Disclaimer: Although the story is my own, all the characters/places are owned by Terry Pratchett.

I think that will be all...I am new to Fanfiction, but would love you to read and make reviews of my work...I have a lot more to put on! Thanks!

Sub-conscience

Waking up was always the hard part. It wasn't that she was angry about where she ended up, but she knew what it meant. She would have to start doing something, whereas when you asleep, it is so much easier to just dream of everything, anything, than have to deal with whichever alley you have found yourself in.

She pulled herself up, luckily she was still in the clothes she had been in when she feel unconscious. Her linen trousers and her big hood-y. Everything she was wearing - even her underwear - was black.

Her legs wobbled and her head ached, she put a finger to her forehead and it came back dripping with blood.

Well, I could use this to my advantage - she thought as she walked shakily down the alleyway - I think it's time I introduced myself to the Watch.

She had been her before, every so often she would find herself her again. Once she had been naked in the street on a market day covered with bubble bath suds. That had not been fun.

Although it had not been as awkward as turning up in her dressing gown in the middle of Patrician's bedroom. Explaining that had luckily been unnecessary as she shortly disappeared again back to her own room.

The street she came out on was relatively quiet compared to most days in Ankh-Morpork, she sighed and set off in search of Pseudopolis Yard. The occasional rustle of curtains in the down stairs windows of houses and shops told her she was being watched. But she kept her head down and picked up her pace.

At the corner of the roads she was on, she could see that Watch house.

Gods, it's just as he said it would be. It's - there - and real. Well…in a matter of speaking.

She was about to cross the road and head for the door, when a man carrying a small tray of sausages bounded up to her.

'Would you like to but a sausage young man?'

It was Cut-Me-Own-Throat-Dibbler. She stifled a laugh.

'Yeah, go on then' She rummaged around in her pocket and took out a pound.

I can't use this! Damn!

'Umm, sorry, I Haven't got any money. Thanks anyway Dib- er - pal.'

'I don't recognise your face mister…Not that I can see it. But I don't recon you come from here do ya?'

'No, no, I don't' She was rather glad that she had been mistaken for a man. It gave her so much leverage.

'Well then, I'll give you one on the house as it were. And may I say that that is truly cutting me own throat, hey!'

He handed her a sausage. She took it graciously.

Good old Dibbler.

She shoved the sausage in her mouth, stuck her thumb out at him in thanks and wandered off.

'No problem mate, you just remember me when you do get some money.' He too walked away, muttering under his breath.

'Gods, he ate it! All in one…Gods, Gods…'

When he was out of sight, and she had swallowed the remains of the sausage -being careful to wipe the stodgy meat from round her mouth - she took a deep sigh and walked up to the door of the Watch house.

Knock - Knock!

The sound reverberate through her hand as she steadied the huge brass knocker. She could make out people moving around inside, shouts and the occasional curse. Then a voice behind the door said,

'What do you want?'

Ohh, what do I want?

'I want to speak to Commander Vimes.' She tried to make her voice deep, as boyish as she could, and she took up the big shouldered stoop that she had seen men do throughout the city.

She heard someone shout something back to the people in the building.

'He wants to talk to Mister Vimes, what do we do?'

'Let him in, it might be important.'

'No, tell him Mister Vimes is busy and that he should make an appointment.' A new voice said.

The second voice came back and said, 'But he would have to come in if he was make an appointment anyway.'

Someone in the group who had not spoken prior to this tried to address the rest in a whisper, but failed miserably, as she, on the outside of the door, could till make out what was being said.

'We should let him in, see what he looks like and if he looks trustworthy we send him up, if not we make him make an appointment t and then tell Vimes about him after he's gone.'

This point got a lots of mutters of agreement. Very slowly, someone turned a key in the lock and opened the door. She couldn't see who was there.

She whipped off the hood,

No point making things worse of myself - she thought.

'Hello…? I would like to see Commander Vimes on urgent business.' She hoped she sounded sincere.

'Well, come on in' The door opened wide and there stood Nobby Nobbs. She took a step back and gasped, but turned it quickly into a short polite cough. She was good at that.

'What's your name sir?' Nobby looked at suspiciously.

He's him, Nobby. He smells funny from here, Nobby. It's , its Nobby! God get a grip, what are you gonna be like when you see everyone else!

'My name is…my name…is…Corby Anderson…'

Wow, what a name -she thought as Nobby let her in.