Author notes: My apologies for this chapter taking a longer than usual time (at least, I think it's longer than usual. Do I normally take this long? Oo)

Saffron Starilight: Welcome and thanks for finding it adorable!

Gestalt: Oh yess, of course Drumknott keeps a diary! And he doesn't even put it in code either. Tut, tut.

Inigo: LOL, thank you very much for your reviews! As Drumknott might put it: V. appreciated

Akira Rae: snickersnicker Welcome, glad to see you! Cato misses you too. Hehe.

The Once Lady-Twatterby Now Drummers: I love your art. Seriously. I suspect this chapter was inspired all from the pictures you've done. One just can't get bored with Discworld, or Vetinari and Drumknott, when you're there drawing it all down. Thank you!

15th Sektober

Lord V's dog bit Brian on behind. Clerk Brian not happy with good reason. Not own self's fault though, so cannot see why Clerk Brian wanted self to massage bite mark. Much eyebrow raising on his part as well as wriggling. Either dog had rabies, or Clerk Brian has been working too hard. Will mention to Lord V.

17th Sektober

Laundress discovered meat in Clerk Brian's back pocket. That's why Wuffles bit him. V. careless of Clerk Brian, must say.

18th Sektober

Caricature of Lord V. in the Times again. Have cut it out as self finds it v. amusing. Sketch is about Lord V's recent visit to Klatch. Involves busty virgins. Artist got gleam of oil on Lord V's stomach v. well though.

20th Sektober

Artist thrown into scorpion pit. Got him to sign caricature.

21st Sektober

Clerk Brian gave me tube of chocolate. Still having convulsive eyebrows, poor man. V. nice of him to give chocolate though. Not as if Hogswatch or birthday. Good chocolate too. All oozy and things. Mmm.

12:00

Just threw Clerk Brian out of room. Came in with handcuffs and was v. pissed that self had finished all chocolate. Said that if I didn't like handcuffs, he had silk scarves. Replied, "It's not that I don't like handcuffs, or silk scarves, or chocolate, Brian. But this is a bit sudden. Erm."

22nd Sektober

Clerk Brian not speaking to me.

Vetinari turned the pages, horror-and-rather-more-than-a-little-awestruck at the going-ons in the staff room. He did, however, make a mental note to tactfully insinuate to Clerk Brian that he would cease and desist in his attempted seduction of Rufus Drumknott – or he would find that a certain part that doubtless egged on the handcuffs and melted chocolate would be painfully removed. And we're not talking about Brian's loving heart either.

He turned a few more pages, reading a line here and there in Drumknott's loose, rounded script. The light filtering in through the thin curtains (yellow with white daisies, for heavens' sake) made the room a flickering land of shine and shadow. Young Sam, dragging the mangled corpse of his favorite book with him, tugged at Vetinari's robes.

"Ag," he said insistently, pointing at the rumpled pages.

"No, that's actually a rabbit," said Vetinari. "See the ears?"

No! Young Sam would have said, had he the words. Cannot you see? The analytical domains are not dichotomous, but rather continua. The cyaneous color of the manuscript has degenerated into a state of ludification of the original tint! I am fraught! It is imperative that the tome be refurbished! Preferably with sticky tape!

As it was, all he could manage was, "Gaaaaaaa."

"Good heavens," said Vetinari, putting Drumknott's diary down (and just as well. The next page contained a very graphic description of his lordship's beard and how soft it looked). "This is page fifteen. No wonder you're mixed up. You probably remember it according to your father's reading, and having the sheets all mixed up must have confused you. It really is too bad. But as the Ephebian philosophers say: 'Tough luck'. And shouldn't you be in bed?"

Young Sam glared at him.

"Oh, my apologies," said Vetinari. "That was probably too many syllables for you." It was probably too many syllables for the average Ankh-Morporkian, anyway. Vetinari continued slowly and clearly, "Time – for – sleepy." And mimed laying his head on a pillow, all the while with a stony expression.

Foveated flaunuer! May you contract pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis! But all Young Sam could do was scowl and waggle his tongue out ineffectually.

"Oh yes, you are," said Vetinari sternly, leaning down and picking the boy up. He held him ('it' was the term used by the Patrician though) at an arms-length and scrutinized him. "It is, I believe, time to go beddy-bye."

Young Sam wriggled, and cried, kicking at the Nasty Man. Drumknott stirred in his sleep, obviously unused to being awakened by a baby's cry. A soft mumble came from his drooling mouth as he flung an arm out. Vetinari felt a little rush of triumph that Clerk Brian had probably never gotten to see Drumknott like that, dreamily easing his fair-lashed eyes open while groping for his spectacles –

He sat up straight and put them on.

"Uwah!" he yelped at the sight of the Patrician. "My lord!"

"Ah, Drumknott," said Vetinari, turning towards him. "I believe Lady Vimes left a cradle for her offspring?" Young Sam turned his head, and was gummily gnawing at Vetinari's sleeve and part of his wrist. "He doesn't want to sleep, however."

"He- he's supposed to have a story read to him, Commander Vimes said, I mean, I did do that, but - but," Drumknott spluttered, unwittingly loosening his collar, gulping at the vision of what the future held for him and Young Sam both. There were red, squishy bits. "I – I'm terribly sorry, my lord."

"Why is the cradle by your own bed, Drumknott?" asked Vetinari, while Young Sam worried his sleeve like a younger, rather less foul-smelling, to say nothing of hairless, Wuffles.

"Er – where else was it supposed to be, sir…?"

"After all," said Vetinari, while Young Sam choked on a button, "they entrusted it to me. Ah well. So long as we make no mention of this, I suppose it will be alright…"

"I'm sure it will come as some relief to the Commander, sir," said Drumknott without thinking.

Vetinari looked at him for a long moment.

Drumknott's thought process went something like this: Oh gods. Oh gods. And I'm so adverse to blood too. Particularly when it's my own. Oh gods. Make it quick. Please let him make it quick.

Vetinari's thought process was more along the lines of: squirrel one. Squirrel two. Squirrel three. By the time he got to five squirrels, the subject of his infamous gaze was normally drowned in their own sweat and saved Vetinari and the scorpions all that trouble.

Nervously, Drumknott swallowed and slipped his tongue over his dry mouth.

Vetinari lost count of the squirrels.

"Here you are then, Drumknott," he said, giving him Young Sam, and surreptitiously drying his sleeve on the seat of his robes. "Do you know, I believe I have just the thing for his age. Excuse me for a moment."

The tap, tap of his cane died away in the distance. Drumknott looked down at the Young Sam, and extricated a black button from his mouth. "But I did read to you," he said to himself despairingly. "I must have fallen asleep. Something I wish, by the way, that you would do." Young Sam played patty cake with himself. Drumknott stared at the black button in his hand. "But who put me into the bed?"

Hope, fear, and hope again, seared his face and his heart – and yes, a little bit of his libido. Disbelief threw cold water over it. Drumknott slumped, fingers closing and unclosing around the button.

"There we go," said Vetinari, materializing from a shadow; or so it seemed with his ever splendid timing. "Stories for the little folk. Sternn Fairytales. And annotated too." In his hand, he held a thick, gilded book.

Drumknott accepted it dumbly, and then Vetinari sat down in the chair, with an expectant look on his face. "Ah," said Drumknott. Don't you have anything else to do, my lord? The words withered on his tongue. Drumknott managed a rictus on his face which vaguely resembled a smile and plumped Young Sam into the cradle.

The boy started to shake the rickety wooden bars and made vague monkey-like noises. That is, more monkey-like than usual. Drumknott pretended not to notice, and hastily opened a spongy page and began to read.