FORESHADOWING

REVIEWS

Artemis: Craziness is good. As to what they do next; the next chapter was the basis for the whole story. I made up this scene, and then found a plot for it.

Ozodrac: Maybe you could wipe it from your memory? Hehe. Seriously, if you hadn't helped me I'd have been stuck; this fic now exists because of you. Thank you. :hugs:

Jess: I rock? Yay me! When're you going to update L&D, anyway? LOVE the new picture… :joins the perv club:

Ned: Ah, another regular. You guys are like my fan club. I adore you all for it, and since you asked so nicely I'll try and update soon.

CHAPTER FIVE

"I don't like this."

Angua looked at Carrot. "Well, if you think of a better plan feel free to share," she told him bluntly. "But until then, we don't have much choice."

He nodded slowly and sighed. "I know, I know…" Still not happy, he shrugged out of his shirt, moving slowly enough that by the time he was ready to change she already had and was sitting on her haunches waiting impatiently. He crouched next to her and shivered as he slid into the wolf shape; even after six months it felt strange.

She nuzzled him lightly and moved to shove the window open wider with her nose; a two story drop wouldn't hurt either of them – she'd done it before, without opening the window first – and would be easier than trying to explain to Rust where the 'dogs' had come from. The two landed lightly and trotted away in search of their resident interpreter.

"Uh uh. No way." Gaspode backed up and shook his head in refusal. "Nothin' personal, but helping you never works out well for me."

"Gaspode, we only want you to talk," Angua pointed out. "You're good at that. You don't shut up most of the time."

"I said, no."

"Please, Gaspode." That from Carrot, good cop even as a wolf. It earned him a blank stare from Gaspode and an eye roll from Angua; rolling your eyes in this shape was hard, but generally worth the effort.

"No!"

Angua sighed. "Look, Gaspode, we all know that you won't stand a chance against us if we made you help us. I don't really want to resort to that. Itchy and mangy you might be, but you're a friend."

He gave her a suspicious look. "Why do you need me? Just wait 'til daylight."

She snorted. "Yeah, and tell Rust what, exactly? No, it has to be tonight. Be fair, you know we don't ask you unless it's important."

Gaspode stared between sincere blue eyes and impatient green eyes, and unsurprisingly gave up. (Well, wouldn't you?) "Oh, all right… But you owe me. Where're we going?" he asked, trotting after the two werewolves.

They grinned at one another. "To jail."

The dog thought about this. "Oh, hell."

As they moved along, Gaspode cast sidelong glances at Angua. Finally he stopped and stared at her for a long moment through narrowed eyes. "Are you…?"

"Shut up," she ordered him tersely.

His eyes widened slightly. "He doesn't know?" he asked with a glance at Carrot, trotting along ahead obliviously.

"No," she replied shortly, "he doesn't. Nobody does, yes, except you."

"You gonna tell him?"

"Yes. When this is over."

He nodded, grinned at her. "I'll congratulate you after, then. How long?"

She gave a canine shrug. "I'm not sure. Two months at most, I'd guess. I only realised the day before yesterday."

Half an hour later the three canines were standing by a solid stone wall looking up at a barred window. "This is it…" she said in an undertone, turning and grinning at Gaspode, who returned the look flatly.

"You realise I'm gonna have to yell from down here?" he pointed out. "And that'll attract attention."

An evil smile was his answer; evil smiles are even more disturbing when they show fangs. "Who said anything about from down here?"

So it was that a few minutes later Angua was sitting against the wall on lookout duty, staring across the courtyard space outside the old Tanty where the gallows were. Carrot was standing with his flank against the wall, and Gaspode was balanced on his hind legs on the red wolf's back with his forepaws braced against the wall, trying not to swear out loud and telling himself (as he did every single time) that he would never agree to help them again.

Stupid it might look, but it worked. The current occupant of the cell was to all intents and purposes apparently engrossed in reading a slim volume which was actually titled 'The Science of Piano Making', but nonetheless looked up inquiringly when a low voice said from outside, "Your Lordship?"

The Patrician stared thoughtfully at the wall for a moment, then glanced at Wuffles. The terrier, who'd been allowed to stay with his master because nobody particularly wanted to touch him to carry him somewhere else, was staring at the window and wagging his stubby tail with a look of recognition. Finally he said guardedly, "Who are you? I'm afraid I don't recognise the voice."

"Nah, you wouldn't. I'm here on behalf of… well, they're not exactly friends of yours, but acquaintances y'might say. Wanting to know what they can do to help you if y'need it."

A pause. "Is it possible you are talking about the Watch? I cannot think of any other group of citizens who would be concerned… Or who would risk themselves speaking with me. Sir Samuel is still away… Which really only leaves Captain Carrot. Am I right?"

Angua and Carrot exchanged wry glances. She shook her head. "Should have expected he'd work it out, shouldn't we," she commented ruefully. He grinned back at her with a canine shrug, causing Gaspode to shift and growl softly from his perch before replying.

"Sort of…"

"Hmm. Well, given that you say you're here on behalf of someone… And given that there appears to be a full moon… Sergeant Angua, I presume?"

Angua shook her head again and moved closer to the window, looking up at Gaspode. "You might as well confirm it for him… he clearly knows," she said wearily with a hint of a smile in her eyes. Gaspode nodded.

"Yeah, you got it. Just your friendly neighbourhood werewolf. Anythin' we can help you with?"

Another pause. "I do have one rather pressing question… What happened to Leonard?"

Yet another pause, this one broken by a somewhat ugly snarl. Wolves couldn't swear, but dogs could, and Canine has some fairly imaginative epithets. A yip and a thud, followed by the faint sound of paws disappearing into the distance; Gaspode picked himself up and glared at Carrot's tail disappearing around a corner, exchanging glances with Angua before answering in a rather strained tone, "Uh, we're lookin' into that one…"