Times in the life of Saul Ramkin-Vimes and Samantha Vimes

by Seiya234

What if Sybil Ramkin was born Saul Ramkin, and Sam stood for Samantha as opposed to Samuel? So, Various incidents in the lives of Sir Saul Ramkin-Vimes, his wife the Commander of the City Watch, Duchess of Ankh, Lady Samantha Vimes, and their daughter, Little Sam. Massive new chapter at 23! (and smaller one at 29)

23. Night Watch

Samantha Vimes sighed when she heard the scream, then a splash. She won the battle she was having with her bootlaces to do them up12, then went to the cesspit to investigate.

There was a young person paddling in circles in the muck. No, a young lady.3 "Good morning your grace!"

Vimes replied cheerfully, "Good morning lass! And it's just ma'am. You are?"

" Jocasta Wiggs!" She replied equally cheerfully, or as cheerful as one could be in a cesspit.

"Wiggs….ah yes. I think I broke one of your dad's legs once."4

"Yes and he said to say hi…my the edges of this pool are quite slippery,"

"I imagine that they are lass," Vimes replied, having spent a rare free afternoon with Saul repairing the brickwork around the cesspit.

"And I wasn't expecting the tiles to slide from under me either."

"Most aren't…" Gods she was sixteen. A certain sixteen year old flashed in Vimes' mind and disappeared again. "Aren't you a bit young to be out on a contract?"

"Not a contract ma'am! Class work! I had to get you in my sight and report back! Miss Band said I was getting overconfident and I needed some field experience."

She caught the skeptical look on Vimes' face. "Your contract is in abeyance ma'am. Assassin's honor."

Abeyance? Damn. It wasn't that she liked getting shot and prodded at, especially now with a baby on the way.5678 But it was a good way to keep track that she was annoying the people that needed annoying.

"Tell you what lass. I'll have someone come pull you out and hose you down."

"Thanks Commander!"

She returned to the house to put her damned dress armor on when the scent of lilacs rolled over her.

Damn. Damn, damn, damn it all. It was that time of year, wasn't it? She….didn't forget so much as willfully not think about it for most of the year.

She picked a sprig and rubbed her stomach thoughtfully, staring into the distance, and thinking about endings.

She looked down.

And beginnings

—

There were things you probably should not do when nine months pregnant.

Running from the Patrician's office to the University was one of them.

She had to slow down in Sator Square, because for a terrifying second she thought she felt a pain in her back that presaged the beginning of impending labor.

"Please, not now," she thought at her stomach as she made it to Cheery.

Because wouldn't it figure that some arsehole like Carcer would pop up now, and not earlier or after?

Pure Vimes luck.

—-

"Buggy says he's stopped moving ma'am." Cheery reported.

Vimes froze.

The smart thing would be to let her officers handle this arrest, to do the chasing and the fighting.

She was pregnant. Very much so.

But she was a copper. Before Sam the Mum, Sam the Wife, there was Sam the Copper.

She would always be a copper. And Carcer was a copper killer.

She would not have that. Not in her city9

No one else could do this. It had to be her, because anyone else would get themselves killed.

But she was nine months along and there was that twinge in her back again and she trusted her officers so she would send them and oh gods her mouth had opened and out came "And now you can give me your crossbow Constable because I'm going in there after him."

Cheery looked at Vimes agape.

"But…but…the baby!"

Cheery was talking to thin air though, as Vimes had taken off.

—

In another, more familiar Discworld, Samuel Vimes and Carcer travelled through time after crashing through a glass window at the University.

In a closer to this-but-not-quite-Discworld, Samantha Vimes and Carcer travelled through time after crashing through a glass window at the University, and things don't end well when you are about to give birth and have crashed through a glass window and we will leave it at that.

So in this universe, Samantha Vimes and Carcer were fighting in the Library proper,10 and merely went through a doorway when they travelled through time.

She still wakes up with a giant gash across her face.11

—

It was later. Pain had happened.12

Vimes laid on the hard cell bed curled around her stomach, and tried her best to ignore it. Thank all the gods they hadn't tried to beat her. Even if it was a half-assed beating like she knew they gave out in these days, if they had gone anywhere near her torso she probably would have killed them. Because here and now, in the past and past due13, the Beast was out.

She did not like to think about it much, but there was that part of her that wanted to hurt long after hurting achieved its effect, that let out would probably burn the whole damn city down. It scared her shitless, it was part of her down to her bones and blood, and she called it the Beast. Pain brought it out, and fear, and now the very thought of someone laying one hand on her stomach.

Last time she let it out, she had killed werewolves with her bare hands.

And now it was out and sniffing the air.

Shit.

—

If it weren't for the complete utter panic and terror Saul was having for his wife and child as Ridcully and Captain Carrot explained what had happened, he would have laughed.

Not for his wife a normal pregnancy, no. It was perhaps inevitable that something like her getting catapulted back in time with a mass murderer would happen within days of her due date.

Samantha Vimes could never do things the easy way.

—

"You're thinking, 'blow me, I'm going to be the one to mentor myself,'" said Lu-Tze.

Sam glared at Lu-Tze.

"Yes, I was thinking that. I was also thinking about how on the Disc that would work, considering that the John Keel I remember was not pregnant. Or a woman for that matter."

—

"Now, we know that your, er, condition-"

"That I'm pregnant and about to pop?" Vimes interrupted. She went to clutch for her cigar case14, then cursed when she realized that was stolen off her as well.

Her heart ached. Saul, the man she loved was out there, still trapped under the thumb of that absolute turd of a father, Lord Ramkin.15

"Yes," Qu said and went on. "Luckily I have here a device-" and he pulled it out despite the waving motions and head shaking Lu-Tze was suddenly doing behind Vimes.

"A device that would simply reverse time in the area of your stomach to say about a year ago and-"

Vimes cut him off, eyes wild and a hand around her stomach. "No."

Qu, bless him, sometimes really did not have much in the way of common sense, just kept going on."It wouldn't hurt the baby at all! And we would be able to put it right back when-"

He stopped at the look on Vimes' face, which had gone into lockdown and was radiating chill16.

"You. Will not. Go. Near. My. Baby."

Her hands were twitching, either to rip the instrument from Qu's hands or to reach for her non-existent sword, but Lu-Tze figured it was a good time to talk with Vimes on his own.

"I don't understand why she was so upset," he told Lu-Tze later.

The old monk just stared at him. Qu snorted. "No aphorism this time?"

Lu-Tze shook his head. "Qu, EVERYONE knows not to go between a mother and her baby."

Especially if that mother is Samantha Vimes, he thought to himself.

—

Finally Lu-Tze remembered something that would solve Vimes' problem.

"I may have a solution," he said and Vimes' head whipped towards him.

"Oh?" she asked, hand still on her stomach.

"I will just need to get it from the University."

She winced17 then nodded18

-
It took him no time at all19 to cut through the frozen city and reach a back cupboard of the University. Thank goodness he had seen this thing in action sweeping one day 30 years from now. And that he was sweeping a further 120 years later when they figured out what it was.

In this time, the Cabinet of Curiosity sat forgotten in the recesses of the University, still waiting to be rediscovered. Lu-Tze had to unblock the door before he was able to get in.

The Cabinet sat on its claw feet, covered in an inch of dust. Lu-Tze had to take a minute to resist the urge to clean the damn thing off before he went up and wrapped on its top.

"Oi, you. Wake up."

The Cabinet gave an almost imperceptible shake.

Lu-Tze went on. "I need armor a nine-month pregnant woman can wear. Odd, I know, but I think you can manage."

The Cabinet stuck out a drawer full of Sonkies, like a tongue, and then promptly pulled it back in.

Lu-Tze frowned. "Listen you. Stop playing silly buggers. I know you can give me what I need. Now hand it over."

An air of menace briefly emitted from the Cabinet.

"I know what you are. You want to be used. You NEED to be used. And right now you aren't. But a few years on, the wizards are going to find you, and they are going to poke and prod and open you till your heart's content."

The Cabinet shivered.

"None of that is going to happen though without that armor. And if you don't give it to me, not only will the wizards not find you in a few years, I will make sure that they don't find you. Ever."

There was a tense moment-the Cabinet, despite being a piece of furniture, was doing its damned best to eyeball Lu-Tze.

Finally, a drawer slid out, containing a giant leather apron. Lu-Tze knew though that it was as good, if not better than metal armor. The Cabinet was good for things like that. Vimes wouldn't like it but she would also be too practical to turn it down.

As the Cabinet slid shut, he further admonished "It's going to be a few days. Don't pull any of that 14.14 hours crap you give everyone else. "

The Cabinet sulked, and slid out a drawer with an iconograph of a hand with a pinky extended in it.

Lu-Tze nodded. "I promise that I will have this back within a few days. Hells, I'll move you to a different, less off the path closet."

There was an air of consent from the Cabinet, and Lu-Tze turned to go.

The future20 depended on keeping Vimes in one piece. He just was glad the Cabinet cooperated.

—

After kidneys for breakfast, Sergeant-at-Arms Joanna Keel stepped out into the first day of the rest of her life.21

She stood still for a minute, shut her eyes, and ground her feet into the street below her.

She grinned. Proper boots again!

Not that she didn't love the compromise boots that Saul had made for her a few years ago…ahead…er, yeah.22 Anyway, the boots that had thin soles and heavy tops so that she could feel the street and still have dry feet and a worry-free husband.

But they weren't quite like having soles so thin she could feel the myriad varieties of cobblestone, stone slab, stuff that was not meant to be used as street material but got used any way, gravel, rubble, sewer lids, and everything else that made up the streets of the City.

She could feel the City in her sole.

She was back.

Then the moment was a bit ruined by the fact that the baby decided to kick her in the bladder..

—

Quirke's finger shot out and quavered at Young Sam Vimes.

"She shared it! She shared it! Ask her, not me!"

Vimes felt the shock run through the whole room. Quirke had just committed suicide.

You did NOT Drop Your Mates in the Cacky. That was Watchmen's honor, however poor and tatty and worn it might be.

You especially did not do it to someone who was not only a rookie who didn't know any better, but a girl as well. Because no matter how much you moaned and groaned about a gel joining the Watch behind her back, when push came to shove, that Sam Vimes was a Watchman.

She turned for the first time, to the young woman she had been avoiding, who was currently sheet white and looking like she was about to pass out.

"Gods, was I ever that scrawny? Why did I chop my own hair off; Ma was willing to do it for me. Did I really try and polish that rusty thing they assigned to me?"

This…this was going to be interesting.

—

Vimes preferred to walk by herself.

And now there were two of her, walking by herselves23 and oh gods Young Sam wasn't even doing it right.

"No lass, not like that," she said. "Swing your foot like this and you'll be able to keep going all day. It's not about speed, it's about staying steady, and taking the time to notice things."

"Yes sarge," said Young Sam.

Her younger self wasn't saying much, which made good sense.

"Who gave you that bell lass?" she asked after a bit.

"Sergeant Knock gave it to me ma'am."

Of course he did, miserable old rotter. "When we get back to the Watch House, swap it out. Don't make a fuss, but swap it."

"Why?" Young Sam asked.

"They gave you the bell that's three times heavier than anyone else, to see what you'd do. Did you complain?"

She saw Young Sam's jaw set. "No. I didn't want them to say it was because I'm a girl."

Vimes sighed. Yes, she remembered that all too well.

"That's the way lass. Just do them one in return and pass it on to some other sucker. They can't complain, you're just doing what any other copper would do. How did you come by this job?"

"My…friend Iffy Scurrick24 joined a few months ago. He said you could eat for free, and pick up an extra dollar here and there."

Unspoken was "And my mum needs the help, and I don't want to do laundry and I really don't want to work on my back."

"That's Scurrick down in Dolly Sisters then…and you been picking up the dollar?"

Young Sam was quiet for a minute. "Do I got to give it back?"

"Depends lass. Are you worth a dollar?"

"I gave it to my mum."

And she'd tan your hide, grown copper or not, Vimes thought, if she found out it was a dodgy dollar. And you know it Miss Thing.

As Young Sam went on about the tax farmers and how tough things were, Vimes tried to think of the best way to tell a kid in a shit situation that taking a bribe was bad.

When Young Sam paused to take a breath25 Vimes cut in.

"Would you let a murderer off if he got a house for your mum?"

Young Sam looked aghast. "Never sarge! I'm not like that!"

"You took that dollar, you are now. Everything else is just arguing over the cost."

There was a pause, and then Young Sam went on. Listening to her talk, Vimes couldn't believe that this was her once.

You aren't me, she thought. I don't think I was ever as young or foolish as you. Well, obviously I was, but thank gods I forgot it. If you're going to be me, it's going to take work. Twenty years of disrespect, having the floor taken out from under you, drinking…twenty years of shit, you poor dumb girl.

—

As the hurry-up wagon started along its way, Young Sam blurted out, "Aren't you worried about your baby?"

Vimes had been expecting her younger self to ask this, but she didn't think it would be on the wagon used to haul off people to get tortured.

It was both surprising and not that her pregnancy hadn't been an issue.

It was not because half of the Watch were probably too clueless, inexperienced or oblivious to notice and generally thought of her as oddly fat.26 And the other half knew and probably didn't care because they didn't like her anyway.

She was surprised that it hadn't been brought up at all; subjectively speaking it would be a good way to get her dismissed or fired.

But…well Tilden was desperate for a semi-decent sergeant, she remembered that. And John….Joanna Keel came as highly recommended as one could in these bad old days.

Hell, Tilden was desperate enough for officers in general that he took in a scrawny slip of a girl a week ago.

Damn. The man had his faults, but he had done a massive service to her by hiring her. Twice.

"Well Lance-Constable, this is still a baby that will need a roof over its head, as will my mother."2728

"But you're nine months gone, for su-"

Vimes smacked a hand over Young Sam's mouth. Damn her younger self for being as curious and observant as she!

"Not another word about that. I have my reasons and that's all you need to know lance-constable," she sternly said, emphasizing Young Sam's rank.

A perverse little imp29 made her say, "Any way lass, you may find yourself in this position one day."

Young Sam gave her a stonefaced look that Vimes knew rather well. "I'm never having kids. There ain't nothing here for them."

It was easy to forget, as the years went by since she met Carrot, how godsdamned miserable she had been before he had upended her life.

She looked at Young Sam. How could she say things would get better when she wasn't even sure there was a better for her to return to?

She settled for, "All we can do is keep going, and make the best of what life deals us."30

—

Vimes and Young Sam were on the hurry up wagon, the curfew breakers in the back. She ignored some of the less inspired bribe offers and fished in her armor for her cigar case. She liked to hold it when she wanted a smoke, in lieu of actually smoking. But of course, it was not there.

For a minute there was more anger than despair, and then more sorrow than anger.

There was a future. There had to be a future because her baby was still with her, and frequently kicking Vimes to let her know its displeasure with this whole running around business.

But that future was fragile, more fragile than a bubble floating on the breeze.

And just as liable to pop.

Sam rested her hand on her stomach, and tried not to think of it becoming suddenly flat.

Amidst the fuss being caused by Henry the Hamster, Vimes noticed a small, thin figure approaching in the torchlight.

"What seems….tobe the fuss here?" Henry the Hamster stepped back and if he had a hat he'd have taken it off.

"Officer won't hand the oinks over sir."

The little man approached Vimes with a stumbling gait. "THIS is…the officer?" he asked. Henry nodded and Vimes found herself getting scrutinized by a pale man only a little taller than her and with beady, rat-like eyes.

"You are…Joanna Keelyes? I have been…hearing..aboutyou." His voice was as stumbling as his walk, all odd pauses and bursts of speed. He frowned. "A salute is generally in order…sergeant."

She gave him the eyeball in return. "I don't see the reason to salute you sir."

He smiled, and it most definitely did not reach his eyes. "We are…plainclothes, as it were."

Yes, your sort are, aren't they? Vimes thought. All rubber aprons and boots and things that you can wash the blood off with. Aloud she said, "Sir." A wonderful word, 'sir', along with its counterpart 'ma'am.' It could mean any number of things, depending on what the sir or ma'am wanted to make of it.

"I am Captain Swing…Findthee Swing. And now…would bea good time to salute."

Vimes did, and apparently the preciseness of it impressed Swing because the horrid little man actually smiled a bit.

"Is this your…first time on the wagon?"

"Sir."

"Well…notime like the present." Swing went to open the door of the wagon and there was the telltale sound of a sword moving very slightly in its scabbard.

Swing stood still for a moment.

He looked at Vimes. She looked at him. He looked at her stomach.

The sword sound happened again.

Swing very carefully stepped away. "Well we….wouldn't want tomake a mockery of the law now would we? Take them away."

"Yes sir."

"But please, a moment. Indulge me…in a hobby ofmine quickly."

"Sir?"

Before she had a chance to react31, Swing had whipped out a giant pair of steel calipers, and a ruler, and went about measuring her head, and then, without asking, her stomach, mumbling figures under his breath the whole time.

Then he tucked them away and said "I must both congratulate and warn you Sergeant."

"Sir?"

"Congratulate for overcomingyour….natural murderous tendencies.; you have…the eye of a mass murderer. And I must…warnyou for your stomach size along with your…nosemeasurements show that your child will probably be….mentally deficient."

Luckily Vimes had long practice in keeping her considerable temper in check, and that is why she was able to respond with "Sir" as opposed to, say, ripping that ruler away from him and laying into Swing with it.

"Don't letme…detain you."

—

What were a few days for Vimes was about a day for Saul.

It was not a pleasant day.

—

Once Carrot had told him what happened, Saul had excused himself as politely as possible, and made his way to the nursery.

Willikins followed in his wake. "Sir?"

"Willikins…could I not be disturbed unless it's her?"

There was a knowing look in Willikins' eye. "Of course sir. I'll bring a drink and leave you to it."

Saul managed a feeble smile. "Good man. Thank you."

—
The next few hours passed in an agonizing blur. Saul sat in the rocking chair that was his Great-Aunt Mariah's, and thought about Sam.

Sam and him laughing with a tinge of horror at the multi limbed onesie Igor made.

Sam and him trying to puzzle together how to build the crib "and honestly Saul why on the Disc did someone take it apart before putting it in your attic, it's not like you don't have room up there."

Sam, four months along, and him painting the nursery, and being surprised by Angua and Precious and some other Watchwomen who all came by to help. The day ended with everyone covered in paint, but the nursery was painted too so that was fine.

Coming in last month to find Sam dead asleep in the rocking chair, hands on her stomach. She was so sound asleep, she didn't even stir as he lifted her up32 and carried her to bed.

"Sir Saul, I do not think Commander Vimes would want to see you like this."

Saul lifted his head up to see that Havelock had let himself in.

"Havelock…how are you in here?"

Vetinari raised an eyebrow. "I distinctly remember being shown at least three hidden ways into the house by you over the years."33

This normally would have gotten a grin or at least a little smirk from Saul but not today. His gaze remained firmly on the ground, and he kept moving back and forth in the rocking chair.

Vetinari tried again. "Sir Saul…Saul. Your wife managed to survive, handily I might add, having to run through twenty miles of snow in Uberwald with werewolves chasing her. She's been to war and come back, and she has managed to survive and thrive in Ankh-Morpork. Wherever…whenever she is, she will be fine."

Saul gave Vetinari an anguished look. He tried to say something and failed.

Vetinari walked over, and prodded him with his cane. "Come downstairs and eat something. If you are going to persist in this state, at the very least you can do it with food in your stomach and in a chair that you actually fit in."34

Saul looked at the tip of the cane pressed against his leg for a long minute then looked up at Vetinari, with a slight shadow of his usual humor around him.

"Make me."

Vetinari didn't grin or smile or move his face in general, but there was a sense of relief, of relaxation, from him. "I would hate to have your wife have to arrest you for causing the collapse of the Patrician when she returns."

Saul got up after a minute of extricating himself from the small rocking chair, and together he and his friend went down to the kitchen, to eat and to wait.

—

After that mess with the lockers, Vimes began walking towards Doctor Lawn's. She was horrified to realize that she was feeling a little bit good about all this.

She was furious at herself for feeling that small bit good about all this. It was a betrayal of the man she loved, the future Watch, her duties and responsibilities.

The majority of her wanted to go home. She wanted Saul, and she wanted HER Watch, and she sure as hell did not want to give birth away in the cesspit that was Ankh-Morpork right now.

She wanted to go home so bad she could taste it, bitter in her mouth.

But.

She couldn't leave, not yet. There was unfinished business she had to attend to. She was here, she had a job to do, as Lawn put it. And right now it was surviving the street in the game of Silly Buggers, and if there was one thing Vimes was good at, knew more about than anything else, it was that. And there was a joy in the game. It was the nature of the Beast.

And it was while she was walking and thinking that she was jumped by two men.

The first one got a foot square in the crotch, because Vimes did not fight fair. She stepped aside and grabbed the other one while the first was sobbing from the pain.

She felt the knife skitter off of her armor on her stomach35 and without thinking slammed his head into her knee. She heard something crunch and felt it as well. The Beast wanted to do more and while normally she would agree, she had other bugger to deal with, and settled for making sure the bastard who just tried to stab her baby landed face down in a pile of dung. 36

She spun to face the first man who had managed to get himself off the ground and still had his knife, though he was looking rather pale.

"Drop it," she said.

The man looked unwilling to oblige, so she sighed and pulled something out of her pocket that she had banned in her modern Watch.37

She slammed the blackjack on to his arm, albeit with some precision and care in aiming, and the knife dropped.

"Your friend can sleep it off. But you Henry? You're going to the Doctor's office."

It was with some surprise that Doctor Lawn opened the door a bit later to find his pregnant, short lodger dragging readily a 6'1 bruiser behind her.

—

The locker search did not turn up a silver inkstand.

It did, however, turn up "The Amorous Adventurs of Molly Clapper" in Corporal Colon's locker. She stared at the crude and smeared engravings like a lost old friend.

Ye gods she remembered that book. She spent many an hour in her youth adding notations such as noting that breasts did not work like that, if she saw something that big, she and most women would run away, no, don't stick it up there without warning, and other aphorisms.

For some reason, her fellow Watchmen did not appreciate that. Though there was the memorable day that both she and Fred tried to unremember a year or so from now where he thanked her for some of the notes she left.

Fortunately Tilden's view was blocked, and she shoved the greasy book back into the locker, saying to the absolutely red Colon, "Studying theory Fred? Good. Practice and practice frequently."

Colon somehow turned even redder and Vimes couldn't help but grin a little bit.

—

What's your da do?" Vimes asked, as if she didn't know.38

"He died a long time ago Sarge," Young Sam said. "When I was little. Our mum said he got run over by a cart when he was crossing the street."

A champion liar our Mum was, Vimes thought. Though when she did eventually find out that Thomas Vimes had run off with a barmaid when she was five, she did appreciate the lie.

He did get run over by a cart. That it was in Sto Lat trying to dodge paying his tab at his boozer was irrelevant.

"Er…my mum says she'd like to have you for tea one night Sarge. She said she knows how hard it is to be pregnant and alone," Young Sam tentatively ventured.

Vimes looked at her. She shouldn't, she really shouldn't, she would rather have Swing break every one of her bones than see her mother, now 24 years gone and in Small Gods and

"Tell her if I can I will drop by."

Did she just say that?

Shit.

—

"You know that bloke?" Wiglet asked.

Vimes sighed. "Yes. He killed two coppers-the one who tried to nab him and one off duty at a pie shop. Killed a whole mess of others as well."

Wiglet looked aghast. "But…but he's a copper!"

"Yes Wiglet, and it was Swing who gave him that job."

The wagon was filled with the silence of an entire troop suddenly listening in.

"I never heard about coppers getting killed," Lance-Constable Vimes said.

"It wasn't here in town lass. It was…a way away."39

"And you were there?"

"They were men I knew, yes."

The mood on the cart changed. Vimes was aware of several pairs of eyes looking at her stomach. That…wasn't quite what she expected, or where she wanted that conversation to go, but she could just hear the Watchmen thinking "ah-hah" and drawing conclusions.

"So you came here to track him down?" Wiglet asked, once again not so subtly looking at her stomach. Ye gods, they probably all had her pegged as an avenging wife or lover.

Well, as long as they remembered that she was their sergeant first.

"Yes. Something like that any way."

"He killed someone while they were eating a pie?" said Colon, mind on the food as always.

"Yup."

"That bastard! Ere, what kind was it?"

"Witnesses didn't say," she lied. This was the bad old days. What dwarfs that were here right now kept their heads down40, and went about laying the foundation that would turn Ankh-Morpork into one of the largest dwarf cities on the Disc in a few decades. But for now, there were no all-night rat pie shops.

"They're going to come for that Unmentionable Sarge," Wiglet pointed out. "Yes and? You want the night off now Wiglet?" she responded

The rest started to titter and laugh nervously and Wiglet blushed furiously. You poor bastards, she thought. You joined the Watch to earn something other than a pittance, and not have your back give out, and eat one good meal a day, and all the sudden everything's going to shit. You don't chase after danger, you just want a quiet life and the pension that comes after.

But now its war, and the war doesn't care that you didn't join to fight, and you're in the middle, so both sides will spit on you. You are the absolute bottom-feeders.

But you'll rise. Godsdamnit all you will rise.

—

Vimes took the cocoa from Knock and nodded at Young Sam. "Let's walk outside lass."

She took a quick sip-she never had a taste for the stuff until she had become pregnant and now she couldn't get enough of it-and noticed everyone staring.

"Well? What are you all sanding around for? Want to go out and ring your bells so people can see? Fancy saying that all is well?"

With that, she stepped outside.

There were people hanging around outside, in small groups.

She slowly sat down on the steps, working around her belly41 and eventually settled herself in. She took another drink of cocoa.

She may as well started giving birth right then and there, the amount of attention she drew. The groups quickly massed into an audience.

She had been right. Close the doors and bar the windows, and you're asking for it.

A pregnant copper, drinking from a mug that had "woRld'S besT dAd" inexpertly painted on it, is cause for a pause.

"We're breaking curfew!" said one young man.

"Really? There's no way of telling on my own."

"You gonna arrest us copper?"

"Nope. I'm on my break, and besides, you'd have run off by the time I'm able to get up again."

"And them?" he said, pointing to Colon and Waddy. "They on break too?"

"They are now." She turned. "Why don't you get some cocoa lads, no, don't hurry on my account, just come out when you've got it."

She turned back and raised an eyebrow at the man.

"Yeah, well, when ARE you off your break?" he said belligerently.

She paid him some extra attention. His stance was a dead giveaway-he was ready to fight, probably thanks to the liquid courage poking out of his pocket. Yes, this was a lad who was liable to make more mess and fuss than actually draw blood.

"Thursday," Vimes said, getting a laugh from the crowd.

"Oh yeah?"

"That's my day off, Thursdays."

There were more laughs this time. When tension breaks, it can go another way besides violence.

"I demand you arrest me!" said the drinker, and stepped forward a bit.

The crowd got a disapproving tone to it. While Vimes normally didn't want any coddling, in this case, if the crowd was upset that he was trying to provoke a pregnant woman, she would go with it.

"No lad, you are nowhere near drunk enough for me to pick you up. Go home and sleep it off, get some sense back into you. "

And…yup, he grabbed the bottleneck, just like she thought he would. Young dumb hotheads were always the same.

"Lad, I would not do that if I were you," she said. She took another drink of cocoa. It was cold now, but it meant she had both hands on her mug and not, say, holding a weapon. That was vitally important.

It must not be said afterwards she had a weapon.

"Don't call me lad you hussy!"42 he shouted and smashed the bottle on the wall.

She watched his face, watched it go from anger to pain, watched his mouth open but no words come out, and blood begin to ooze and drip to the ground from his fingers.

She stayed still for a second. She wanted this to stick in people's minds. The pregnant copper, hands full and unable to get up quickly. The bleeding man several feet away. They hadn't touched each other, there was no fight, but she knew how rumor worked.

There was even a last little wisp of steam from her mug.

She stood up as fast as she could, all concern.43

"One of you oiks come and help!" she yelled, tearing off a strip from her shirt.

Some crowd members, obeying the tone of command in her voice, steadied the rabble rouser. One tried to reach for his hand and

'DON'T." she commanded as she made a tourniquet around the wrist holding the bottle. "He's got a hand of broken glass, and he's still liable to bleed out. Sam, get me Marilyn's blanket. Who here knows Doctor Lawn. Well?"

Someone did and went running.

She was aware of Watchmen as well as civilians watching her in awe.

"Saw this happen once," she went on inanely as she worked.44 "Now, one of you lot knows who this is, come on."

Someone shouted that it could be Joss Gappy, an apprentice shoemaker.

"Well, I hope we can save his hand then. My baby is going to need some shoes."

It didn't make much sense, but it got a round of "awwws" from the more sentimental in the audience and nervous laughter from others.

Lawn came through and kneeled next to Vimes. "What is a bed again?" He looked down and tsked. "Trainee bottle fighter."

"Yup."

"Well, you did right binding his hand. Now I need light and a table," the pox doctor said. "Can you all take him into the House?"

She sighed. She didn't want it to come to this but neither did she want this dumb arse to bleed out on the street. She pointed to some men and women in the crowd. "You lot, help the young lad inside with Fred and Waddy."

She looked around. "And then we will leave the doors open, and you all will know what's going on with Joss Gappy. We've no secrets, get it?"

"But you're a copper-" a voice began, and was surprised to find Vimes could still dart forward, haul him out of the crowd by the shirt, and hold him up enough so his toes skimmed the ground.

"Yes, I am," she said. "And the lass over there is a copper too-that's Samantha Vimes and she lives with her mum off Cockbill. And that's Fred Colon who lives in New Cobblers with his wife; they just got married you know? And you all know Waddy and Wiglet, I know you all do. Have I got your name?"

"N…no…."

"That's cos I don't give a damn," she said and let him go carefully. She turned to address the crowd.

"You lot! I'm Joanna Keel. No one gets hauled into that House without my knowledge. You all are here as witnesses and those of you who helped Gappy in, I want you to stay around to see fair play being done. You want to hang around? Fine. I'll get you some cocoa out; take it from a pregnant lady, it's rather fine.45 You want to go home? Great; it's colder than a wizard's staff out here. I know what is going on out there as well as any of you all, and all I will say is we don't like that as much as you. It's going to be a long night, and I've got to work. You want to stay, I'll have some lads build you a fire."

She picked up her armor and mug and went back inside, leaving behind a few hundred people who were wondering what the hell just happened here.

.

—

If she had been Samuel Vimes as opposed to Samantha Vimes, heavily pregnant, she would have simply been coshed over the head and fallen on the ground before being dragged off by the Agony Aunts to her until-now-unknown appointment.

As it was, she had been blindfolded and shoved into a carriage before she even had a chance to say anything. She hadn't been coshed or hurt, so she decided to wait, and see where this took her.

When the blindfold came up she was sitting in a rather comfortable armchair and there was even a footstool, should she choose to accept it.46

She had no sooner than swung her feet up onto the stool when she had in turn a crossbow aimed at her by Sandra the Not-Like-That-Seamstress. She cocked an eyebrow in turn.

"You know, I'm not wholly unreasonable. If you wanted to talk to me, you could have just asked."

Rosie Palm came into view, impressively turned out. "Well you had a bit of a snooze in between the carriage and here so I wouldn't complain too much. Now I must go and-"

"Snapcase has promised you that you'll be able to form a Guild at last, yes?"

It was cheating, and she was sure Lu-Tze's friend Qu would be having a fit right now if he were here.47 But she was really damn tired of being jerked around.

"And you actually believe him? He'll just use you right until he's the Patrician, and then he will forget all about you again. Don't expect anything from him. People thought Winder would be the one to turn things around as well, and look where that got us."

Rosie stared at her for a minute before turning to Sandra. "Get her a cocoa Sandra. If she moves, shoot her in the foot."

Vimes didn't ask if Sandra would really shoot that bow or not because she knew damn well that she would.

Rosie swept out. It was a marvelous sweep, and Vimes, who was not much of a 'sweeping' kind of woman had to admire it nonetheless.

Eventually the doors reopened and another dress swept and rustled in.

"Sergeant Keel? I've heard so much about you. Leave us please Sandra. I think the Sergeant and I will have a talk, between us women."

Madam was taller than Vimes, but not by much. A Genuian, or at the least spent much time there, she could tell by the accent. Brown eyes and hair, a rich purple dress, and an expression that said that Madam knew quite well what Vimes was thinking.

"Don't forget my fingernails, I just had them done," she said. "And as a woman, you know better than to guess my weight. You can call me Madam."

She sat down opposite of her and looked at her for a minute, taking in everything from the cut on her face to the bulge of her belly. Finally she spoke. "Who are you working for?"

"I'm an officer of the City Watch, and I was brought here under duress."

"You can leave whenever you wish."

"This is a very comfy chair," Vimes said. She was damned if she would be so readily dismissed.48 "You really from Genua?"

Madam quirked her eyebrows. "Are you really from Psuedopolis?" She smiled. "Of course, I find it easier in my…..business matters to never be from anywhere too close. That being said, I have spent time there, yes. And now you're thinking 'old seamstress' yes?"

She looked Madam up and down. "Actually, I was thinking revolutionary."

"Oh do go on. Do you mind if I have some champagne? I'd offer you some but given your condition, you will forgive me if I don't."

Vimes decided to say nothing and take another drink of her cocoa, which she was damn well going to take full advantage of-it tasted like they used actual chocolate in this, for starters.

"Rosie was right. You are more than just a regular old sergeant. You are a woman, and one who's about to give birth at that, and yet your squad seems to hang on to every word you say. After what? Two or three days? I would say that you are comfortable in the company of a woman of uneasy virtue, but honestly, you don't strike me as the type of person who would care. Where are you from, by the by?"

"A long ways away," Vimes said.

"Uberwald?

"No."

"Shame. I have…. Business interests there."

"I imagine you do. I also imagine you would like to have the same here in Ankh-Morpork, once we don't have a ruler who is madder than a bag of cats."

Madam smiled again. "Perhaps. Let us just say that this city has much potential that I would like to be a part of. And you are a rather perceptive woman."

Vimes sighed. "No, it would make complete sense to anyone if they thought about it for a minute. Follow the money, which is what I tell all my officers. Winder is mad, that's not good for business. His cronies are mad, crooks, or both, and that's not good for business either. The real revolution is with you and your friends deciding they want to do business and meeting in some back rooms and determining the future. All that out there is just noise."

Vimes took another drink of her cocoa. "Though you do know that Snapcase isn't going to be much better."

"Many people rather like him."

"Because he waves and smiles a bit occasionally I think. What do you think Madam?"

"He's a scheming, devious, bastard. But he's what we have to work with at the moment. And you sergeant? How do you figure in?"

Vimes looked at her with her stoneface, though it was rather hard to give it when she had a cocoa mustache. "I don't. You've nothing I want."

"Nothing? You do have a little one coming soon."

"There are many things I want. And you can't give any of them to me."

"What about a command?"

The question hit her like a hammer. Literally because the baby decided to kick her kidney. How could she know? There was no way she could know!

"Ah," Madam said and Vimes cursed herself for giving it away. "Rosie said the thieves took away some custom made armor from you. Good quality stuff too. "

She opened another bottle-proper, none of that corks flying shit she saw goobers do at some boozers.

"A woman who can read the street, with the demeanor of a commander and the armor of a leader? No one needs to fuss on how you got here, just that you are here now. Here and more than able to take command of the City Watch."

She felt a brief flash of temptation, mostly about thinking about chucking Swing out on his arse. But on the whole she just felt….tired.

She wanted her Watch.

She didn't want to give birth in this city that was once familiar and not.

She wanted to be with Saul.

"I want to go home Madam. I'm going to finish the job given to me, and then I'm going home. That is all I am going to do."

"Some would say," Madam began carefully, "that if you are not with us you are against us."

"For you? Against you? Against or for what? I'm not for you but I am most definitely not for Winder. And please, do not offer me a bribe again. I will not take it, no matter what threats you lay against me."

"You are incorruptible then?"

"If you say so, yes."

"Not for one side or the other then….and the world doesn't like it when people don't pick sides."

"Tough shit. I like being in the middle."

"And now you've given yourself double the enemies on a sergeant's pay. Please. Reconsider my offer."

"No. I will not hand over people to slaughter, just so you can replace one idiot with another idiot."

There was a moment of silence, and then Madam nodded and sighed.

"The door is behind you Sergeant. Do have a good night."

—

Vimes paused at the door of the house on Cockbill Street.

She shouldn't.

She really really shouldn't. She should ignore the offer her mother made through her younger self to come over.

There was the fact that things were happening so fast now that she really couldn't even spare the 30 minutes she had set aside for this fool's errand.

There was the cough she could hear from an open window that she knew would end with her standing over her mum's grave in Small Gods about two years from now.

She really should not be here.

Perhaps if she had already had the baby, or was not pregnant at all, she'd be able to resist.

But she was here in the past, and she was about to pop, and her mum was alive and she wanted nothing more than for her mother to meet her grandchild.4950

Still, she really shouldn't be her doing this.

Her feet decided otherwise and took her into the house's entrance hall, and equally motivated her hand to knock on the door to her mum's rooms.

Mary Vimes opened the door with "It's good to meet you sergeant…" An then froze.

They looked at each other for a minute, then her Mum, who had gone ashen said, "Samantha?"51

Of course she could tell who it was. How could she not, if it was just as much like looking in the mirror for her mum as it was her.

"Mummy," Vimes said, and then started to sob and hugged her mother.

—
They managed to disentangle long enough to get inside and on the bed which also served as a table and seating

Before Vimes could even say anything, her mother said, "Tell me only what you can lass."52

"I'm 42, I'm still not entirely sure how I ended up here past a magical accident, I'm married, and obviously I'm about to have a baby."

She picked up her mother's thin wrist and pressed it against her stomach.

"I can't stay long but I wanted you to…to…"

Vimes couldn't go on, and her mother smiled a sad smile.

"Samantha, I am not stupid. I know I don't have much longer."

Underneath her mum's hand, the baby obliged by what felt like smoothing her entire body underneath her grandmother's hand. It was her mother's turn to tear up before she looked at her daughter.

"So, who's the man crazy enough to put up with you?"

"Mum!" But she smiled. Her mum was the only person, once again until Saul, who actually teased her. "Saul. Saul Ramkin."

One eyebrow went up. "Son of Lord Simon Ramkin?" At her daughter's nod, she went on. "So that makes you a lady then."

Vimes squirmed in her seat. She really didn't want to say this but gods knew her mother deserved to know. "Er, actually the Patrician in my time promoted me to Commander of the Watch and made me a knight and nowimtheduchessofankhtoo."

Both eyebrows raised. Then her mother grinned. "Not bad for a girl from Cockbill Street. But more importantly, do you love your man? Does he love you?"

"Yes. And yes, though I don't know why-OW!"

Her mother had smacked her on the head. "I won't have my daughter bad mouthing anyone, least of all herself."

She looked down at her daughter's protruding stomach while Vimes was getting over the indignity of having been smacked by her mum at her age. "So what are you going to name the baby?"

"If it is a boy, he's going to be John Saul. If it's a girl-"

"Please Samantha, do not name her after me. You know I never cared for being a Mary."

"I remember Mum. We'd name her Sybil Deirdre, after Saul's family. I think he wants to throw my name in there as well." She winced at that which Mary prudently ignored.

"I wouldn't mind that. I named you Samantha after my sister-I wish you could have met her, she was so sweet."53

-

They talked and talked, mainly about the future,54 but of the past as well, things that Vimes always wanted to know, things she had wished she had asked her mum.

Eventually Vimes had to leave. There was a revolution waiting, a younger her that she had to make sure turned out alright.

She hugged her mother one last time.

"Samantha Vimes, I am so proud of you, and the woman you've become," her mother said.

"Mummy…." There was still so much she wanted to say, would never have the time to say. "Looking at me at sixteen…you were right. I should have let you cut my hair instead of me."

She saluted as her mother was laughing and went out the door.

She would have a cry later, when it was safe for her to do so.

For now, she would attend to the work at hand.

—

In theory, one of the purposes of the yard at any Watch House was for training. And in her day, they were indeed used for that. Not so much in these days, however.

She was strewing out the straw men across the yard when Young Sam popped up behind her.

"Thought you said this lot was useless Sarge." She said.

"Oh they are. They're for falling on, not for stabbing." She looked at her younger self, who looked confused.

Vimes sighed. "Look lass, you're going around with a big pointy stick that you don't have the first idea how to use, and if you don't learn at least something about it, you'll just have it shoved where the sun don't shine."

She took off her helmet and tossed it with her sword belt into a corner.55

"All right, come at me and attack." She noticed that slowly but surely the rest of the squad were coming into the yard."

"I can't just stab you Sarge! You're pregnant!" Young Sam wailed.

"You wouldn't even come close lass, trust me on this. I just want you to try."

Her younger self hesitated again. It was nice to see that her at sixteen had some ounce of sense.

"Sarge, you're grinning."56

"And?"

"You're grinning and standing there, and I know I'm going to get my as-a hiding since that's all you're doing. "

"Worried about blooding that sword? Eh, toss it away, and let's just fight dirty."

Young Sam gave her another look and Vimes snorted.

"Please, I know you know how. There isn't a woman born in a city that doesn't know how to fight dir-"

Young Sam went diving to yank on Vimes' hair, which she deftly dodged. Young Sam then lashed out a leg. Vimes stepped back, caught her foot, and flipped her ass over teakettle.

Not too bad, Vimes thought. Cunning. And quick. But I've gotten twenty more years of experience since then.

"I could see it in your eyes lass. But you got it. When you're on the street, there are no rules."

She felt a presence behind her and saw Young Sam's eyes flick to someone behind her and thus was able to grab Ned Coates' hand before he used it to bash her one in the head.

"Enjoying your day off Ned?"

"Yes, just want to see how good you were," Ned responded, and promptly kneed Vimes in the crotch and twisted away.

The watchers exploded into furious titters57, but Vimes, bent over and a hand on her stomach raised the other one.

"No, it was fair enough! A little hit isn't going to make this one come out early, else I'd have tried it already." She put both hands on her stomach and wheezed more conspicuously than she really had to.

Ned wasn't falling for it, instead continuing to circle her at a distance.

Damn. Okay, she was impressed.

"Yes ma'am sarge. Sam is too trusting. I want to see what you can show me. Like, say, if you were unarmed and a man came at you with a blunt object?"

Depends. If he's as good as you…

Unfortunately with her stomach in the way she couldn't duck and roll like she wanted to. However, she knew that Ned would think her first move would be a feint, and confidently slid left, towards her sword belt. Ned went right and by the time he realized his mistake she had her sword in hand.

Ned grinned. It was not a nice grin. "Upping the ante sarge? Let's make it level again shall we?" and proceeded to draw his own sword.

Argh. Who taught him? He was good, very good, and he was playing silly buggers with her and they both knew it because while he could get away with cutting her accidentally58, sergeants couldn't.

Fine. He wants to play silly buggers….

She hurled the sword at the wall where it stuck in by luck only, but still looked really impressive and wowed everyone.

"Now we are even Ned," she said, and at this point everyone's eyes were bulging out of their head.59

You can always learn, she thought. She remembered Gussie Two Grins, who Sam would meet60 in about ten years' time. She learned a lot from Gussie. It helped that he was small and wiry, like her, and willing to fight godsdamn everything around him.

"What are you on about Ned?" she asked him, low enough for him to hear.

"Just want to see what you know because it's looking like you know way too damn much," he said then lunged.

She held on to the scabbard and ducked. Damn damn damn. Not one men in seven, even after training, knew what the hell they were doing with a sword and damn if Coates wasn't that one who did know how.

Alright, cunning hasn't worked. Time for old and mean.

She stopped, put a hand to her stomach and looked hopefully behind Coates. As much as he tried, Coates couldn't stop the brief lapse in attention.

That was all she needed. The stiff leather caught Coates under the chin pushing him back61, giving her time to slam the scabbard on his sword hand, and giving her an in to his shin, which she kicked.

Ned dropped to the ground, his sword away from him.

She barked off some pointers and directions to the squad and had them get to it before returning her attention to Coates.

"Nice moves Coates, I know damn well you didn't learn them in the Watch."

"And I know damn well you're not John Keel."

Her face went to stone….which she then realized might as well be a complete giveaway.

Shit.

—

Vimes counted heads. There were less than she would have liked, than she remembered there being.

It would be said later that every member of the Treacle Mine Road Watch House stayed on. Which was complete horseshit and completely ignored human nature. But it sounded nice and clean and heroic after the fact so… But yes. Some dodged out the back, some never came back on to duty at all.

But it was true about Keel and the line.

"Alright lads and lass, it's like this. We all have eyes and ears; we can tell what's going on. I for one don't like it a damn bit. And now they're bringing the troops and we all know that is going to end well."

She looked at the worried faces around her. "We aren't going to mess with any of that, and we sure as hells aren't going to be big damn heroes. I know-" and she patted her stomach626364 "-I certainly can't be hero'ing." This got a nervous chuckle or two and she went on.

"What we are going to do is keep the peace. Nothing else. Just that. Now, while as far as I'm concerned we're carrying on as normal, others may not see it that way. So I'm not going to order you."

She drew her sword and drug it through the dirt, making a long gash in the ground, deep and final looking.

"You come over this line, you're in. If you don't, you aren't. I won't judge you if you don't, you sure as hells did not sign up for this and I really doubt we're getting medals from this. I will ask you to leave if you don't but that's it. Now. Who's in?"

She stepped back. It was depressing how fast Young Sam stepped over; gods she did NOT remember being that disgustingly eager. And then came Colon and Waddy and Wiglet, then Leggy Gaskin and Nancyball, and Moist…

Several more were pulled over through the marvelous application of the stink eye and other forms of silent peer-pressure. Others were well shameless and skipped out.

That left Ned Coates, who crossed his arms and gave her a nasty look.

Vimes, immune to nasty looks of all kinds, raised an eyebrow in turn. "We could use a man who knows his way around a sword."

"You all are barking, bloody mad. And you're going to get yourselves killed."

As he went on, Vimes felt the weight of history like a lead weight in her stomach.

—

A sense of duty told her she had a superior officer waiting.

She told duty to bugger off for once.

She stood in front of the Watch House and closed her eyes.

She spared a moment to think about the baby, who seemed content to sleep for now.

"Good lass," Vimes thought. With her eyes shut still, she ground her feet into the street. Then she made her way to where Lu-Tze had taken her for a talk only a few days ago.

—

The wooden door gave very easily under the weight of an angry pregnant woman.

The wall, on the other hand, proved to be a bit more of a challenge.65 Before she had to figure out how to haul herself over the wall baby in tow, Lu-Tze's head popped out of an unseen door.

"Tea?"

She swept in and plopped herself down on a bench.

"No I don't want tea."

"What do you want then, Ms. Vimes of the very helpful feet?"

"I can't deal with this!"

"Your grace, please try and relax."66

"No! When are you going to get me home damn you?"

Qu stepped out of the temple then, a cup of tea the way she liked it with a nice fat lemon wedge in it. He offered it to her, and she took it, though not before shooting a glance at Lu-Tze who snorted.

"Please, like there is anything else we can put in it or do to it that you don't already."

"Lu-Tze said you would find us eventually," Qu said, settling down next to Vimes and Lu-Tze on the bench. "So much for keeping this place secret."

She glared at him. "Yes, because people will believe me when I tell them that the shonky shop houses a temple of time-travelling monks, of course."

She sighed, and the anger drained from her, leaving her tired and empty feeling instead. She looked at the garden, and it all seemed half-familiar.

"I've been talking to dead men today, people who will soon die. Do you know how that feels gentlemen?"

"Well," Lu-Tze began, "we all talk to dead men, as everyone eventually dies…."

"No you bastard! I didn't mean it like that and you damn well know that. I mean I am talking to people who I know when they died, and how. Every time I look at Nancyball, I see that godsforsaken grappling hook sticking out him…."

She trailed off and Lu-Tze decided not to push it, giving Qu a look to tell him not to either.

"I've been changing things, and I don't know how they all are going to turn out now because I've been blundering around, and worst, so has Carcer."

Lu-Tze waved a hand. "I told you Ms. Vimes. History will find away. It's a shipwreck for now, and you are swimming for the shore. All you have to do is keep swimming to the shore. You must keep swimming, or there's no shore."

She shook her head.

"No. No that does not cut it. I'm not swimming, I'm drowning. Every minute of every day I have been here, I'm terrified that I will look down and my stomach will be flat. Every fucking minute, always in the back of my head. There's a man out there who the father of my baby, but he's not that right now, all he is is some poor chap stuck living with an arse of a father. Is all that in my mind? Can you prove that this future is real, that it will happen? Is it real? Tell. Me."

Lu-Tze and Qu looked at each other for a long moment, and Qu nodded somewhat reluctantly. Lu-Tze turned back to Vimes. "I think we can help you there. But for now…"

"Yes?"

"You go back out and Sergeant Keel plays her part. You see it through and hold the line."

"As will I."

"Yes of course, we can't forget about Mr. Carcer."

Vimes finished her tea, spat out a lemon seed, and turned to go. However, she was distracted by rustling sounds behind her.

She turned and all three of them watched as slowly but surely, The Garden of Inner City Tranquility moved and revolved until the little seed Vimes had spat out was in the middle.

—

"You can't take the law into your own hands!"

And then Vimes faltered because oh gods, what just came out of her mouth. Where was the law right now?

What was she doing?

Her Job of course. The one in front of her. She always did it, even when she was puking her wages up in the sewer. And the Law had always been there, even if sometimes it was further away than others. But she always knew where it was, along with her badge.

It was important, her badge, even though the one at her breast wasn't the one she was accustomed to.67 It was shield shaped for protection. Not protection for her, but from her. It protected her, and others, from the Beast inside of her, the one that waited in the dark behind her eyes.

She had killed werewolves with her bare hands. She had been mad with terror at the time, terror for the little life inside of her, and the Beast had given her strength.

Who knew what evil lurked in the hearts of men? Coppers, that was who. Young Sam thought she would see horrors now, she had a whole quarter century in front of her of one thing after the other, each worse than the rest. You saw, when you were a copper, that others had a beast, and how close they were to it.

Carcer wasn't mad. He was sane, in his own awful way. He was simple. He didn't have a shield. He looked around and realized the rules everyone else played by didn't really apply to him if he didn't want to.

Her world was spinning around her. Where was the law now? There was a barricade, with worried and scared people on it. There was a madman in charge of the city, along with his shadowy cronies, who didn't care a whit about the people they ruled, so where was the law?

Coppers said that people shouldn't take the laws into their own hands. That's what coppers were for. But what about now? If it shouldn't be in the hands of those people on the barricade, it should be in the hands of Winder and his crew, who would continue to torture and drain the city of anything good from it?

She had a badge, but it wasn't hers. She had orders and they were wrong ones. She had enemies, because she was misplaced in time. There was nothing real any more, nothing solid.

Just Samantha Vimes where she wouldn't be. Her knees went weak, and she felt like she was about to pass out.

Then there were noises and flashes and the sound of a tambourine.

Something square and silvery landed in the dirt next to her, as the monks went off.

"Godsdamned heathens," said Rust, striding forward.

She picked up the square silvery thing as Rust began being pelted by the barricade.

She stared. It was a cigar case.

It was her cigar case.

"To my Sam, with everlasting love. From your Saul."

She was adrift no longer. She had an anchor.

Her baby had an anchor.

—

She led her younger self and Nancyball to the cellar door, opened it, and stopped.

Cells never smelt good, even when you cleaned them regularly.

But the cells at Treacle Mine Road had never smelt like blood.

Unbidden, one of her hands drifted to rest on her stomach.

The beast stirred.

There was a chair in the middle of the room. It was not a nice chair. The floor around it was dark and sticky, and there was a godsdamned gully going to a drain.

No light could penetrate the gloom, and no sound would be getting out.

She could feel Young Sam next to her quivering like a leaf, and in the back, she heard Nancyball throwing up.

She walked, almost half-dazed, across the room and picked up a little bright bit from the floor.

It was a tooth.

Sometimes she thought the baby could tell when she was more upset or angry than usual.68 Because right now the little one was thrashing around inside of her, and gods she didn't even want to bring an unborn baby in here.

They were getting ready to go to the cells when she heard footsteps.

The beast tensed.

She moved to the rack and got the biggest club she could, and stepped out of the way.

There was someone coming who made those gullies full with blood, who dared to call themselves coppers. She raised it…

And noticed Young Sam, the firelight making her face look even more drawn than usual, looking at her, her badge bright and shiny, and her eyes full of…strangeness.

She sighed and lowered the club, and pulled out her cosh instead, sending the beast back into the dark behind her eyes.

A man came through, having the audacity to whistle, and promptly fell asleep.

—

She had finished locking up the torturer and got the key ring for the cells when Young Sam came hurrying back. Her face was sheet white, the blood drained from it.

In her stomach, the baby did another flip-flop.

"Find anyone?" Vimes asked.

Young Sam tried to open her mouth and say something once or twice, but it died in her throat every time. Tears started to stream down her face, and Young Sam didn't even try to stop them.

She reached out and steadied herself. It felt like there were no bones left in Young Sam's body and she was shaking violently.

"There's a woman in the last cell, and she was pregna…sarge…sarge, oh sarge." Young Sam cried harder.

"Okay lass, try to take a deep breath. I know it's hard in here but you can do it."

"And there's a room at the end and we need to get Nancyball cos he fainted Sarge and…and…"

"You didn't," she said, rubbing Young Sam's back.

"But they-"

"Let's help the ones we can, yes?"

"But it's our fault! Our fault Sarge! We did this!"

"What?"

"We were on the hurry-up wagon and we handed them over and we had cocoa and it may as well be our fault!" Young Sam wailed.

"Well, you had orders lass," Vimes said. For all the good that it did.

They didn't measure up, in here.

Neither did we.

The young woman next to her uttered a sound that was not human: Young Sam had saw the torturer in the chair. She shook herself away from Vimes, and grabbed a club.

Luckily, Vimes had been expecting this, knowing herself, and hauled Young Sam up and swung her away69, knocking the club out of her hand, and keeping herself from committing murder.

"Don't give into it now," she hissed in Young Sam's ears. "That's not the way and this is not the time. You tame it, you send it back to the dark, and it will come when you call."

"You know what he did!" Young Sam cried, kicking at Vimes' legs. "You said we had to take the law into our own hands!"

Oh lord. Time to put a three hour lecture into a sentence.

"You don't bash a man's brains out when he's tied down. Because you're better than him."

"But, but…"

All right, time to get this under control.

"Stand to attention lance-constable" Vimes shouted at the top of her lungs. Young Sam blinked through tear-reddened eyes, but did as commanded.

"We get the living out. That's what we are going to do right now."

"How can we tell-?"

"Just do it!"

So they went to the cells, and helped people out.

They cringed to see her, even though arguably as a heavily pregnant woman, she should be the most non-threatening thing in the world.

There were some who were broken, who the chair and the fists and the knives broke and then broke again. They were beyond reason, or caring, or life. She took her knife out, and, without guilt gave what help she could to those poor souls.

She left the place, violent red and black thunderclouds in her head.

—

Going into a burning building while nine months pregnant was the dumbest, the absolute dumbest thing she had ever done, Vimes thought.

But it had to be done.

She ducked behind the wall when Swing came in, and cursed that she didn't have her sword with her.

She made do with what she had, and ran into the room and leaped at Swing.

There was Swing, with a godsdamned sword.

There was Samantha Vimes, carrying thirty extra pounds around the middle, with only a knife.

Keel got out of this okay, I remember, she thought.

But I'm not Keel.

Swing smoothly ducked aside, surprisingly well. She hit the straw, and quickly rolled, ducking the sword that slashed next to her.

Damn the man, he was a decent swordsman.

And to make things even better, smoke began to come in the room.

They circled and parried at each other for a minute, Swing having the audacity to try and explain himself to her.

"Really Keel…Iknow I may seem a cruel…man….killingan expectant mother. But oursociety would be…better off withoutthat….future social deviant in you."

She didn't even bother talking to him, just let his words urge the Beast on.

He got her on her leg and she landed on her side. But she got the thick metal ruler that was in the clerk's office. She came up and smacked the sword out of his hand. Then she kept following the curve of the stroke, the heft of the ruler.

It came out from the black behind her eyes.

She watched Swing with a blank, intent expression. He tried to take a breath, but the blood coming from out his fingers belayed that. He fell backwards, and Vimes left, the job done.

Behind her, the ceiling fell in as she exited.

—

They all turned to Vimes, who was clutching her cigar case70, expectantly.

"You'd like Freedom, Truth, and Justice, yes Comrade Sergeant Vimes?" asked Reg, encouragingly.

Vimes stomach rumbled. "I'd like a hardboiled egg."71

There were some titters, and Reg looked offended.

"Perhaps we could set our sights a little higher given the current situation?"

"Well, yes, we could…" she said, walking down the steps. She looked at Reg, and stopped the further sarcasm in her throat short.

He cared. He really, truly, cared. He was nothing but sincerity incarnate. And he was utterly serious about all this.

"Look Reg..tomorrow the sun will come up, and I hate to say it, but I really doubt we will have found Freedom, Justice will be in short supply, and knowing this city, there damn well won't be an ounce of Truth lying around…."

"But I think it is just possible that a pregnant woman could get the hardboiled egg she's been craving for the past few days."

—

The news had gotten around even before Vimes had laboriously made her way down the barricade wall.72 There was cheering, and all it had taken was some ginger and a willingness to put your hand where hands shouldn't go.

Gods….what if we don't lose?

In her present, Keel hadn't taken care of Big Mary; the soldiers hadn't been dumb enough to send it.

What if we don't lose?

All they had to do was hold out. Once Winder was dead and Snapcase was in, well. They would go from the wrong side to the right one.

And then there would be seven empty graves at Small Gods, seven graves she wouldn't visit every year.

Could she go back then? Or would she be stranded here, offered the position of Commander for her, hah, heroics. What if she had the baby here, raised her here?

She took out her cigar case and stared hard at it for a second. Then she put it up and rested her hands on her stomach, feeling the little movements of the baby under her.

Let's see….if I had never met Saul and married him, I would have never gotten pregnant, and I wouldn't be having a baby….

Her mind went round and round. Under her hands, the baby kicked.

But Lu-Tze said what happened stayed happened.

She imagined Carrot and Angua, Detritus and Cherry, and Saul, always Saul, frozen in time.

Never moving forward, May 25th on endless repeat.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to go home so bad she practically trembled. But if that meant that seven men had to die for her to leave, that price was too high.

She was damned if she did and damned if she didn't. There was no Sam Vimes that would make that decision differently, because then she would not be Sam Vimes anymore.

It would probably destroy her all the same, if it meant that her child would disappear because of it.

But she couldn't doom those seven men.

A tear welled up, unbidden. This was a ride that she wanted no part of, didn't even know existed, but she was stuck on it now.

History finds a way.

But it better find a different way, because it was up against Samantha Vimes.

—

Snapcase took some snuff.

"Not Keel. Look at what she did in a few days. I shudder what to think what she would do with more time. Not to mention, she would be a bad example for the women of this city" and he failed to notice Mrs. Palm and Madam stiffen. "She would give them ideas, make them want to move out of their proper place in our society."

"I thought you wanted to promote her?" Dr. Follett asked bluntly.

"Yes. Promote her to glory, as it were."

The room went dead silent. That he wanted to kill her was bad enough.

But the woman was pregnant. All the attendees in the room had moral standards of varying strengths, but there was one thing they could all agree on.

You did not hurt children, and you most definitely did not kill a woman with child.

He looked at them, and snorted. "Honestly. The world will be better off without another piece of gutter trash taking up room in this city. Grow some spines."

And then he had them politely but firmly shown out of the office.

—

It will come when you call…

Everything else became irrelevant. She grabbed another sword and launched herself screaming at the nearest enemy who went down with barely any effort.

She saw Snouty go down and she took apart his killer in a whirlwind of blades. She spun around to face Knock, who promptly squeaked and ran off screaming.

And she ran on, ducking and jumping, hacking and slashing, letting the ancient senses do their work.

One or two men aimed for her stomach.

They went down less cleanly than the others.

Someone went for Young Sam, and she quickly dispatched him, in true self defense. She kept on, in an ever widening circle, covered in other men's blood. She wasn't an enemy, she was a nemesis, and no one could touch her.

And then as suddenly as it came the Beast withdrew, and she was just a furious woman with two swords again.

—-

"Tell me one thing Sarge," Coates said. "How do you know all of this?"

She probably shouldn't say but did it really matter at this point?

"Honestly…I am from this city, but, well, I travelled through time-there was a hole or some rot like that."

Ned looked at her. She was covered head to toe in blood, so much so that it dripped off of her,73 and she had a sword in hand.

"Really? From how far back?"

—

Time froze, went grey.

Vimes felt one sharp pain in her back, then another and….

"Now? REALLY?"

"Almost there your Grace!" Lu-Tze said, coming out of nowhere. Qu came up behind him. "One or two small matters of business then we can get you home," he chimed in.

Her knees went almost weak with relief, and with the cramp that went through her.

She could not believe it. She was starting to go into labor.

Well, at least she was on her way home. She patted her stomach. I'd have preferred you waited until we were all the way back lass, she thought at the baby74, but I'm rather glad you didn't start to come earlier.

"We'll need your armor," Lu-Tze began, in the matter of a man trying to ease his way into a subject. "The Cabinet is getting tetchy."

"Of course, sure," she mumbled distractedly and whipped the leather jerkin that had served her rather well these few days off. Her job was done and the baby was coming. She wanted to be home already.

"And your clothes of course," said Qu the naturally tactless. "You can't take them forward in time with you, and we'll need them to dress the decoy corpse."

His words cut through the distracted fog she had been in and she stared at him, for one of the few times in her life shocked utterly speechless. Behind him, Lu-Tze face palmed.75

"What?" And then when the second half of that sentence caught up to her ears she rounded on Qu. "WHAT?"

Lu-Tze intervened before Qu had a chance to open his mouth again. "It's okay! Well, not really, of course not, but….remember the poor woman Lance-Constable Vimes found? At Swing's building?"

She remembered all too well. She stared at Lu-Tze. "You'll make sure she's buried somewhere nice?"

"Of course."

"And that Keel goes in….gods, my grave?"

"Yes."

"And you'll make sure Young Sam is fine? And Reg goes in a nice shallow grave?"

"I will,"

She looked at him for a moment more, then nodded.

He nodded back. "Get as close to Carcer as you can and grab him, when we unfreeze."

"You bet I will." She twinged again. She really didn't want Carcer anywhere near there but this baby was coming…

"Can you put me down at my house?"

Qu began with, "That is quite impossible" and then froze from the look on Vimes' face.

"I have killed men and I was part of a revolution," she said slowly. "I saw friends I still mourn to this day die in front of me again. I did the job I had to, played the role I needed to"

Her voice went even colder. "Now, I am in labor. So the least, the very least you can do, is put me down at my godsdamned house."

There was silence for a second.

"We'll do the best we can," Lu-Tze said.

—

In the course of travelling back to her proper time, her water broke.

Of-fucking-course.

—

Saul heard the front door burst open and in walked his wife, naked but for the new wound across her eye and soot and other men's blood. Neither had a chance to say or do anything before Sam's legs gave out on her. She looked at Saul, still standing on the landing in shock.

"Saul. The baby is coming. Now."

As the household staff went into a furious tizzy of sheet gathering and boiling water, Willikins and Saul each grabbed one of Sam's arms and helped her up to her bedroom.

As they went up, Sam kept talking.

"Saul, I know she delivered you, and your grandmother, but I don't want Mrs. Content. Send a boy to get Doctor Lawn. I know I can trust him," she managed to get out as they settled her into bed and got a shirt on her.

She looked at Saul, who was looking at her still with shock, overcome by the impending birth of his child, the giant slash across her face, and that she was back safe and sound, and smiled.

"You got me through. You are the one who got me back to this time," before grabbing his arm to pull him in for a kiss. Then the grip on his arm tightened to the point that he felt his bones twinge. "And as much as I want to catch up to you, I need Doctor Lawn here. NOW."

In that tone of voice, Saul wasn't going to question how his wife knew the old pox doctor, but sent a runner down to fetch him.

Honestly, he wasn't inclined to argue too much. He didn't want to say it to Sam, who knew Mrs. Content from her days growing up on Cockbill Street, but he was glad Mrs. Content would not be the one helping her.

It was true that Mrs. Content was at his birth, yes. But on the other hand, his mother died giving birth to him. And it was probably unfair to blame that on Mrs. Content but the thought always remained in his mind.

If Sam wanted Dr. Lawn, Dr. Lawn she would get.

And for now, he would celebrate that his wife was here back at home, where she belonged.

And the child she was about to bring into their world.

—

There was screaming and pain.

Even the part of her that always watched herself because Samantha Vimes was through and through a copper was along for the ride, screaming and pushing as well.

And then there was one final almighty heave.

And then Doctor Lawn was cutting a cord and wrapping up this crying thing and oh my gods this crying thing was being put into her arms and

"It's a girl, Joann-Sam."

And then this bundle was being put into her arms and she had a daughter, and Saul was crying, and she was unabashedly crying, and the baby was crying, though for her it was less emotion and more upset at the eviction she had undergone.

And Saul was going, "Look, she's a little you, Sam" and Sam knew right then and there that even though she had argued against the baby bring named directly after her she was looking at Little Sam, as opposed to Sybil Samantha Deirdre, but she couldn't find it in her to argue in the face of seeing her husband weep for the first time in the course of their marriage.

And Sybil…or Little Sam as Saul was already calling her, not five minutes into their daughter's life, was all red and squishy and squalling and quite possibly the most beautiful person Sam Vimes had ever seen in her life. And every part of her knew that there was nothing she wouldn't give, nothing she wouldn't do to keep her child safe and happy.

Before she passed out from sheer utter exhaustion she looked at Saul.

"I'll teach our girl how to Walk. I'm good at that."

—

She really shouldn't be out of bed.

Nor did she really want to be. She had just given birth about ten hours ago. She wanted nothing more than to be with Saul and Little Sam.76

But there was the Duty. And there was a debt that she owed.

She had a sinking feeling the two were going to coincide.

She let herself into Small Gods, in the early hours of the morning, when Saul and the baby had drifted off.

She went to John Keel's grave and settled herself on it, making sure not to disturb the egg on there. She didn't think he would begrudge either a fellow copper stopping to take a rest, or a woman who just pushed a sack of potatoes out of her body.77

She looked at the six other graves around her. She mouthed their names and thought of each person lying underneath her feet. They weren't good men or bad men, but men who did their job, not because they were heroes, but because they thought of it as their duty to do so.

She was honored to have fought next to them twice.

She tried to relax into the night, to settle in for a good think, but there was something in the air that was putting her on the edge.

Let's see…there was a guard on her house, people she trusted with not just her life, but the life of her family. She could trust them to stay vigilant all night long. And the Watch Houses were at double guard as well.

Besides, those were too obvious.

The egg next to her was broken, boiled yolk and eggshell everywhere.

She leaned forward a bit, and the blade went over her head.

But the Beast had been ready, hadn't been thinking about guarding and defending, hadn't been thinking at all. It had just been there, in the dark behind her eyes, watching the shadows, and putting her hand into her pocket.

On the ground, she swiveled and punched Carcer in the kneecap as hard as she could with one of Mrs. Goodbody's finest items. She heard something crack, felt something crunch under her hand, and launched herself at Carcer.

There was no finesse to this, no holding back. The Beast was out in full force. It wasn't very often that she was sure she could make the world a better place but it was so achingly clear to her now.

She didn't want Carcer under the same sky that Little Sam was under.

They were both at a disadvantage. She was still weak from having given birth. He just became semi-crippled with a broken knee. But it was still hard-her sword was gone, and the damned man was tough as steel. It is very hard, as well, with your hands, to kill a man who wants to live.

She had managed it before, though, in Uberwald

They rolled and hit and generally tried to kill each other before Sam got a hold of a sword and had Carcer at the end of it.

He had a knife in his hand. "So who is going to arrest me? Sergeant Keel or Commander Vimes?"

"Arrest? Never said anything about that. I'm just defending myself from a crazy bastard who interrupted my mourning."

Carcer looked at her for a second, then grinned and dropped his knife. "Can't kill an unarmed man, Missus Vimes! You'll have to arrest me now! And take me in front of Vetinari! I do so want my little say, heh."

"Drop the other two," she said over the roar of the Beast, which wanted nothing more than to shut Carcer up permanently.

He dropped another one, looked down and grinned. "Oops, stepped over your-heh-grave there."

She said nothing. Carcer was still smiling that damned smile of his but there was, for a first time, a very slight tinge of nervousness there.

"You won't kill me Missus Vimes. Not with your badge on. That's not your way."

She tore off her badge and threw it to the ground.

He threw his third knife to the ground as she got closer. "That's it. I've no more knives. I can't escape. I surrender. I give in. Just arrest me, okay?"

The Beast screamed inside her; no one would blame her for keeping the hangman from a day's pay and a free breakfast. Besides, he'd probably make sure to drop Carcer the hard way instead of the easy way, so really a stab was much more merciful and he deserved it and he would go after Little Sam if she didn't and….

Young Sam looked at her, eyes shiny and full of strangeness, from a quarter century away, in a dark building.

She lowered the sword.

She could bend the law, and gods knew that it needed bending sometimes. But she couldn't break it. Once you broke one law, they all began to break, breaking down till there was nothing left unbroken.

That was not the world she wanted Little Sam to grow up in.

Carcer said something to try and provoke her again, but she ignored it. The Beast was all around her, but that was all it was. A beast, useful sure, and had some tricks, but that was all. It was dumb. And she was far, far more than a dumb beast.

She could do more than that. And she sure as hells wasn't going to let him win.

She dropped her sword. Carcer stared at her, finding a quietly smiling Vimes infinitely more terrifying than a furious Vimes. But then he got a hold of himself and a fourth knife in his hand.

She was faster though, and grabbed his hand, smashing it against the stone over and over again until the knife dropped. She slammed him face down on the ground, and put a knee into his back to make sure he stayed there. She grabbed his wrists, and began binding them, tearing off her sleeve to do so.

"You're hurting!"

She grinned a nasty grin. "Yes, but I'm still doing everything by the book. The sun is going to rise this morning, and it's going to shine all the better on my lass Sam because very soon you won't be here to sully it. You'll be going in front of Vetinari as soon as he wakes, and the witnesses will be there, and then the express route to the Tanty. Hell, I'll even make sure the hangman breaks your neck instead of leaving you to choke, all nice and clean though you more than definitely do not deserve it."

She turned and started to bind his ankles, using his own shirt. "The machine is waiting for you. The city is waiting for you. The law is waiting for you, and it is the law that will kill you, not me. It will be fair, and I will see to that myself."

She knelt down next to his head and whispered in his ear.

"I am the Law. And I am better than you."

She stood back to figure out how the hells she was going to get him to jail because she felt wobbly in the knees now that the fight was over, and she was pretty sure Saul and Dr. Lawn would have Words with her if she tried to carry him there.

"Good evening, your Grace," said Lord Vetinari, and Sam spun around, and generally tried not to yell out in surprise.

"How long were you there?!"

"Oh, long enough. I feel at this time of year some contemplation is appropriate."

"You…were very quiet," she said weakly, because she knew he was going to say

"Is that a crime? I heard a very neat arrest. Congratulations, by the way, your grace."

She looked at her sword, clean on the ground.

"Yes, I suppose so."

"On the birth of your daughter, I meant."

"Er…yes, thank you. Saul will be bringing her by the office in a few weeks to meet you, once she's big enough to leave the house."78

"Healthy lass, I am given to understand."

Vimes smiled weakly. "Yes, she's already screaming fit to bring down the house."

After varying topics of sensitivity were broached, and a new Watch House was agreed upon, they reached the gates of Small Gods.

She dropped Carcer to the ground. "You can take him by Pseudopolis Yard, yes?"

"Of course.79 Good night commander."

"Sergeant-at-arms, thank you," and she walked off, Carcer's moans in the background.

On her way home, she walked by the alley behind Clay Lane and stopped when she reckoned she was behind the temple.

A lemon tree was growing, absolutely impossible in Ankh-Morpork's climate, but there it was. Not only growing, but huge. The lemons hung fat and large from the tree.

One fell off the tree and landed by her feet. She smiled, and pocketed it.

And then she went home, and the world turned towards morning.

1 even if it were easier to let Saul or Willikins to do them up, she refused. She could tie her own boots, her nine months gone stomach be damned

2 and certainly much faster

3 to his credit, Lord Downey had over the years fully embraced going coeducational.

4 Mr. Wiggs did not do his research and thus was surprised to find that Vimes had a cosh on her

5 the abeyance must be new. She had one attempt when she was three months along.

6 Vimes hadn't wanted to make a big fuss about her pregnancy, but after she dealt with that little annoyance, Saul had gone to lunch with Downey to discuss certain matters and that was that.[8]

7 Mr. Montjoy-Stibble ended up thrown out a window and into the River Ankh. This was after she broke his nose by introducing it to her knee.

8 "My wife is pregnant, Lord Downey. And while I can-barely-accept these shenanigans most of the time, the attempts end now. "

"My Lord Ramkin, had we known she was with-"

"It's Ramkin-Vimes, thank you very much. The next attempt between now and when Sam gives birth, I will triple the rent on this property."

Lord Downey blanched.

"As for now, considered it doubled."

9 or killers in general for that matter but shush this is supposed to be dramatic.

10 the Librarian would have joined in but he was busy putting down a disturbance among some of the more tetchy books when the lightning struck.

11 and unlike a different Sam Vimes, has an immediate 20 minute discussion about a baby.

12 Mainly the continuing pain on her face. Gods she was going to have a wicked scar when this was all over.

13 Ah yes. As if this situation couldn't get any better, she was supposed to have the baby two days ago. For all she knew, she could have the baby now here in this cell and aaaaaaargh.

14 since she couldn't smoke, she could at least hold them.

15 and gods she just met her long dead father in law. How many dead people would she be seeing?

16 Sam had earned the nickname that her ancestor had, Old Stoneface, very easily.

17 she really, really did not want to mess around with gods damned magic.

18 despite the movement she felt under hand, the future had become a giant uncertainty and she was 26 years in the past. Beggars couldn't be choosers.

19 hardy har har, very clever.

20 and damn he hated thinking things like this but real life does not care if you don't like cheesy statements.

21 She tried to ignore the twinge that reminded her that her mentor was now lying dead somewhere because she and Carcer had come crashing back in time

22 Stupid time travel.

23 She was getting quickly tired of this time travel shit.

24 Oh yes. Good old Iffy. Vimes remembered him well. They had fooled around a bit, and parted on good terms. Young Sam was still way too young to be that blasé about it though.

25 She didn't talk much when she was young, but Vimes remembered that once she started going, she was hard to stop.

26 at this point Sam looked like a grape with a toothpick stuck through it.

27 the story she had given Tilden was that her husband was dead, and her mother was on the way from Pseudopolis to help with the baby when it was born.

28 it also helped that he had bought her assertion that she was only six months along. If she gave birth here, she had bigger things to worry about than being proven a liar.

29 or more accurately, annoyance at her younger self

30 ack. She hated spouting off shit like that but as a mentor she supposed she had to. Damn time travel.

31 Just as well.

32 It always amazed him, how light she was, even pregnant. She exuded so much sheer force of personality it was easy to forget that she was about 120 pounds soaking wet, if that.

33 Saul's father detested Vetinari, and vice versa, so Saul had shown him the hidden entryways to avoid trouble and to actually spend time with his friend instead of in a blow up with his dad.

34 The rocking chair was made for a woman Sam's size, and not a man Saul's height.

35 She had Lu-Tze show her that it could withstand knives before she could put it on and WAIT BABY

36 Conveniently located due for narrative purposes next to Vimes' feet.

37 Unless she judged the officer to be sensible and reasonable, in which case she very pointedly did not ask or look for it.

38 Also to keep her younger self from continuously spouting off ill-advised, half-thought out sedition.

39 Only too far away.

40 metaphorically as well as literally

41 Once again, while she could not wait for the end result, she really did not care overall for being pregnant.

42 Because presumably if she were married her husband wouldn't be letting her run the streets pregnant and working? Honestly, sometimes people got so het up over the whole woman thing, it was ridiculous.

43 and some wobbles.

44 "in ten years time when I was piss drunk and I then had to break up the fight and let me tell you, I was NOT happy," she did not add.

45 Yes, this was one time she would milk being pregnant for all it was worth. Even though she had just held a man up on his tiptoes, it was still hard for people to be scared of a pregnant lady, she had noticed.

46 She did, as her feet had become swollen little balloons the past two or three months.

47 Probably not Lu-Tze. She got the feeling he was a little more blasé on the subject of cheating.

48 Also, this was perhaps the comfiest chair she had sat in in quite a long time.

49 also, she didn't want to give that walking arsehole who was Saul's father to have the honor of being to only grandparent to see his grandchild.

50 gods that man was absolutely repugnant and she only talked to him for a minute. No wonder Saul didn't talk about him.

51 until she married Saul, her mother was the only person she allowed to call her Samantha

52 "She didn't get that brain from me Saul," she said to her husband as they watched their child pepper her godsfather with questions on how the city ran. "She got it from my mother."

53 remembering the look in her mother's eyes as she said that, Sam didn't argue as much as she would have when Saul named their child after her as well.

54 albeit for spoilers and editing out years of drunkenness.

55 She left her leather armor on though, because it never hurt to keep the baby in some extra padding.

56 The kind of grin sharks tended to have when approaching a pair of legs in the water.

57 Well, the man version of titters any way.

58 Well, on her arms and face and legs anyway. He'd probably be in the shit if he got her stomach. Thank gods she left her armor on, in case.

59 True Morporkians the lot of them, always up for a show.

60 And date a bit before realizing that getting along with someone like a house on fire wasn't necessarily a good thing and they decided to just be friends.

61 She was going to aim lower, but then remembered that she was a sergeant, and one of only two ladies right now. No one else but Young Sam would appreciate it.

62 since she was stuck back in time and possibly going to go in labor at any minute, damn if she wouldn't milk being pregnant for all it was worth.

63 she just couldn't let Saul find out or he'd laugh and never let her hear the end of it.

64 damn, knowing him he'd find out anyway.

65 Because this couldn't have happened to her when she was two or three months along. Or not pregnant at all. Damn time travel.

66 He did not say "for the baby" because Lu-Tze had rather more experience with the opposite gender than his contemporaries in the monastery.

67 And it was well weird seeing her badge on Young Sam's chest.

68 Being her child, the baby quickly adjusted to the daily amount of anger that Vimes tended to generate.

69 Thank all the gods she was so scrawny at this age.

70 Because she really, really, wanted a smoke right now.

71 Another pregnancy craving, along with cocoa and, inexplicably, Saul's cooking. She just was going along with it at this point.

72 she had gone past annoyance and fury that she was past due and having to do all this and now was in the icy calm of acceptance.

73 it struck Coates as an incongruous sight: Keel, at a stage of pregnancy where most women would either take to their bed or at least take it slow, drenched in gore and having done things with two swords that he did not remember his Keel teaching him. What kind of savage place did she come from?

74 she was getting a 'girl' feeling from her stomach; she was convinced now she and Saul would have a daughter in a few hours.

75 or in the parlance of my dear readers, did a Picard.

76 This was one rare fight that Vimes had to acquiesce. She looked at the little red bundle that was her baby-she had a child!- and she had to admit to her husband that no, godsdamnit, she didn't really look like a Sybil or a Deirdre.

77 Yes, between the last nine months and her and Saul's age, she rather thought that they would only be having the one.

78 "He is the godsfather, why wouldn't I bring our child to meet him?" he had said a few weeks ago, and she had to admit that he had a point.

79 Not only did he not mind, but he also knew that if Sir Saul found out he made his wife carry a man to the Watch House hours after giving birth, he would never hear the end of it.