty sir. I put it on your desk."

At Vimes' despairing look Carrot added wearily, "Second pile from the left, by the half buried coffee mug."

After Vimes had found the chitty and (by resting on one of the more stable piles) signed it, Carrot took it and then continued.

"There's also a new recruit to be signed in today, he arrived shortly after you did. Shall I send him up?"

Vimes personally thought this was the last thing he wanted to deal with now, but then the job always did come before personal preferences. He nodded his assent, and waited until Carrot had gone to let his head sink down to rest on the tallest stack of paperwork. It was times like this his hand wanted to slide to the drawer, but Vimes knew all that was in it know was that damn inspirational paperweight Carrot had got him in the days the man…dwarf, didn't know any better.

The next minute, Vimes raised his head quickly, and not just because the pile was showing suspicions of sliding. Something had entered the watch house, and its very presence was a blow to his senses. It was like a throbbing locus of red moving up the stairs to his office, and the closer it got, the greater the feeling of dizzying pain grew, pain that was strangely familiar. If Vimes had been in wolf form, whatever it was would have had him snarling, ears flat against his head. As, however, he was not in wolf form, and such behaviour would have been deemed strange when coming from the commander of the watch, he did nothing. Well, almost nothing. An astute observer would have noticed the slight tightening of his jaw, and the tension in his frame, that belied his seeming calm.

Carrot ushered the new recruit into the office, but Vimes was distracted by the waved of red that originated from around the new boy's neck. Vimes finally recognised what he could feel, it was identical to in the marketplace when he had encountered silver for the first time. As he went through the automatic ritual of giving the shilling and the oath, Vimes was seething with rage, not so much for himself as for Angua. This recruit had come into the Watch wearing silver, knowing full well of the presence of a werewolf in the ranks. Vimes was also trying to think of a way to call the boy on this. He couldn't simply reveal it, not without explaining just how he could feel the taint of the silver in the air.

Luckily, the problem was solved for him. As the recruit leant forward to sign his name, the silver coin he had on a chain around his neck slipped out of his shirt. Carrot's sudden intake of breath let Vimes know he was not the only one to see the coin, and realise the ramifications. As Vimes reached out, his mind was already screaming at what he was going to do. Vimes ignored it, thinking of a similar situation with Rust and a lump of coal from the fire.

This time, however, it was far worse. As Vimes' fingers closed round the coin to snatch it from the boy's neck, the pain shot in waves down his arm.

"What is this?" Vimes snarled, as agony fogged his mind. Not waiting for an answer he continued, "You would wear bloody silver in the watch."

"B-but sir," stammered the now terrified youth, "There's a werewolf in the watch…"

"Who happens to be a valued member of said watch and your superior officer," Vimes cut him off icily. "Get him out of my sight," he added to Carrot.

For a minute it looked as though the young man might try to further his case, but one look at Vimes' face persuaded him that suicide was not a good way to further his career.

Carrot took the boy out of the office with none of his usual cheeriness. After a few second muted conversation, Carrot was back.

"I sent him to the palace to deliver the…"

Carrot trailed off because Vimes had opened his hand and let the necklace fall to the desk. In the centre of his palm was an angry red burn. Carrot's face remained carefully blank, but Vimes knew that was deceptive. Mercifully, at that moment, the creaking stairs heralded the arrival of the others he needed to tell.

Drumknott looked up as someone entered the room. A nervous young man in a watch uniform was standing in the doorway, a crumpled wage chitty held in his shaking hand. As he waved him to take a seat, Drumknott idly wondered what the boy had done to annoy Vimes, resulting in a trip to the Patrician on what was obviously his first day. Usually Vimes allowed new recruits to be fully prepared by senior officers before allowing them anywhere near Vetinari.

A few minutes later, when he was back from telling Vetinari of his visitor, he sneaked a quick look at the lad. The sound of the clock was obviously getting to him. He kept flinching whenever a tick was too early, and you could visibly see him straining to hear the tock each time it was that half moment too late. Drumknott pitied the boy's timing. Due to recent events, Vetinari was less tolerant than usual of those who came to see him. This boy didn't have a prayer.

Vimes sat back as the senior watchmen began to file out of his office. Their reactions had been all he hoped and expected from them, shock and anger at the situation and the choices made, but no reservations about what he now was. He had asked Angua to stay behind, but before the others left, he had one last thing to say.

"If anyone breaths a word of this to Reg…" Vimes paused and gave a predatory grin, "I will be very unhappy."

This got some grins from the squad as they left. Igor had hung back with Angua and now he approached the desk and began talking in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Ath you know thur, Igors have exthperience working for thuch kinds of mathter. If you ever have any little jobth for me, even the odd body to remove, I'm happy to thurve."

Vimes didn't dare look at Angua, whose shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. Ye Gods, you could take the Igor out of Uberwald but you couldn't take the Uberwald out of the Igor.

"That…won't be necessary," Vimes managed.

Igor shrugged, an interesting manoeuvre for an Igor, and left. Angua closed the door after him and moved closer to Vimes.

"I was wondering when he'd get round to making that offer."

"You knew?" Vimes exclaimed.

"Of course. He made me the same offer soon after he arrived here."

Vimes suddenly remembered the reason he had asked Angua to stay.

"About Constable Ping…" He began, and then tailed off.

Angua grinned broadly as she replied.

"Yes, she is very happy in the watch. Guess the Borogravians aren't the only ones to try a bit of cross-dressing to get ahead."

The smile left her face as she moved to more serious matters.

"I heard what happened earlier, Carrot told me as the others left."

"I'm sorry," Vimes murmured. "I never noticed before."

"How could you have done." She replied wearily. "Besides, he isn't the only one, there are many more like it."

Vimes made to speak but Angua cut him off.

"It's ok. Once they get to know me most stop wearing whatever it was, and those that don't usually go to another job as soon as one is offered. People will always have prejudices, however much a well meaning Watch commander tries to intimidate them out."

She turned to leave, but just before she went out the door, Vimes heard her whisper:

"But thanks for trying."

Tbc………
And now the replies to those people kind enough to stick with these ravings!

Rowana S: Finally, validation for my Sybil! She's the character I find hardest to write, so any praise relating to her is extremely welcome. Thanks for the luck also, it came in very handy!

Gestalt: With praise like that, how could I resist updating to see if the pattern holds? I hope my exams went well too, so lets hope somebody's listening to both of us!

Not your average: I am updating this rather than eating at school, so I hope you're happy with it! This is longer than before, and I'm not lying this time. There is another Drumknott insert this time, so go-go personality man. And as for the dark side of the force, that way only leads to copious burning and melodramatic outbursts, so I'd stay away if I were you.

Deathwisher: You're back! I saw your account was no longer active and feared the worst, but here you are glaring at me once again. Hope your questions as to the watchmen's reactions were covered in this chapter, if not, I will try to fix my plot holes better in future!

Jumping-Jo: Here is your update, and as for the undead thing…blame my muse and plot bunnies.

Elliot: Well done, you survived the school system…at least for now. Glad another person liked Sybil, I find her really hard to write convincingly and it always takes me ages. I'm not sure exactly how old Drumknott is, but I always think of him as young to middle-aged at the most.

Alugilac: Glad you understand, and here is another update. I hope you like it as much!

L'esthete: Now I wonder who this could be? Definitely the most mature review I have ever received thus far…even though the flattery is a tad shameless. I hope my writing continues to live up to your high standards.